Ah hell

"So anyway, He takes this chick out to the painted mines on a date."

"The painted mines? Shit man, that's a pretty cow pasture with no grass or cows. I think that's the cheapest date I've heard of since high school."

"You're single. He's not. Anyway, he packs a picnic and takes her out to the painted mines for the sunset. It's gorgeous, romantic, straight off the cover of a cliche Romance novel. This is his powerplay. And, goddamnit, it's actually working. When it gets too dark to see anything he books it back down the state highway pegging it down at ninety. Music blaring. Girl doing... various assorted and sundry things. Needless to say he's in a hurry to get home."

"Oh Jesus. That type of hubris is asking for some type of cosmic smackdown."

"Exactly. He clips the ass end of a coyote."

"Ha!"

"Oh, it gets better: He pulls over to the shoulder and heads on back to find the damned thing scraping it's way across the street with its front paws. It's broken. Horribly, horribly broken. It didn't damage the truck at all but old Wile E. went into the wheel well. It's been spun around, shattered, and smashed. He looks at the thing and it's growling and hissing and snarling and yelping. So instead of doing the natural thing and leaving it to die in a ditch, he puts the heel of his shitkickers against its neck, puts all his weight down, and then grinds until he can feel pavement."

"Didn't have the pistol?"

"Didn't have the pistol. He gets back into the cab and she's pale as a cadaver and half as talkative. Then she starts sobbing and doesn't stop until he drops her off at her place."

"I thought you said he wasn't single."

"Oh, he isn't. Met a girl the next night."

"How does he do that?"

"Damned if I know. Your turn."

"Okay. My uncle is a high-class chauffer. Normally works out of the Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, New York, area."

"New England."

"Pretty much. He refuses to step foot in New Jersey, but that's a different story. Anyway, he gets a job bringing some guy from Boston to Philadelphia. Terrified of planes, not suicidal enough for Amtrak. My Uncle does the job, delivers the package, and is a few thousand dollars richer. And, hell, while you're in Philadelphia you might as well swing by the Liberty Bell because God knows that city doesn't have anything else worthwhile in it."

"They have cheesestakes, too."

"When your tourist attractions include a broken bell and chopped meat wit Cheez Whiz you know you're in some sorry shit. Anyway, he goes to the Liberty Bell. He's walking around looking at the giant bell when my father walks up beside him. And my uncle is like, 'Mark?!' and My father is all 'Jon?!' My father was on a family vacation and they just happened to be visiting the Liberty Bell at the same time. They hadn't spoken for two decades since some bullshit about inheritance went down. "

"Bullshit?"

"Nasty bullshit. My father and my other Uncle tried to write Uncle Jon out of Pop's will. Uncle Jon went and got a lawyer and beat the ever-loving shit out of them in court. The whole thing ripped apart that side of my family even more than it already was. Anyway, they reconciled and chatted it up right there in front of the Liberty Bell and Uncle Jon saw my Father's other family."

"Your father's other family? Wait, why are you telling this story from your Uncle's perspective?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"You never really talk about your father."

"What, are you my girlfriend? Shut the fuck up."

"Fine. Your turn."

"My cousin's on a business trip, and she's getting word back that her boyfriend's whoping it up like he's Caligula on a Viagra bender. So she heads home early, and on the way back from the airport, million to one shot, she spots his car in the parkinglot of some random apartment building."

"This plays out exactly like I think it'll play out?"

"Pretty much."

"Why is life so cliche?"

"It wouldn't be cliche if it didn't happen constantly. We just replay the same stories over and over and over again."

"I guess. Apparently the universe was patterned after that Agatha Christie play."

"The same story just keeps repeating ad infinitum?"

"Yeah. Fuck that, it's time to go get the armadillo out of the trunk."