Thursday, March 1, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Recyclin' Popcorn Tubs

It gettin' hard to breath in there. Electrical system still work some...but not much. Little bitty trickle a hot, stale air fall out a the vent. Them God damned chupicabra devils 'did somethin'' under the tank. Pulled out a hinky-dink. Yanked somethin' loose. Them monkey hands should all fall off. 


It gettin' dark now. It gettin' cooler. Baboon bastids not so crazy now. They settle in. They quiet down. Huddle together. Keep theyselves warm. 


Not so many of 'em up on the roof now. A few, mostly the big ones. Guess playin' king-a-the-hill come natural to them ugly son-a-bitches. Ain't no more tanks goin' by. Them what left (and  got out) left already. Texacos (plus a couple hands and they wives) all alone. 


Ev'ry couple minutes Zeke ferget them monkey devils broke somethin'. He wanna fire it up and tear out a there. But they can't do that. They can't go nowheres. This thing won't start up no more. Tank dead, or mostly dead. 


Folks gotta go pee  now. Tryin' a be more or less civilized. Tryin' a hold it in. But all the 'in' they got been filled up. Kids go first. They don't like it. They care. But kids is kids. Take turns climbin' over in a  back and whizzin' in a ole plastic Johnson's Popcorn tub. Ev'rybody like Johnson's Popcorn. Buy in ev'ry year when they go to the seashore. Mars got nice seashores. Ain't got no oceans like y'all do on Earth. But got seas. Pretty big ones too. Y'all know what The Gulf a Mexico is, or all five a The Great Lakes? Then you get the idea. Shore house real special too. Got all them purdy couches, all them fancy bafroons. Regular bon-bon box a great places a take a shit. Miz India once fixed it up for one a her lady friends a write in up in a magazine. And I mean a real magazine. Kind got thick, rich, glossy pages. Funny, with all the 'lectrical toys they got folks still likes a hold on  to somethin' like that. Had a real nice picture a Miss Sissie makin' split pea soup in the kitchen. She do it all from scratch too. You remember what happen when her and Bart went a look at them fancy-cookin'-machines? They don't got one a them. They chops up all them onions theyselves.


That popcorn tub gettin' fill up. Good thing it got a snap-on lid. So now I guess they in The Johnson Popcorn pee bidniss.


You know them chupicabras use tools, don't yeh? I don't mean like no weed-whacker, or eyelash curler. I talkin' 'bout real plain stuff, like a ole rock, or maybe even a new rock. I don't know. Use it a smash nuts, smash seeds, smash bugs, smash heads. Sometime they throw it at a other chupicabra tittie or somethin'.


Got one up on a roof right now. He got a big rock. Mus' be like a heirloom, or somethin'. Mus' be like a Stradivarius a dirty monkey rock. He bang it down on a roof..and down on a roof..and down on a roof. At first it drive ev'rybody crazy. But now they hardly hears it no more. Monkey tryin' a crack his way through the moon roof, which is somewhat comical, considerin' we ain't got no genuine moon.


Miss Monica start gettin' delirious. She yell - He gonna crack it! He gonna crack it! ......... Bart tell her to shet herself the hell up. Ain't no monkey gonna crack through that. That diamond impregnated, quartzite-acrylic shit!.......... Kids laugh when he say 'shit.'....... Misses Zeke (she the driver's wife) find a box a Reeses Pieces stuff down long side her seat. It a big box, like what folk get at a Holarama show. Soon she start shakin' it, ev'rybody shut up. Reeses Pieces taste good, 'specially when you been sittin' in a stalled out tank all dec'rated wit' monkey shit. 


She deal 'em out. Eight to a customer. Hold back a few so they can have three to a customer for desert. After that... I don't know.


Bart say tomorrow gonna be better. Prob'ly have an army 'fly over' or somethin'. Buster (he the other hand) wanna know how he know that...... Bart feel like tellin' him a go to hell. But he don't do that on account a the children. Only they ain't payin' no mind. Monica's big one seed two full growed chupis playin' the 'nasties'  out there in the dirt. Shit not so thick now. It all dried up. You can see out a little. 


But soon it gonna be dark..... Then you not see nothin'.....


Funny noise comin' from up in them hills though. Mechanical noise. Like a hum. Like some goomer runnin' a washin' machine. Miss Sissie heared it. But Bart say it jus'  her nerves.......


Doan know what we gonna do later when folks start lookin' a take a dump......


Then they really gonna get nervous....


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