Wednesday, February 29, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... What Zeb Does

Now while his family stares helplessly up the asshole of eternity, Zebulon Texaco, the 'political' son, sits chompin' away on a genuine porterhouse steak at table number  nineteen (the alpha table) right in the middle of The Kings Club. He enjoyin' a little repast wit' his bestest mentor, Stinker Jones, the puppet master a ninety five percent a Mars. Few a the egg heads settin' there too. Made some progress wit' that bomb a theirs. It a concussive blast weapon. Blow the flesh right off you bones. Tried it out on a few cats one night in a little lab back a The John Carter Center. Rocket Ball game was in progress, so nobody heared 'em scream. Nex' time tried it out on some human beans...some real ornery human beans...Cell Block Twenty Nine over at the penitentiary. Call 'em all in a the gym. Tell 'em they havin' a little party. Give'em all paper cup fill a macaroni and cheese. Pass 'em all a l'il juice box fill wit' Tang. Turn on the music. Get 'em all jitterfied. You know how jail house boys like a dance.  And then BOOM!!! Not one boom. Actually, it was more like three booms. They skeletons standin' there doin' a hully-gully, while all that macaroni and cheese run right down on a the floor. Big Boss Men, what be up in the booth, start whoopin' and clappin'. They ain't eatin' no macaroni and cheese up there. They eatin' shrimp. I can tell you that. They got red pepper, cocktail sauce and ev'rything. Clean up boys what came in to scrape up the jellyfied remains a Cell Block Twenty Nine got some too. Only they did not enjoy it so much since when mixed with the  chewed up shrimp and all it produced a consistency real similar to them bomb blasted human beans. Nex' day word leaks out. Mars got a weapon. Barsoom pulled a rabbit outta a twat (I think that how the 'spression  go). Folks be dancin' in the street, yellin a each other from them android powered rickshaws. It look jus' like that Shake You Tail Feather scene they got in that ole Blues Brothers Movie I seed. Lemme tell you sumpin', this here 'voice a the lonesome pine' do love them literary  classics.


Army fixin' for a field test. Got a little camouflaged redoubt set up out a town. Them what know say it right by the road go from La Polvarosa in a the city. Could be shoved in a one a them ravines runnin'  down from them hills. Might be lookin' down at all them shit covered, hyped-up chupicabra bastids doin' they monkey dance on top a that smeared up tank right now. 


You know God work in mysterious ways. Jus' hope that tank got a resistance to all this... Shame a think a Zeb chawin' on steak wit the goomers gonna blow up his kid.


An' Little Davey such a nice kid too.......


Look a him settin' there leanin' in on his mama. He so nice. He so quiet. It hot in there. Air transfer all screwed  up from them shitty baboons. They all sweatin'. Not much water left. Miss India tryin' a 'rapture the two a them up outta there. Only I don't think she had herself 'nuff rapture lessons, 'cause all she manage a do is squeeze her but cheeks together and cough a little. 


Rest ev'rybody else jus' quiet. They doan know what gonna happen.


Even the Cheetos is gone....


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