Monday, February 6, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Tricks

Body still out there. Cops ain't found it yet. That just the way it is. If they were lookin' for a regular dead guy, it would a been over by now. Regular folks got chips, little tiny, microscopic chips. Nobody talk about it. Most folks don't have no proof. Sure, they got them crazy conspiracy goomers, only some a them not crazy. Some a them got all this shit figured out the right way. 


Know how they does it? Know how they get them little, bitty things in you? They pays folks. First they threatens them. Then they pays 'em. Believers say docs do it at  birth. Slip somethin' into a fat, ole baby. Baby don't cry. Baby don't talk. Baby don't know. Them nurses in on it. But they more skeered than them doctors. It like a whole domino line a skeered folks. If one talk, they all fall.


But docs know how to dig 'em out.  Docs know lot a things. Like rich babies don't get no chips. They just don't. I'm talkin' bout real rich babies...Trooper babies. Mars version a Daughters a The Alamo babies. An' people what immigrate out here from Earth, or the Moon don't get none if they come wit the right kind a papers. I cannot tell you just what kind a papers they are. Most folks don't know that. But them what got 'em by-pass a certain minor procedure during their howdy-to-Mars physical. What? You think life is fair? shit, how dumb can you be?


That don't mean they got ev'rybody all tied up. Tuva-Tuva don't got 'em. Them what does for Earth folks, like housekeepers and baby-minders, got 'em. Them what got jobs in the city got 'em. But the free ones ain't marked. Tried droppin' 'em outa the sky (special sticky ones). But that did not work. Then they put 'em in the streams and lakes and all. So now some a the fish  got 'em. But the Tuva-Tuva don't.


Gone be a while 'fore they find that body. Them sniff-pigs will get it eventually. Only won't be much left by then. Bart wants a try  for some kind a genetic reassembly, cloning, they used to call it. But can't build no house after twister come if the bricks all blowed away. Shame. Could a start  all over and made it up to that Alec boy for all he done wrong.


Misses Alec know. She sit all quiet. But she know. She hear all the stories what came before her. And she know all the stuff what came after. And them kids?..... They ain't no semi-assholes. Them what says it, says it out a habit. So he let 'em go sky-riddin' 'fore they's growed. So what? Had sky-packs on 'em. Nuttin' gonna happen. That family got issues. That's all.


Well, God damn. I forgot somethin'. They do got a sample a Mister Alec's genetic shit. The finger...that little digit. The one Whitey been totin' around up his butt. Somebody better call for better pigs. Somebody gotta bring out smarter porkers. 


Maybe I will see what I can do 'bout that. Who am I? I am the Trail a the Lonesome Pines. I am the Wind in the Canyon. I am here. I always been here, 'cept for the times when I'm 'there'....... like inside some goomers head, whisperin' things and tellin' him shit.


Do I lie? Do I ever Lie. Damn, what you think, you son-a-bitch?  This is Mars.......


~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~


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