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

Sometime it get real quiet in there. Sky-ponies settle down durin' hot part a day. Got air-conditioning, but not much. Ponies be tetchy that way. And Bart don't want 'em to catch nothin'. Whitey don't care. He like it it like that. Keep all them Texaco shit-heads in the big house. They prob'ly settin' 'round that kitchen table chewin' on cold brisket and slurpin' up lemonade. Maybe they eye ballin' a sweet taiter pie for 'afters.' Let 'em choke. Whitey don't care. Maybe not that little Davey. But the rest of 'em can crawl into a dead-box and stay put. That what he think. That what Whitey say. 


This his 'town day.' This when he go into Barsoom and have himself some private time. Sometime private mean hootchies. Sometime it mean playin' cards. Sometime it mean eatin' Eye-talian shit and he like the good shit. He know the difference too. 


He already called the big house. One a them cops picked up. Told him about his 'town day' and ast if it was alright with ev'ybody if he took off for a few hours. Cop turns to Bart and says - That the regular thing 'round here?....... Bart say - Yes, it is. That what we do........ Cop think for a minute. Then little Davey pipe up and say - Hey, Whitey, you gonna bring me back my fudge?.......... Whitey say - Sure, little cow poke. What kind you want me to get?........ Kid think for a while, then say - Get me the peanut butter. Yeah, get me the peanut butter and some a that 'hoopdy-doo' chocolate, OK?......... Ev'ybody smile. Feel good a see little bit a happiness 'round here, considerin' Alec's body still festerin (as far as they know) somewhere 'tween here and the El Plano line. Alec's two kids don't say nothin'.  Just set there chawin' on they cold brisket. (It tender 'nuff. But they had better.) Their maw 'bout  to bust them the hell up. Not the kids. Her in-laws, I mean. She hate Miss Sissie. She Hate Mister Hobart. She hate Miz India too. But she got a 'rattle snake' hate for her brother-in-law. She got a ole fashion 'bullet-in-a-haid' kind a hate for him. And Zeb knowed it. But they just set there, lookin' all nice and family-like for that cop. Second later, somebody switch off that screen and Whitey jus' go off on his way. Little finger-vial commencin' to irritate the innards a his ass a bit. I mean he only pop it out for shit time. But soon he not gonna worry 'bout that at all. Soon his ass innards gonna be all better. He fixin' to show Alec's finger to that book writin' goomer.  That guy smart. That guy know stuff. He gonna make money off this. He know. 


So Whitey take hisself down to the road (other cops see him, but they don't mind. folks in the big house already call down) and stand there, waitin' for the bus. Five minute later, it pull up. Big, ole tank-bus, full a wide-eyed, silent Tuva-Tuvas (mostly females) gone off to see kin folk 'keepin' house' in the city. Couple other ranch hands on board too. He knowed one a them from the Walgreen. Feller nod to him. Whitey nod back. Then he settle his sore hind parts down on a vacant seat and 'tend he sleepin'. That what ranch hands mostly  do.


Little Tuva-Tuva boy settin' 'cross from him start snappin' a baby chupicabra skull his way. But Whitey don't care. Oh, he can see it all from out under his hat. But he don't mind, 'cause he fixated on money  he ain't got yet.


Ninety minute later, bus pull into a 'three t-shirt' red hot day. City can be like that. And Whitey already sweat hisself through the first one.....


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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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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Family Time

Miss Sissie don't like bein' alone wit Bart. Not now. Not wit Alec missin'. She want Zeb and India to stay put. That way, Davey gonna stay put too and he the only one she really like. Not that she don't love Zeb. He is her son, after all. And she does have cordial feelin's for the others from time to time. But that don't mean she like 'em. Not like she gonna get up early and make pancakes for 'em. You see, Miss Sissie make pancake real good. Davey get pancake all the time. Ev'ry body else get Fruit Loops and Pepsi Cola, or whatever kind a shit them Tuva-Tuva gals feel like contaminatin' the kitchen wit. Could a had a p.m.d. unit. That a 'prepared meal dispenser' unit. Mos' all the rest a the rich 'Trooper' ladies got 'em. Come in like buff gold, or stainless steel. Oh, they went up to the Walgreen appliance store four times. Almost got one, but then Bart say - How you get the meat in it?...... Kid says - Ain't got no real meat in it. Use that 'cultured' crap......... Bart say - Cultured crap!? You mean you LIKE that shit?.........Kid say - Hell, yeah. That shit taste real good........... Bart start whuppin' the kid wit his hat. Kid wanna hit him back, but he don't wanna start nothin' wit an old man. So these two hologram security guards slide over. One say - Attention, Walgreen shopper! Get your ass the hell out a this place 'fore we mess you up! Thank you and come again!...... Miss Sissie gettin' all red in the face. She grab him by one a his arms and yank him back outside.  People lookin' at 'im. He  cussin'. He spittin'. Real human cop come over and say - You want me to give you a ticket for havin' a wild hair up you ass, old man!?........You see, havin' a wild hair up you ass, in public, is a summary offense 'round here. Gotta go 'lie' before the judge, who WILL let you off, provided the lawyer you got give him half the money you paid. Bart ready to go into his 'You know who the hell you are talkin' to, you shit-head, you?' But Miss Sissie start cryin'. He hate when she do that. Don't make much noise, but you can tell she real sad.  So he take her back to the tank. Say - You wanna stop at the Tastie-Freeze?............. She don't say nuttin', but that mean she want a tuna fish sandwich. After bein' hitched up wit her so long, he know.


And I don't think she really want one a them 'cultured meat' fixin' machines anyway. She always go on 'bout wantin' a 'righteous' kitchen. 'Righteous' this. 'Righteous' that. Slap you in a face, you not do the 'righteous' thing, you son-a-bitch. Oh, yeah, she can get that way. You see, in her Jew way, she jus' as crazy as Miz India be in her Jesus way. They both talk to God all the time. Only each one talk to Him on a slightly different phone. Still, they do manage to throw a lot a real good stuff at the poor. Talk about lovin' ev'rybody an lovin' ev'rybody an lovin' ev'rybody. Provided, that is, ev'rybody stay far nuf away. An you know what I think? I think God got Hisself a whole lot a uniforms. He got a Hebrew Uniform. He got a Jesus Uniform. He got a Muslim Uniform. Prob'ly got Hisself a Burger King Uniform too for all I know. That just the way He is. That what I think.


But Miss Sissie got her family with her now. They all still here. Zeb and his daddy lookin' over the crop land. India cuttin' up shit for a scrapbook. Alec's wife and them semi-assholes sittin' on a sofa in the morning room. Not that they happy. How could they be happy? But they here and nobody said no 'go to hell' yet. That in itself is good enough.


Davey in the kitchen wit his mom-mom and the Tuva-Tuvas. Ain't makin' pancakes, but at least they makin' french toast. 


At least they doin' that.....


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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... sniff-pig

Miss Sissie went out to the pool house with one a the cops. He requested a piece a Mister Alec's clothing, the more personal, the better. She knew the fat Tuva-Tuva girl was a liar. She knew them changin' rooms hardly ever get washed down the right way. So it was no surprise  to her when they saw that wad a dried up man-scanties in a corner.  One a them belonged to somebody else. But the little plaid one had Mister Alec all over it. No, for real. It did. 'Cause too much ice-cream on a hot day give him diarrhea and he never learn. So they let the pigs get a  good snoot fill. And they truly did seem to like it. After that they put 'em in one a the tanks and drive out to the 'borderlands' 'cause that is where the best body-hidin' places are. Everybody know that. Got wrote up in BARSOOM MAGAZINE and everything. You know, that just the way it is. Some people gotta get theyselves wedged in like that. What are yuh gonna do about it?...Nuthin'.  Why all the bes' families got two or three people been jammed into cracks. Ev'rybody know that.

Rest a them Texacos congregate in the kitchen. Bart don't say much. He jus' sit there drinkin' some concoction the Tuva-Tuva gal mix up. Think her saliva is a major ingredient.  Kids is outside lookin' at that new, little sky-pony. Zeb and India wanna go back into town till they 'find somethin'.' But she don't care none. That bitch got a Cheerleaders For Jesus meetin'.  She one a the arch-angels. She a big deal wit that group.  Jus' 'cause she had herself a bonifide 'visitation.' Doc said it was probably jus' a transient 'schemic attack (You know, one a them cute, little, baby strokes?). But  she jus' had him throwed out  the 'lady' doctor union and got herself a 'cuter' one. Maybe you seed the story in The Clarion Call? -- 'My Intimate Chinese dinner with The Lord and Savior......... Nobody believe it at first. But then she start yellin - Ev'rybody know Jew like Chinee food, so you jus' shet yourself up!

Now they got a  pair a bamboo chopsticks hangin' in the Window a The Lychee Garden wit Divine Lip Prints on 'em.  Which is all well and good, provided the Divine Personage like Kiss Me, Stupid number twelve (it a lipstick). But that could be from one a the patrons, 'cause people be tryin' lick 'em up real good whenever they get the chance now. 

Whitey, the stable hand, gettin' restless. Wish them kids'd skeedattle. Gotta find that finger a better hidin' place, 'cause one a them sniff-pigs keep givin' him the glad eye.  And the younger semi-asshole kid wanna know why he walkin' like a Spanish dancer?

But Davey say - No, you doan know Whitey. He always squeezes his cheeks like that. 

Yeah...that Davey's a good kid.

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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... City a Mars

Now we gotta talk about the city. Sure they got other places up here. And some a them mighty slick too. But this one the king. This one the best. This one got it all. You ever been there? Barsoom, I mean. Named it after them Frank Marshall books. Don't ask me when he lived. Back before. That is all I know. Wrote down a lotta crap bout Tarzan-like goomers on Mars and big tittie princesses wiff saber-toothed tigers 'stead a French Poodles. Think they wore these suede bikinis too. You ever see a princess partial to a suede bikini? I don't mean like out on a beach. I mean like walkin' into church and all.


First Fleet put down 'round 2051. Some other goomers came by 'fore then. But that was just a howdy-doo. Grabbed a few rocks. Said a couple prayers. Dumped the first Captain Kirk's ashes into a hole in the ground. Did a dance. Did another dance.  Whole lot a hinky-dink, mostly for the folk back home. But they did sprinkle some seeds down 'tween two rocks, right over a 'damp spot.' Then they set up a little camera to see if they growed. Folks back home watched the whole thing. And ten days later (Mars days is mostly equal to Earth days) they knowed. They saw. They knew. It was possible. It could happen. Life from Earth could prosper here.  'Cause a whole mess a little green shoots come snakin' up toward the sun. Ain't no oxygen back then. But that wern't no problem, 'cause plants knows how to make it. They breathe it out. It like their shit. 


After that, whole cattle cars a seeds be dumped on this planet. Some took. Some  did not. But the ones what took won out. According to them what knows, two million, twenty ton loads a seeds got smashed onto this here rock. Then came the water, mostly from artificially crashed in comets. And twenty year later it commenced to rain. 


They did other stuff to goose things along. But that was the main thing. Held prayer meetin's in Jerusalem. Same thing in Rome. Three times the usual number made the Haj that year. Some folk up here got old magazine covers from that time. Collector's items, they calls 'em. Real pricey now too. Know what they say? They say - A Renewal of Revelation...  What comes next?......... Oh, that's what they thought back then. Look, them Plymouth Rock Pilgrims wrote 'bout 'A City On a Hill' too. 


But you know what we got? ....... We got Barsoom.


Come back tomorrow. I'll tell yuh more.........


Best to go inside now. Chupicabras startin' a yelp.


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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Night Talk

The cops were camped outside. One or two were somewheres  in the big house, but they mostly stayed outta sight. Hobart wanted to call in his own people. He got ties to private security guys when he need 'em. Miss Sissie say she don't want 'em. She say give it a chance. Let the police do whatever it is they do.  He say - Alright..... But then he go down into the den to make phone calls. Got a special line. Can't be bugged or hacked into. Well, once some dumb goomer managed to dip into it. But then he got 'hacked' into right back. Tit for tat it was. 'Cept wern't too much tit left to tat when they were done.


Kids is all upstairs. Zeb and India whisperin' away in their room. Alec's wife (that what they usually call her) laid out over the bed in guest room number one. All the grandbabies tucked away in they places. Alec's kids are what might be charitably called 'semi-assholes,' but they are STILL 'family' semi-assholes. And Hobart knows they scared plenty. 


Now he come back up from the den. Must a called his 'cowboys,' his private posse. They won't show up right away. They just gonna go huntin' a little. See what the dogs turn up. 


Bart can't stomach the crowd Alec mushes up wit. Bunch a weak, gutless, whining, 'give-aways.' That all they want a do. 'Help the poor.' 'Do somethin' for them Tuva-Tuva folks.' 'Be nice!' 'Be nice!' 'Be nice!' Be nice to grind 'em down to bone meal. That what he think. 


Miss Sissie just sit there. She pretend like she knittin'. But that ain't gonna be no vest or nothin'. Skinny Tuva-Tuva gal give her an ice-tea. She ain't gonna drink it. 


Maybe she want a talk? Maybe that would help settle her a little? But that Old Man don't wanna talk. He like to look at the fire. That what he do when he don't wanna talk. Bart real good at fire-lookin'. But he thinkin'. Oh, yeah, he thinkin'.


Got drones outside too. Cops put them up. Fly all over lookin' at stuff and sniffin' for stuff. Don't know what they doin' over in the city. But that is the last place people seen 'im.  Stinker call the shots over there. Bart mus' know somethin'. But he don't say.


Wanna know what I think? They gonna find him. They gonna find the body. Then they gonna grab an 'Oswald,' maybe whole bunch a 'Oswalds.' Cut 'em up real good. Burn 'em up real nice.......... Not the goomers what did it. Stinker like them. He need them. They animals. They do things. Dumb, maybe. But they do things. 


Then Zeb gonna sit his ass in the senate. Miz India gonna smile at folks and cut a lot a ribbons. The other one, the 'wife'.......Alec's wife, I mean, will get taken care of. Settle a little gold on her. Maybe fix them semi-assholes up a little. It'll be all right. Miss Sissie gonna go a teensy bit more crazy. But she cruisin' down that road anyway.


And Stinker and Hobart gonna reach an agreement. Who know? Maybe somebody close to that fat bastid gonna go 'gook' too?


Now if you were to take a look outside, if you were to take a look into the inner workin's aWhitey's brain, you'd see them wheels turnin'. He nervous. He sweatin'.  Want a sneak off to that book writin' goomer in the city. Only he can't. Them drones worse'en hoss-flies. Them drones is everywheres. So he gotta stay put. 


Had a hide that chewed off finger, though. Had a hide that gruesome keep-sake REAL good. So you know what he did?....... Aw, come on! You don't 'spect me to spell it out for you? Do you? 


But let jus' say he walkin' a little funny. And let jus' say that old hound dog payin' extra special 'ttention to his butt.


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

Stinker Jones liked to walk. For a fat bastid, he didn't do too bad. Sure the 't.t.' was there. That means town tank, for you folks in other timelines.  Driver kept pace wit him, holdin' up traffic and all. But who is gonna say somethin'? This is Stinker Jones we are talkin' about. He owns this city. And if any asshole livin' here is deranged enough to doubt that, he better get used to bein' dead, or possibly just blind and crippled, depending on the present mindset of 'The Stinker.' Sure, when you go out a town other people start pickin' up the slack. People like Bart Texaco (Hobart) and his tribe. That is why this Zeb bein' senator thing is so impordent. Yeah, I know. You lookin' for that 't' in impordent. But we got rid a that lousy, Earth hinky-dink real fast. Who the hell wants a be like them son-a-bitches? We 'Mars' and we proud. Do you know children here grow three inches taller than them puny Earth bastids? It the gravity what does that. We got less a it. Spines are straighter. Legs is longer. I know somebody must a told you that already, 'cause you been here a while and you must know. Go into a store here and them pants wit the thirty four inch inseams is for the midgets. Thirty eight is more like it. Open your eyes. You must a picked up on that. Hell, even our midgets wun't be no midgets back on Earth. And Stinker's a midget. Don't never say nothin'. No, really. I am not jokifyin'  you. Just keep your malf shut 'bout that thing. Last shit-for-brains did that wound up donatin' his lower legs to medical science. 


Look how folks give him the 'howdy-doo' when he go by. But take note a how he do not look up to no man. Just glances off to the side, like he disgusted wiff 'em, or somethin'. And you know what? He prob'ly is. Knows all their secrets. Stinker knows ev'rything. My guess is he knows 'sactly where Mister Alec is right now. How could he not. Who you think paid them goomers?


It jus' his way. Like to give a little 'pinch' to guys. Make 'em jitterfied. Give 'em palpitations. Wun't never 'make bang-bang' wit the good son. Won't never do that to Mister Zeb or nothin'. That 'cause he got use for him. I mean, who the hell gonna vote for Stinker Junior? He too much like his pa.  And even though the fix is in, you still gotta go by the rules..... a little bit.


Zeb look like a senator. He smile like a president. And Miz India stand there just like a later day Nancy Reagan. But don't think she ain't got teef too. She got plenty teef. Them what knows say she pay people to gather up secrets for her little basket too. And I hear it overflowin'.


Oh, Stinker real glad now. He goin' into The King's Club. That joint got the best steaks in town. All the 'big hats' stuff they taiter traps in there. Know who owns it? Larry King. Yeah, Larry King. Same Larry King as you got. After he retired, the skinny, little bastid had hisself all re-upholstered and juiced up in some secret hinky-dink. Now, them what can pay, do it all the time. But he was one the pioneers.


Know what brought him out here? Know why he came to Mars? His ticker. Folks wit bad tickers does better here. Got less pullin' on it. Brand new fresh air.  This place God's country. It is. It really is. Why we got more chapels in assorted varieties  out here than a dead cow got maggots.


But you know Mister Stinker's driver?....... Mister Hobart pays him.....


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