By: Hatless Jack
[2004-04-22]
Rabies McGee
part three
"Where you headed, Chief?" To be honest, I expected to pick up Eurotrash backpacking across the country. Hooboy, did I fuck up. This man is dressed entirely in burlap and his knotted beard probably has some sort of wolverine nesting inside of it. An angry wolverine. "You kin drop me off at the next town." Whoa, that's gruff, and now he's in the backseat. Lovely. Ben's giving me sideways glances that say we should just shank Rabies McGee now, before he can get the ax out of his knapsack. Frankly, I agree, but I've never saw myself as the "murdering transients in cold blood" type of person. Our best bet is to careen down the highway full bore to the first one-horse town we come across, and boot Rabies at the... Oh dear God, what the hell is that stench?
It's the forty-five minute mark. The hobo is still with us. The windows are open despite the outside temperature. I'm going to have to burn that back seat.
No one has said a single goddamned word since Rabies joined our happy little road trip. My speedometer is pegged down, Rabies is catatonic, and Ben is eyeing the knife with increasing interest. Glances at Rabies through the rearview mirror reveal that he is probably a Vietnam vet, judging by all the military patches and POW-MIA badges frankensteined onto his haphazard potato sack uniform. He's about fifty, fifty-five years old, and he obviously has grave mental problems. But if he were going to butcher us, gnaw on our bones, and suck our marrow he'd have done it by now. Surprisingly, I'm regretting picking him up less. I can almost read the history in his face: Thirty years ago, nice guy about my age from the Midwest goes to serve his country and comes back more fucked than a dime hooker. Maybe he's finally going home to his family after all these years. Hell, if it weren't for the smell I wouldn't mind.
"Hey man." Ben just noticed the white and blue flashing lights that snapped on behind us. State highway patrol: Revenue generators extraordinaire, not that I don't deserve to be fined. Still, civil disobedience and all that rot. At least it'll be good to find out how fast we are actually going right now. And there are the sirens. Whoa, Rabies is spazzing out behind us. What the hell. "
I'M NOT GOING BACK TO JAIL!"
..Hitchin'a ride.....Pickin up seedy characters with their thumb out can be quite an adrenalin rush. So the newest passenger was pretty much an assumed vet...well c'mon now if that's the case sniff him whole heartedly and say thank you sir!Does noone care to know the things he endured for you..the smells being the least of his worries.
Chivalry may not be dead ..butt i think respect and apprectiation is on the way out at an alarming rate.
www.techwebsound.com
I just hope that he's not one of those aliens from Rigel 4 that vomits their entire guts when startled! What was his crime? You'll never take me alive, copper! Top of the World, Ma! You dirty guy, you killed my brother! This makes me thirsty for Ovaltine! And gin.
I had no idea that was going to happen. Loose ellipsis sink shipsis. It's not where I would have broken it off into a fourth segment, but what the hell. Let the Hatless Jack Appreciation Month continue unabated!
Also: He was a veteran and presumed felon. An important and necessary distinction.
A veteran robot zombie left over from the Seventh Crimean Drug Wars, maybe.
Maybe his crime was sumpin'piddley...like havin' to pee after bein drunk and fallin 'off the back of a jeep in the woods..and the local sherriff hauled his ass in (just in the holdin cell 'til daddy bailed him out)....or lettin' sum teens have a party at his house and goin' to jail frum Friday' til Monday coz the one teen said that HE bought the alcohol..when in fact he really didn't.Maybe that's what he meant by not goin' to jail again.
Maybe he never even had a police record until he was 43
Any similarities pertaining to the events in this comment and the events in my life are purely coincidental
Maybe it involved that toe sock fetish incident!
Maybe he's got a cigar-box full of toes in his back-pack! Good trail-food!
The origin of this is from the 1931 film Taxi! where Cagney delivered the line "You dirty rat, I'm going to get rid of you just like you gave it to my brother" often misquoted as "You dirty rat, you killed my brother". James Cagney is interred in the Cemetery of the Gate of Heaven in Hawthorne, New York.
if you're Dahmer...in this case He was the one pickin' up hitchhikers..and i bet he would have loved that trail mix...born in Wisconsin(oh the power of cheese)..moved to(blood)Bath,Ohio at 8yrs old(wonder how old his victims were when they were 8)Cannibalism?A game of poker with his buddies...DON'T PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!...He didnt mind washin' the blender..Necropheliac? Wonder if he complained about his lovers just layin' there.Thats probabably the complaint that drove his cellmate(don't make me go Disney on ur ass!)to smash his head in..maybe got tired of him complainin' about the inmates on deathrow, how that was a waste of perfectly good meat.You look good enuff to eat...mmmmm he'd go well with red wine... Toe sox w/the toes still in them.Dear Diary:No matter how many times i watch that movie "Alive" (about that soccer team that survived a plane crash in the Andes Mountains)it still makes me feel funny down there!
Maybe that smell was wafting from the cigar box(eau de Monica)that he bought from E-Bay...ex~Presidents need all the dead presidents they can get. http://www.monkeydyne.com/rmcs/dbcomic.phtml?rowid=327in
Dahmer also drilled holes in the skulls of his victims and poured acid in the holes while they were alive tryin to make them zombies...I think he would make a lousy bartender...thats not the way to make a zombie
I know Gacy had the creepy, creepy clown thing going on, but didn't he also trick his young victims into hand cuffing themselves to a chair and then set about drilling holes in their heads for sex slavication? Wasn't Dahmer the one who had a thing for brunettes and bailed out of a Colorado jail? Or was that Bundy? They should make trading cards.
"I'll trade you my Green River Killer foil for your Son of Sam."
Nothin' I really wanted to comment on..just hadda type that in the subject.....ummm...I would take that rat bastard thing personal butt I'm pretty sure ya didn't know my Chinese sign was rat...
thats what i hadda type!
I'll trade you my green liver! Goes great with strawberry milk! My dumb neighbor put transmission fluid in his car brakes, so he's sucking the juice out of his car with a hose. He leaves off and asks me seriously with hydraulic juices dripping down his chin, "Hey! You got a turkey baster?" I pat my pockets and reply, "Gee! I musta left it in my other pants!"
Yum! Green liver& ham(wonder if that was on the menu at Alice's}...must've missed that installment..."ghost" written by Dahmer while he was sippin decapitated coffee.They must've been outta toes~t. Like the dwarf Sneezy said "Think Doc got a lil scissor,Happy" Hmmm thats what they r callin' it these days. Since he was a writer and all maybe he could've written me a prescription for sum of what he was on :}~...It's not that easy bein' green(it ain't easy bein'any flesh tone or species for that matter)...duh Kermit your on the menu..well at least part of you is. Don't feel shit on.So's your fellow web~footed friend Daffy...must be sum link between bein' on the menu and the inability to wear toe sox.
Sure you can ruin' my baster...can I borrow your gravy boat to piss in? I had a neighbor ask if i had an extra phone onaccounta they just got there service turned on...well it just happened that I did have an extra..here ya go ..now you can call sumone who gives a fuck....and yet another neighbor asked if I had a bedspread.Sure I keep 5 or 6 on hand for just such an occassion.
"Hydraulic juices dripping down his chin"..sounds like sum kinda hot excerpt from Robot~ica...I,Robot..you Jane.
Robot Blues
Down in Robot City, you might think it's play play play
Down in Robot City, you might think it's play play play
But a Number 5 Robot he must work in all the night and day
Number 1 come by, he give my work to me
Oil the flowers, fix the showers, clean the electronic trees
Shine the light, fix it right, now listen carefully
Don't you go romancing with that pretty Number Three
and that's why, why I got the Robot Blues,
Down in my heart compartment
Down in my old magnetic sole shoes
When I see that Number 3 I get charge all in my dial
When I see that Number 3 my piston fills with oil
You know what I'm talking about
But she likes that number 1 because he's rich with
all my toil toil toil
That Number 3 she charm the heart of any robot man
Moving her body like an old tin can
If I could get my claws on her
I would lubricate her free
I've got a perfect action why won't she play with me
and that's why, why I got the Robot Blues,
Down in my heart compartment
Down in my old magnetic sole shoes
Well I think I'll get a ray gun
I will see what that will do
I think I'll get a ray gun
I think I'll get a ZZ Special Q
I will blast the Number 1's gaskets
and his coils I will refuse to renew
He seen me coming, sneak up from behind
switched off my vision and he left me stone blind
I could not see to blast him
here's the ending of my tale
He went of with Number 3 and I cursed to no avail
and that's why, why I got the Robot Blues,
Down in my heart compartment
Down in my old magnetic sole shoes
Sometimes even robots lose their heads...crimes of passion..bittersweet taste of revenge....he didn't have any complaints about the turkey tastin' like transmission fluid.I think she really went for the other bot onaccounta he was spendin' too much time at this site...http://www.iamlost.com/features/robotporn/
Instead of goin' around killin' coz you can't be with the one you love(coz they think you suck) or love the one your with(coz they dont put out)remember...if you love someone, set them free
if they return to you, they will be yours forever
if they don't...
quit yer fuckin' whinin', ain't like nuttin' shitty's ever happened in your life before...
