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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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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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Pay the toll

We all know Chupicabras belong to an archaic strain of baboon, a huge variant of the contemporary Earth species presently found throughout much of sub-Saharan Africa. Some scientists think they were brought to Mars at the same time as Tuva-Tuvas. Who, or what facilitated this transfer of Earth primates is unknown.  The purpose is also a mystery. 


Tuva-Tuvas are human. They belong to the same species as us.  DNA analysis points to a population of post homo erectus 'tribes' if you will, with a strong admixture of 'modern' Cro-Magnon types. The latest information supports the presence of perhaps five to ten percent Neanderthal genetic material in both Tuva-Tuvas and 'mainstream' humans. Their intelligence completely parallels our own.


Chupicabras are also quite capable creatures. Psychological testing on their Earth-bound cousins indicates a cognitive development roughly the same as that observed in four to six year old humans. They form organized bands, observe complicated hierarchies and make highly useful tools. Different populations employ easily identifiable symbolic gestures, as well. Anyone familiar with first grade, schoolyard, play-group confrontations knows just how formidable  the four to six year old mind can be.


And most four to six year olds on playgrounds lack the exaggerated, almost saber-tooth dentition found on these one hundred twenty to two hundred pound beasts........Indeed, chupicabras mean business. 


The troop rambling down from the hills now is a large one, perhaps sixty to eighty battle hardened adults, plus an attendant number of dependent juveniles. Fruits, plants and vegetables form the main part of their diet, occasionally augmented by an assortment of fat, juicy grubs. Some populations, whether through natural development, or artificial conditioning also exhibit a sharp, keen craving for human flesh. 


This troop was one of those.


They made expert use of sunlight and shadow, dripping down through ravines and hiding behind rocks. And the front ranks approached to within thirty feet before Little Davey saw the first one, as a  young juvenile, scarcely off its mothers back, ran chattering into the road.


Zeke jammed on the brakes. The last thing you want to do is make 'em angry and a smashed up baby might tend to do that.


Bart had other ideas. He yelled - Go! Go! Run! Run! Go! Go!......... But it was too late, for perhaps three heart beats later forty to forty five huge adults vaulted up out of the brush to find purchase on every possible part of the vehicle. Strong, furry bodies smashed down against the roof. They scrambled onto the sides, hanging onto door handles and other protuberances, serenading the terrorized occupants with a cachophany of high pitched frenzied screams. 


The humans imprisoned within huddled together and prayed.  There's no other way to describe it. The response was pure and instinctive. That's what they did. They prayed...as their simian cousins on the other side of the transparent surface proceeded to smear every square inch with copious dripping gobs of their rank, lumpy shit. 


Navigating via instrumentation was impossible, for interior screens need exterior lenses...and they were finger painted too. 


The tank did have heat sensitive screens inside. But the swarming mass of crazed ape-like creatures gave off a hot, red swirling fog, rendering everything else invisible.


And now it was the turn of other, much more fortunate tanks, filled with much more fortunate people, to gingerly inch their way beyond.


They sat there and they were helpless, as ninety nimble hands began to bend, brake, snap and unscrew some very important mechanical components.


How long til they 'did something' to the batteries?


Miss India wrapped her arms around her little boy and began to cry.


Bart scrambled under the seats grabbing for the guns. 


No one said a word. 


And the demon shriek was deafening.......


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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Aqui Vienen los chupicabras!

Bart knew it wasn't a done deed. He knew. Don't take much a bring down a 'tank.' Not if a human wants a do it, or somethin' pretty much like a human. Folks keep 'em for the wildlife. Can't navigate through the badlands or the borderlands without 'em. Big Blue swarm can't do nothin'. Ventilation system keep 'em out. Ever see a human body what been caught up in a big ole cloud a them seed chompin' bastids? First they starts pinchin' up all the skin. You see them little red marks, look like parenthesis (am I spellin' it right?). Poor son-a-bitch start wipin' 'em off.  He thinks - I might just live through this....... But then they come back. It's too late. They've had a taste. And they need more. Pinchin' get harder...sharper... faster. First you had twenty on you. Then maybe one fifty. Countin' 'em don't make sense. Cause how much your brain gonna concentrate on numbers after it know all your eyes been ate up? An' the feet do some sharp, little cuttin' too.  Don't happen too much in the borderlands...Not too much. Ranchers spray for it. Can't kill 'em. No way you gonna kill 'em. Jus' drug 'em up a little. Play arounnd wit' the hormones. Make 'em calm. Make 'em mild. Ever see them 'crystal boys' and 'crystal girls' in Barsoom? You know who I mean, those picture book, slicked up, fancy pups come fallin' outta clubs at closin' time? See 'em skip-stagger over to their sleek, little 'side-cars'? Case you do not know, 'side-car' what we call them tight, diamond-hard, 'spensive vehicles rich folk drive 'round in cities. Well, that what them Big Blues is like. Every day they get they fix. Every day they want it. Come sprayin' up outta the ground wit' the crop water. Makes 'em real nice. If them ugly bugs had lips they be smilin'. But mos' folk be gone now. Crops be dryin' up. Big Blues dryin' up too. They gone 'cold turkey.' An' they gettin' wild. 


Texacos seen 'em. Rode right by a tank covered wit' 'em.  Wern't but five feet away. Windows all  blocked up. Air intake all stuffed up. Nothin' goin' in. Nothin' goin' out. And there was the noise..... that noise. Like fifty thousand 'lectrified maracas. Who was sittin' in there? Who were they people? ....... Why you askin' that, fool!?  It doan make no difference. Gonna all go 'gook' soon anyway. Choked by a bunch a bugs.


Know why they ain't swarmed our tank? Zeke fix it. Yeah, Zeke. He the cow hand we got drivin'. He smart. He know. Got these l'il cakes, like what y'all used a call camphor. Shove 'em up in the air flow. Do a hinky-dink on the human stink. Big Blue can't smell it. Big Blue don't know it. 


That why they doan go after them horses. It all in the stink. We got some kinda shit in our juice make 'em hot for them seeds they eat. Y'all know what sprouts get like when they shrivel up in a hot sun? They get dee-licious. That what them bugs think.  Zeke jus' fix it up so we doan smell so 'licious.


But other teeth got other taste. Chupicabras ain't so fussy. Zeke already seed one gallop 'cross that road and they don't ever travel alone. Chupicabras real close. They what you call 'family oriented.'..... But God damn the goomer what ain't in the family.


All it take is one...maybe two. Rush a tank. Get all crunched and smeared up under the wheels. You know, them old ones will sacrifice theyself for the good of the troop. Tank start a skid. Wheels lock up. Slide off a road . Get stuck in the dust. What you gone do?.......Nuthin'. Ain't no cop gonna come out an' get you.  Not now. You see any soldiers? I sure don't. Look at you watch, 'cause maybe...it jus' time  for you to die???


Kids want water. Miss Sissie reach back and get 'em some. Alec's oldest want a banana. His mama, Miss Monica say - Shet you malf! We ain't got no banana! Can't you see that!? Davey jus' sniff an' try an' look real brave. 


Bart like that. He see it all in the rear view mirror....


Buster wife start singin' - Joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart...


But ev'ry time she say that Zeke go - Right when I fart, right when I fart...


Kids start a laugh...Soon ev'rybody laughin'.....That what he want. Zeke know. He know a lot....


'Cause it gonna get worse 'fore it get better.... I can tell you that......


Look, there go a troop slidin' down from them hills right now.....


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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... The Gauntlet

The abandoned sky-ponies knew what to do. A horse moves on instinct. They go where the 'life' is. Danny Boy took the lead. He smashed down the stable door and ran out into the paddock.  The others stayed back in the shadows watching. But after he nickered and reared a  couple times, they filed out to join him. I'd say there were about eighteen a them in all. Assorted types. All colors, but each one prettier than the next.  


First they ran around in circles. Then they suddenly stopped to taste the air. Danny Boy did some stompin'. He pushed the others back. Then he stretched them sinewy wings and started kickin'. Sky-ponies gotta 'heat the blood' 'fore they take off. That what he doin' now. Soon the others start 'dancin' too. Then he stomp down that fence, run flat out into the field and vault up into the sky. He like flyin' 'naked.' He like goin' up wit' out no saddle. They all do. Don't get the chance much. But now times is different.


Soon a whole mess  of 'em fall in and start circlin' the big house. Danny boy feelin' the wind. He 'cidin' where to go. Big Pond look interestin', but that too close. Time for new territory. Time to set out and travel. Can't see it yet. But he knowed there a big river up ahead. He could smell it. He  could feel it. So 'bout forty two heart beats later they falls into position and tear off. Sky-ponies do like geese do. They do like all big flyin' critters do. They form a 'V'. Cuts the drag. Saves energy. I do not know if any Earth humans were left in the vicinity to see 'em, but they sure paint a pretty picture. And two sets a eyes were sad to see 'em go.


If y'all recollect the beginnin' a this tale, you know we got a real nice mare what just dropped a right smart little colt. He too young to fly off. And she ain't gonna leave him. Maybe they be all right. Pig Pond got lots a water. She know where them big bags a pellets is. Food ain't gone be no problem. 


Chupicabras and Tuva-Tuva's another story. Mama horse can always fly off. But little guy can't. He prime meat. He filet mignon. Chupis know that. They real partial to baby horse flesh. It the mos' 'spensive thing on the menu. 


You see, how they do it is three or four big 'hunters' run him down. Don't make no difference if they male or female. Chupi hunters can be boaf. Now mama horse gonna put on a show. She gone be stompin' and kickin'. Maybe bean a few a them bastids. But she gone be too scared a take to the air. She don't wanna leave him alone.  And that a real shame. That mean she gone get her stomach all bit up. Chupi like a sink his teeth into hot guts. They real good at racin' in, rippin' up and runnin' off. And them what don't hunt gone be jumpin' and screamin' and shittin' . Jus' like a bunch a demons on vacation. Sometimes they throw shit too. It what primates do, don't you know.


Ain't no chupis 'round here now. Mama horse know. She can tell. Little guy got hisself all scared up. He ain't never been 'lone like this. Look at him lookin'. He don't know. He don't know what gonna happen. 


Mama horse start headin' off to the Big Pond. She go real slow. She keep lookin' back. She know he gonna follow. Maybe good long drink gonna calm him down. Maybe stompin' 'round them shallows just what he need. 


Now did I tell you that Tuva-Tuvas got a thing for sky-ponies too? They don't like 'em. Ain't natural. Ain't got no right. Bad magic. Bad hinky-dink. Earth folk made 'em. Devil stitch 'em up.


That why kit-kats kill 'em up all the time. Do they eat 'em? I don't know. Maybe rogue band do ev'ry now and then. But most of 'em don't. They jus' burn 'em up and watch 'em die. 


But ain't no kit-kats 'round here, not now anyway. They all up the road a ways... Horses safe...... People ain't..........


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

Left just after first light. Coulda snuck out when it dark. Ev'rybody feel safer then. But that jus' an illusion. Chinese  goomers got eye goggles lets 'em see through all kinds a shit... even walls. And kit-kats love the dark. They sees like cats sees. Lot a rich folks had somethin' similar done to they eyes too. Had to, 'cause a not havin' no real moon or nothin'.  

Bart picked the time. Actually, Little Davey did. Old man was talkin' over supper. Sayin' how he wanted a push off while it still dark. Davey din't like that. You gotta remember he only like five or six year old. He put on a good show. But wit' his daddy off in the city  and his Uncle Alec freshly planted, don't take much a hinky-dink him all up. And them other two, Alec's kids, is even worse. 

So they had one last breakfast round the big granite island. Cowboy wives made hotcakes. Still had some strawberry preserves and butter, so that was all right. Miss Sissie fried up a mess a salami in a pan. Ain't got no bacon or sausage left, so you want protein, you eat salami. Tasted good actually. Made the kids feel better. 

Two cowboys (plus they wives) goin' wit' 'em. Tall one Zeke. Little one (though he not real little) named Buster. I not sure a them wives' names. Call one Miz Zeke. Call the other Miz Buster. Other ranch hands gonna take off on they own. Few wanna stay. House gonna be all locked down. Know them roombas you got in your time? Well, we got good roombas now. They does more that suck up dust. Them what we got shoots folks too. Shoots 'em up real good. I think they clean up too. But they does that part after. So it not like these quarters gonna be particularly hospitable to unannounced guests, or nothin'. Everythin' sealed shut. All kinds a 'larms turned on. Dogs runnin' loose. I not talkin' 'bout the house dogs. They gone be in 'spended animation. Mister Bart went down to dose 'em up real good 'fore they left. Dogs down in little room off the sub-basement now. Bottle say it good for 'bout eighteen months (Earth months), so they ought a be all right...... I hope....... 'Less some hungry, enemy soldier cook 'em up for dinner or somethin'. 

Tank (which is more like what you all used to call a big, ole Hummer) hold ten people. We got eleven. So one a them kids gonna have to sit on a lap. Not like there gonna be lot a traffic. I hear all them 'stores' over at Walgreen Village been smashed in and looted already. Few other ranchers pullin' out now too. Know how they told each other? Old time 'crystal' radio set. Trooper families still got 'em from the old days. They mostly heirlooms now. Folks keeps 'em  to remember and to show off how 'historical' they is. Government gave 'em out 'case all the good stuff go 'gook.' And what wit' the war and all it did. 

So doan 'spect no caravan or nothin', jus' like one tank ev'ry couple miles or so. I'd say each one got a couple fire arms. Most can pop off a few 'red hots', but some got a little more power. Bart got two lead spitters. They old guns...real old. Brought 'em up all the way from Earth. Go back to West Texas. Oklahoma too, I 'spects. He keep 'em up real nice. That a family tradition. Ev'ry so often he take 'em out, polish 'em up, check to see they in workin' order. Fellah over in Rodenberry used to make the bullets. Stilll got a  few boxes. Miss Sissie doan like when he shoot 'em off. They real loud. Modern guns doan make no racket. Them what shot just go 'gook.' Even a cake don't fall.

Got bottles a water on board too. Some freeze-dried hot dogs. Few bags a Cheetos. Yeah, we still likes Cheetos. What? You got a problem wit' that? Miss Sissie got a jewelry box, case we runs into the kind a soldier what likes bein' bribed..... They not all gonna be cold blooded killers..... We hope.

It only 'bout ninety miles into town....if the roads is all right. I do not know how long it will take if we have to go over land. And I do not know how far out from  town our own soldiers are progressin'.

Folks is tryin' a get 'em a send up help from 'Merica. But they got they own problems wit' the Second Brazilian Empire and a whole bunch a shit. Who knows? Maybe they will. But I doan know. 

Ev'rybody in the tank singin' now. Men folk up front. Lady folk and little ones in  a back. Like that few feet gonna make whole lot a difference we run into some goomers from Peking or Taipei, or some place like that. And they  do got hopped-up, wild Tuva-Tuvas runnin' 'round too, you know.

Zeke just seed big chupicabra zip 'cross that road. But he doan wanna say nothin'. No use scarin' ev'rybody else. Zeke the driver. Mister Bart ridin' shot gun. And with what he totin' that 'sactly what he is.

So they singin' that 'national song' a theirs. Sings it all the time. Makes 'em feel strong. Makes 'em feel special. Makes 'em feel like somebody.....

Around her neck she wore a yellow ribbon..... She wore it for her sweetheart who was in the cavalry.....

Sun comin'  up real purdy now. Look how red them hills look.......

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These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Burnt Orange Dawn

Colors were a little less vivid that day. Like nature gettin' ready for a dust up. Sky be suckin in all them itty-bitty particles a trouble and fixin' to spit 'em all back down. 


All the old folks was inside. They was plannin' stuff. Miss Sissie still wantin' a refugee into town. Miss Monica all nervous and jumpy-like. Know who she like? Picture that old time movie queen...the one they always talkin'  'bout. Fix you mind on that Marilyn Monroe. That who she like, 'cept her eyebrows less black. I don't know if the real one had black eyebrows or not, but somehow they always stick that way in my head. 


Monica got them same curvy-curves. Look like when they filled her up they put in just a pint too much water. Wears all them crisp shirty-shirts knotted up at the waist. Maybe her hair a little bit more red than the one in the history books, but that the only thing I see. 


And if you are interested, the first one ain't even officially dead no more. She got herself re- whelped by a big, ole, loud malfed turkey-headed bitch on some alien planet ain't even been 'scovered yet. Pretty, little turkey-headed thing too. But I am not very familiar with standards on that world.


Monica gawn do all what Bart say. She wanna be the good girl. She wanna be his bestest daughter-in-law. Even if her husband is presently in the early stages of death. He only done gawn 'gook' two months ago.  An' ev'rybody know Alec not the bestest son. But she got two kids and she wanna make sure they well fixed up. You know how pixilated old bastids can be when it come to dealin' out money. 


Not that she want Little Davey (he come from the better son) a be left out. She just wanna make sure her brood right in there wit him.


Now they all drinkin' tea. Coffee ain't no more. It all gone. Two cowboy wives 'doin'' in the house for 'em . Miss India all quiet. She always all quiet. You wanna get her fixed up in your head? Well, she like another one a them 'back in the day' movie wimmen. She like Mrs. Spartacus. She like Jean Simmons. Maybe her hair ain't the same color. I don't know. Maybe it is.


Bart try call the city. Skypes is down. He usin' a little baby phone, kind they gives senile, old jitter-hands in them 'ain't we helpin' you die nice' joints. But truth is that one dead too. 


Couple sky-ponies is missin'. Bart figures somebody  grabbed 'em last night. Could a been a lone Tuva-Tuva. Whole band would a taken 'em all. Chinese goomers woulda killed all the people. They don't need no human individuals. Got enough a their own already. They wants the land. 


Miss Sissie lightin' candles. She do that all the time now, sayin' prayers for all her people what wound up dead. Askin' God to bring 'em all up outta La Polvarosa (that the name a the ranch) and set 'em down in the city. Barsoom only 'bout ninety miles away...but how things is now, it might as well be a million. India got her own kind a 'God talk.' She a 'born again,' an' maybe, the way this here war goin' she get a chance to do it all a third time.


Bart know they gotta leave. He knowed that long time ago. Got all them Texaco records and bank 'count numbers and deeds and all in a little sack 'round his neck. It all on a bunch a chips. He doan trust no internet. God damn bunch a twenty three year old assholes sittin' at 'think boards'  drinkin cat-shit-coffee, messin' up other people lives. And them androids is even worse. Like to hose 'em all down wit vinegar. Kill 'em up real good.


Kids is outside. Cowboys guardin' em. Gotta let 'em breathe a little, don't you know. Little Davey cryin'. He miss them sky-ponies. He miss 'em real bad. Miss his daddy too. Zeb in the city. He workin' for the government. He safe. Shame he can't swoop down in one a them little Chinese football thingies and get 'em. Shame he can't do lot a things. 


Big blues (huge grasshoppers) real loud. Not usually like that this early. Somethin' mus' be jazzin' 'em up. Monica's big one think it the dust devil (weak twister) snakin' in from the south. But cowboys makin' sqinty-eyes at them hills.


They think like it somethin' else.......


You know Bart  got a bunch a pills? Did I tell you that? Use 'em to put down a horse what be 'sick.' Does it fast. Does it painlessly. Does it clean. 


Folks say they got the same effect on people.


Let's hope nobody here gotta find out.......


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