Sunday, February 19, 2012

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

So the official word was that a bunch a crazy, liquored up Tuva-Tuva men did it. I  told you we don't see too many a them in town, or workin' the ranches. More now than in the past, but still not a lot. They stay out in the badlands. Got settlements. Got harems. Women folk in the city send 'em money and all kinds a shit. A few got guns. Not the high powered ordinance, more like the that little 'red hot' shooter Whitey had. Only now folks don't know 'bout Whitey. They be talkin' 'bout them 'God damned kit-kats.' That's what Stinker Jones said. Cops ain't gonna argue. They hates kit-kats. Oh, they be polite when they gotta be..No, not polite, just regular...just official. But let 'em pick one up for boostin' a box a PopTarts or pissin' on a tank stop an' you see  how fas' that orange skin turn black and blue. Now don't think these cops like what you got in your time, 'cause they ain't. Life is tough out here. Jus' gone to the Walgreen can be precarious without  you got the right kind a vehicle. Chupicabras go after you. Wild kit-kats pinch your ass. (That Mars slang for kill you.)  Nasty, crime-boss, politician like to f#*k with you kids.  Hell, you had it back on Earth. I seen old prints a Marshall Dillon. So don't judge us. All right? Keep you trap shut. Cops is peace officers out here and if they take a little piece in return, who the hell care? What? You wanna do it?


Only now, Stinker tell Zeb he gotta bad mouth all them kit-kats. Zeb don't wanna do it. He like kit-kats. He played wif kit-kats. He 'tickle' kit-kats. The female variety, I mean. Stinker say - You wanna be senator, don't you? You wanna go all the way to The Stone House, don't you?.......... Zeb say - Yeah...you know I do...............Bart, his daddy, like to bash his head when he talk like that. Put down his big, ole steak-eatin'-fork (They in town. They in The King's Club) and he say - Shut your tater trap and learn somethin', boy! You listen a what he say! I payin' big money for this 'lection and you ain't gonna f#*k it up!...........Then he turn a Stinker and say - You  got them holagrams? You got the 'wiggle pictures' (like bill board ads) all ready?...........Stinker fingernail a piece a gristle outta his teeth and say - What the hell you think!? I a professional!


And that how it go. So tomorrow, Zeb gone give speech 'bout securin' them badlands. Then later he gone shake hands  wiff folks waitin' at tank-bus stop. Like he ever in his life once sat his ass in a tank-bus. And the fact is, this family never be that way. They got no grudge 'gainst them kit-kats. Hell, Tillie and the other one eat same shit they do...jus' a few days later is all. Little Davey, who is mostly all healed and resurrected by now, hardly ever bad mouth them Tuva-Tuva folk. His mama, Miz India do, but she say prayer after, so it all right. 


Tillie know all this. Bein' bald doan make her deaf.  The other one know it too.  And now they got all a Whitey's money...that whole vial, what he once had shoved up his butt. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollahs. His half from sellin' Mister Alec's partly spoiled body cells to them 'duplication' goomers in Barsoom. 


And what you think them orange skin gals  gone do wiff it? After spendin' some at the Walgreen, I mean. They gone git it to the men folk. They gone git it to the badlands.


Mister Stinker want trouble? He gone git it? Mister Zeb want trouble? He gone taste some too. All them rich, powerful 'Troopers' (descendants of first settlers) gonna git it. An' them poor, dumb goomers humpin' after them gone git it even more. 


Mars is red. That much is true..... And soon it gonna git a whole lot redder.....


mars  mars  mars  mars  mars  mars  mars  mars


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