Friday, March 30, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Taking chances

Bart knew what would be. Johnny, his holographic daddy told him. Earth ain't gonna help. They got they own problems. And how you gonna stop them Chinese goomers when there so damn many? Communiss bastids is tearin' up the streets. King's Club got all smashed up. No where to get a good steak no more. Ain't nobody seed Larry, the owner. 'Puter say he all dug in wit his wife-for-right-now's folks over in Nimoy. 

Can't go to Earth. Well, you could try. But eighty five percent what lift off go 'gook' (rhymes with cook), what wit all them bee-bops flyin' 'round. They say folks (and I'm talkin' 'bout folks from old Trooper families too) is holin' up wit Kit-Kats. I know. I lnow. Ain't supposed a talk that way no more. Tuva-Tuva, I mean. Them what still hates says - Better dead than orange..........They wanted a word that rhymed with orange but there wern't none. Maybe in Kit-Kat talk they got one. I don't know. 

Bart did consider makin' a break. But how far he gonna get with this crew? I mean, come on. You see Miss Sissie, or Miz India or Miss Monica squeezin' off spuds from a 'red hot,' or like an old lead shooter? Buster an' Zeke might make it. But don't forget, they got kids in there with 'em too. An' that bunker ain't gone last forever. They thought it would. But Chinese goomers funnelin' in shit to the M.I.R. (Mars Is Red). I doan know if it's acid, or plasma or what it is. Dissolves bird shit off tanks real good. So I guess it jus' a matter a time fore it eats it's way down here.

All Miss Sissie do is stand over that stove fryin' matzoh meal latkes. She gone have her Passover, one way or the other. Lord gone come and set her free. Blessed assurance, Redemption is hers. She tell 'em all - Doan you worry. God gone lead us all out a here. Her daughter-in-law (although somewhat emotionally estranged from her philandering husband, Zeb) mostly agrees, bein' a Christian and all. Rest of 'em mostly heathens. Decent enough. I doan know if God plannin' a juice 'em all up on Resurrection Day, but who knows?

Kids is all in the holodome. They playin' Pork Chop Hill. That a 'puter simulation a some ole Earth war. Bart standin' in the doorway. He watchin' em. Look like they truly on a rain swept hill in Korea. Got rags tied 'round they heads and everythin'. 'Puters does wonders these days...even toy ones, like in the holodome.

That set Bart thinkin' 'bout the life his digitalized daddy got on the web. Mus' be like heaven. Everybody safe. Nobody go gook. Sun always shinin'. 'Skeeters is all dead. Chupicabras all friendly like. An' even if them Chinese goomers smash up all the 'puters on Mars, that world still out there. That world is everywheres. 

So he go back down to the 'sanctuary,' slip inside and close the door.

Who knows? Maybe Miss Sissie gonna get herself redeemed after all. Maybe they all will.....

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                 the Eyes of The Lord is upon you


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