Patton Lee Beaugus | December 12, 2010 12:45pmLook, Up In The Sky
Suddenly, up in the sky. I saw something. It wasn't a bird! It wasn't a plane. No, it was a big bird hauling a plane behind it!
I squinted. My eyes aren't what they used to be, and I hate glasses. And I have no depth perception which is good because it kept me out of the Vietnam. So I squinted.
No, wasn't a bird at all. It looked like it was a big flying horse pulling what looked like a big red '57 Caddy convertable. Jeez, my eyesight couldn't be that bad.
How drunk was I? In my mispent youth, and even my mispent middle age, I've had some memory lapses in the morning following an evening when I've been overserved by sadistic bartenders, but I'd never hallucinated before. At least not just drinking.
The PartyMob looked up. Suddenly the broke into applause.
The car radio must have been playing because there was music that wasn't from the bar. It was loud. It was hip-hop of some kind. It sounded like it was sung by an electric gerbil I guess it must have been gangsta rap, of which I am not an expert.
The flying whatever, which should at least have had the decency to have wings, kept circling in front of the caddy until the song was finished.
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2Ba Gangsta
This text will be replaced by the flash music player.
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta A Partymob gangsta’s always stylin A Partymob gangsta parties his way Partymob gangstas gets free valet Wanna-bee gonna-bees are flashin' everybody how they're big time But Partymob gangstas get the hot dolls Cuz Partymob gangstas got the meatballs. And everything is cool in the mind of a Gangsta, A Partymob Gangsta ain't no weenie We’re the BuddaBings and we stole all the songs. Partymob gangstas like linguini. And all I gotta say to you wanna-be, gonna-be soprano-lovin', carol singing pranksters When the carols are gone, what the freak ya gonna do? Damn, it feels good to be a Gangsta. And all I gotta say to you Christmas past, candy ass, old timey choir boy wangsters When the hip get to hoppin, what the freak ya gonna do? Damn, it feels good to be a Gangsta. Damn, it feels good Damn, it feels fine Damn, it feels good to be a Gangsta. |
Then it landed in the backyard, sliding along the icy cobblestones, pulling the red Caddy behind it. This looked like something for MythBusters to bust. The horse looked like a Clydesdale. Yeah, you know, like one of the huge beer wagon pulling horses. Only this horse had big phony antlers on. Like idiot tourists with Statue Of Liberty crowns. And a fake red light nose, that blinked. And either the horse had very strange markings or it was wearing makeup! I looked at the others. Nobody else seemed amazed. Just happy! Make that ecstatic." D'Oliya was jumping up and down like a little kid, and that made me join them in their ecstatic-asism.  |
“Clydie Deerest.” shouted Vinnie. "You great big beautiful doll."
“Clydie is formerly of the Clydesdales you saw on tv… in your former reality” said Molly, as she rushed over to give the horse some pets.
My former reality? Reality? Where in all this was there any freaking reality?
The gang quickly removed the harness from huge animal, so it was no longer attached to the Caddy.
The front seat and the back seat of the Caddy were piled high with lotsa stuff. Strange stuff.
The gang moved so fast and with such coordination, I thought it was like "call to stations" in some submarine movie, only without the klaxon.
"Are we back on schedule?" demanded HiTone as he pulled some bricky stuff out of the trunk.
"Close," answered Molly, as she grabbed a plasma screen monitor.
"We'll never make it in time," yelled Vinnie as they started setting up the stuff in the bar's backyard patio, like to some prearranged plan. It was like watching a flower blossoming at high speed on the Tulip Channel.
WTF!
