ZID VI CHAPTER QUATRO FACE TO FACE

[The Urbane Spaceman]

This post is dedicated to folks who will not give up in the face of adversity, no matter how ugly the face of evil that appears to us all. Do not bend to its will.

Here is a song to exemplify this important point. It is Sound Of Change by Dirty Heads

Now for some of our own sort of enjoyment, notre joie de la vie, tous ceux qui sont de bonnes personnes.

The continuation of the ZID Chapters, for your mental escape. Je suis Hebdo.


*ahem*


Sean’s friends didn’t recognize him when we walked in the front door. All them Jocks stood up and the cheerleaders ran and hid. Perhaps we were a sight to behold.


You know, we intended it to be that way. In forcing people to face their own notions of proper dress, we were always ready to defend our beliefs of freedom of expression. Freedom to be as we are, or were, as the case may be. I no longer dress that way.


These days, I tend to wear a space helmet with glass made from bottles. I am ready to stand/stagger and fight for my right to appear in a blur. Free to draw a caricature of me, or my own higher power. My god is not angered by the frivolous and humorous depictions of him in any way shape or form. He has a good sense of humor, and he is confident, not weak. Bacchus does not depend on mere humans to fight his battles for him.


Huh.


So, yeah, we found ourselves in a new place, and instead of angrily instructing others how to manage themselves, we intended to show them the path to enlightenment.


Calls for a drink. Tonight, it’s another offering of the nectar of the gods. Sailor Jerry, voted first place by 3 out of 8 taste-testers. Out of the four rums tested, no one ever said the ugly word: “mouthfeel” which is equally important to remember.

Here’s the link to this highly intoxicating and inviting scientific method that must have been quite delicious.



3.

2.

1.

DRINK!


Mmmmm. Damn fine.


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The head Jock (No, not the one in charge of fellatio, rather, the Alpha Male of the group) charged over and Fat Jerry stepped in front of Sean. He was always ready to break bones. One time, he snapped femurs over his thigh, but that is the tale for another night.



The head Jock got right up in Jerry’s face and said, “You have the wrong place. You have five seconds to turn around and take your pretty ladies behind you out the door or some shit is going down.”


Jerry grinned. Man, that was a sight you should never view. Something about that huge bastard, when he was all lit up on various drugs and booze, well, it would give you the trots. Kudos to the head Jock for not showing fear. Jerry looked like an angry, evil clown when he sneered like he did at those moments.



Jerry said, “Me and my men came here to party. You man enough for a party, cutie pie?”



Well, that didn’t go over so well. The other Jocks surrounded us and Jerry cracked his knuckles in the head Jock’s face. That dude swung his arm back to cock a punch and Jerry pushed him down. He knew what to expect.


Bait needs a hook. Set the hook in the big fish lip.


That bought us a second, because the Alpha Male done got knocked down. Only thing that was bruised was his ego.


At that moment, before things went to fuck, Sean shouted. He said, “Bullard High In The House!”

That was the one thing that prevented everyone getting injured and lamps getting smashed.



“Sean?”


It was Tellesco. He probably should have come forth first, due to it being his house and all. But always trust the Alpha Males to step in front of everything and color everything red.


Sean stepped around Fat Jerry and that was when the rest of the Jocks pointed and laughed. Yeah, Sean became comic relief at a moment when it could really be used. It’s too bad that Sean took it personal, for he had a weak ego, and so he charged forth and started to swing at those Jocks.



But they stepped back, because he was one of their own, much like any team. He had some explaining to do. What had we done to him? Had he converted to the other side? Who were we strange people?


Why the hell was he all cut up, wearing burnt sports shorts, he had thigh high black boots over his tree-trunk legs?



Let’s step back and savor that moment, as I savor another long sip of this Sailor Jerry’s rum.



See you for the next part, this weekend.


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[Dear Booze]

See you for the next part, this weekend.


.

Okay. It's officially "this weekend"... let's hear the" next part" dammit!

[mistah willies]

See you for the next part, this weekend.


.

Okay. It's officially "this weekend"... let's hear the" next part" dammit!

Yeah! Just get to it! Fuck...

[The Urbane Spaceman]

I wanna know.