Saturday, January 28, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Dinner time

Ole Effie led 'em all into the fancy eatin' room. Miz India had it all tricked out with rare antiques. The table was a twelve seater, made from two attached slabs a double thick pine, taken from the last Sizzler on Earth. It still had the original, carcinogenic, glossy veneer. And a close inspection will show you that a certain lothario, named Ray-Ray loved Bootsie back in '86. India wanted to sand that out, but the dealer said it only adds to the value. But Stinker Jones is a low-life. He don't know nothin' 'bout no antiques. Justs smacks hisself down and breathes heavy, waitin' for the food. Poor folks, which in most places means just about everybody, eats 'cultured' beef. They grow it in factories from discarded cow placentas. Some a them cells get twisted into chuck roast, or hamburger, or poor-folk-steak. Who cares? They buy it. They don't know no different. But rich folks eats the real stuff, made from authenticated, certified, dead bovines. That's what they were havin', big ole, thick, grilled rib steaks, hacked off a terrified, fresh slaughtered, young heifer. Her little boy went for veal chops. Same day and everything. Ain't that nice?! You know, that way neither one had to go on without the other. Them what kills 'em strives to be real humane.

Zeb sat back in his big, host chair (also an antique reputed to be from Pee-Wee's Playhouse)  givin' the fat man the ole fish eye. He knowed 'bout this dinner for weeks. Hobart fixed it all up. Had a shove a lot a 'hot peppers' (Trooper slang for money) up Stinker's ass for that one....... 'Senator'....... Senator Zebulon Vance Texaco from the great state of El Plano, Mars. And to be truthful, even if he did not like all the tedious, busy work involved, he did like the sound of it. Couldn't help but advance his status at The Mount Olympus Club. That a big town club. All the old Trooper (1st settlers on Mars) families keep memberships. Got the best food, the best booze and the best whores. And some a them whores even graduated theyselves into wives. You see, Mars is that kind a place. Folks ain't so formal here. People be graduatin' into all sorts a thing.

Look, here come Effie wit the food. Whole roast cow, on a silver platter. One a them new mini varieties.  Weigh 'bout fifty pounds 'fore killin'. Cleanin' and dressin' bring 'em down  to 'bout thirtyfive or so. Effie old, but she strong. She can handle it. Stinker get the head 'cause he a guest.

They say the cheeks (lips too) is the bestest part.

Yes siree, life in the later day a the twenty second century is mighty special...mighty special indeed.

See? He likes it! Look  how he dig out that fat, little tongue!


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