Put This Here One in Yer Kitchen Sink an' Smoke It : How Ah Learned ta Dodge tha Bullet All Quicklike an' Flock a Seagulls Done Got Shot in tha Face

This is the second in a series of random and uninformed exposés, blamed on chosen by you, the reader. Please, please, please (no pressure) leave your post topic requests in comments. This second one is brought to you by Randal who writes:

"Since you just wrote on copulation and booze how about
'The Flock of Seagulls Got Shot In The Face, A Story of Freida Bee's Musicalism and Tangential Storifications, with Denouement Chaser'."

Well, Randal, if that is even your real name, I'll see your challenge to displace Hall and Oates from their primary musicianship status on my blog with your dirty violent Flock of Seagulls propaganda and raise you Def Leppard!

This week's special report is brought to you by Burger King™ Whoppers. "We keep sellin' em and you buyin' em." ™

How A Flock a Seagulls Got Shot in the Face:
A Story of Florence Joe's Musicalism and Tangential Storifications (with Denouement Chaser)

When ah woked up tha' Sunday, ah thought it were jes' another day. Ah got up an' put on mah uniform. Ah didn't have no time fer mah shower, so's ah jes' went. Ah knew'd ah could sneak mahself a breakfast biscuit off tha line when Roy weren't lookin', so ah jes' got mah Marlboro Lights at tha 7-11.

"No Super Big Gulp t'day, Mr. Unstable?" Rita teased me. She has tha hots fer me, it's obvious, an' we hooked up tha' one time, but she works at 7-11. Ah gots mah standards. Ah was gettin' paid later, an' ah was broke, so figgered ah'd have ta sneak mahself a Pepsi, too. Ah hoped Roy weren't in one a he's "If you got time to lean, you got time to clean" moods. Ever since he an' tha Mrs. been gettin' they's divorce, he's had some kinda bug up he's ass. Ah can understand why she left him fer tha' mechanic all the chicks likes. Roy's successful an' all, but he ain't no fun. Never.

We all saw she's affair comin'. She done shopped through us real good. Ah was tha first. When she showed up on Roy's day off an' told me he asked her to see how many whopper patties we had in stock, ah didn't think nothin' 'bout it at first. She followed me into tha walk-in an' waited atween me an' tha door while ah took stock a how many whopper patties was in there. Ah was jes' 'bout ready ta really get pissed off 'bout seeing tha' they was three boxes opened at tha same time when ah turned 'round ta see Mrs. Smith's rack right in ma face.

She unbuttoned mah pants and pulled em down real quicklike like they do in tha movies an' sat me back on them boxes a whoppers. Mah ass was real cold, but soon as she started blowin' me, ah knew ah weren't gonna ask her iffin' ah could jes' stand. Ah'd been hopin' ta get mahself a taste a Mrs. Smith's pie e'er since ah heard Roy talkin' 'bout how he done paid off she's boob job on layaway, an' here we was.

She wouldn't let me nowhere near she's pie, but she gives one mean blowjob. After ah came all over's she's perty titties, an mah cum done dripped down onto tha floor a tha walk-in, we jes' started laughin' real hardlike, put we's clothes back on an' walked out. Ah don' think no one noticed, but ah could see she's face were redder than a baby's bottom that jes' been spanked on account a how cold tha walk-in were.

On this pacific day, ah clocked in, put on mah's apron an' got right on mah station at tha drive thru. Drive thru is mah favorite station, 'cause it's tha best one to pick up chicks at. Tha's how ah met Florence Joe tha' day. She an' she's Hooters friends was on they's break before tha luch hour rush an' drived right up to tha window. Ah was 'bout ta get pissed. Ah hate's when people comes up an' orders right at the window. Tha' means ah gots to either get up an' walk around or chit chat with they through tha window.

But, when ah saw ah had me a cabful a Hooters girls all to mahself, ah made a exception. It weren't Florence Joe drivin', but she's tha one tha' was givin' me tha pertiest eye. Thank goodness we had jes' runned outta fries, cause they had to sit there an' wait fer a whole 'nother batch ta cook up an' it were then she told me ah oughtta come on over ta Hooters later during they's Happy Hour. She said she'd hook me an' one a my friends (as she tilted she's head to she's friend right next to her) up wit' some free drinks iffin' we could get over there before 6:00. Then she drove off... an' jes' in time....

All's of a sudden, ah hear's Roy yellin' again, an' ah look over an' ah see Flock a Seagulls gettin' yanked outta tha walk-in pullin' up he's drawers. And, then ah see why. Mrs. Smith comes outta tha walk-in wit' nothin' on, but whipped cream on she's pie an' ah start lookin' ta see iffin' there ain't a way ah can run, 'cause iffin' they's two things ah know, they's tha' Roy is a Jesus freak an' Roy is a gun freak.

Didn't nobody need to say nobody was fired or nothin'. Tha' would jes' be sayin' tha ovious, an' as Flock a Seagulls was runnin' out tha fire exit, ah slipped him he's hat an' told him ta meet me on o'er at Hooters at 5 o'clock.

Ah prolly shoulda got mad at Flock a Seagulls. Roy didn't have no bug up he's ass tha rest of tha day; he had a whole alligator up there. Tha only good thing was he took off earlier than usual and we got ta listen to Whitesnake out tha intercom tha rest a tha afternoon. Ah knew'd ah was gonna get me some, and ah knew Flock a Seagulls (what we called Kirk ever since he got he's hair dyed yella an' put some hairspray in it makin' him look like that freak in tha' band) needed ta get laid on account a ah could see he still had he's boner when he came outta tha walk-in.

Since ah hadn't taken no shower that mornin' an ah was made ta clean tha fryer tha' afternoon what that makes me looks like a greaser, ah a'cided ta take me a bath in the sink. What tha fuck. Roy weren't gonna be there, an' there was one a them spray nozzles what that can be like a shower. Everyone thought ah was wacked before. Tha's why they called me Mr. Unstable, I guess, but when Melinda started recordin' me in tha sink on she's cell phone, ah knew'd ah'd struck gold. Ah could put tha' shit on MySpace an' it were gonna go instant viral.

When ah showed up at Hooter's, ah saw Flock a Seagulls waitin' for me at tha bar, ah went an' sat down. Ah saw ma girl Florence Joe, who came up an' gived ma a big wet one, and she introduced she's girl Tiffany to Flock a Seagulls jes' a'fore all hell broke loose. "What are you doin' wit' my bitch?" ah heared some asshole yell, and ah turned, and saw some freak headin' over we's way to kick someone's ass.

Then all's of a sudden from tha other side, ah see Roy comin' from tha end a tha bar with he's gun. "Shit," ah yelled and ducked down 'jes a fore ah heared bullets fly. Florence Joe yelled, "No Carl Wayne, don't!" then screams an' all sorts a noises. Ah saw Flock a Seagulls fall to tha ground wit' he's face shot an' bleedin' an' ah heard someone else drop to tha floor, 'but ah couldn't tell who it were, but things got quiet.

Ah heared sirens an' got up an' told Jasper, who ah knewed from tha firehouse, tha Flock a Seagulls done been shot, and they said he was still breathin' an' they took him on into tha hospital. Florence Joe was standin' over that guy Carl Wayne as the other fireman put a blanket on him like they do in tha movies when someone dies. She looked white as a ghost.

"Who's that?" I asked her, and in a voice ah could barely hear, she said, "That there's mah kids' babydaddy." "Oh shit," ah said. "Ah's sorry ta hear it." "Ah ain't," she whispered to me wit' she's tears comin' down she's eyes. "He were a son of a bitch and a half, an' ah'm glad ta be done wit' he's sorry ass. Ah jes' don't want to tell his mamma. There ain't no way she ain't gonna think ah's behind this."

We stood there for a long time, while everyone cleaned up tha mess. Hooters closed early tha' night even though tha fellas was complain', an' Florence Joe asked if ah wanted company goin' on over to tha hospital to check on Flock a Seagulls. Ah took her up on tha'. On we's way over to tha hospital, we noticed they was people pulled over all over the side of the road jes' afore it started ta pour down rain.

Off in tha distance we saw they was a twister headin' toward Junction City what couldn't be good wit' all them trailer parks. All's of a sudden Florence Joe put she's pedal to the metal, an' ah swear ta God, she started chasin' that twister right then an' there. She cranked up she's radio an' ah jes' smiled. Somethin' told me mah luck was about to change. Ah love me some Def Leppard.

Ps- Don't worry, Dr. Monkey, no actual mullets were harmed in the making of this post.


Comrade Kevin said...

Write about your experience as a stripper/waitress named Candy.

Megan said...

Holy crap. I need to remember to take my pills before I come over here...

Randal Graves said...

Every time I pass a burger joint, I'm going to think of this post. I will tell you afterward whether that's good/bad, a good bad or a bad good or all threesome.