If you can't say anything nice about anyone...why not come here for ideas?
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By this time Stu had Granfather sign all the forms for the use of his ghastley face in the TV cartoon, and was ready to leave.
Stu allways avoids sayin bad things about people. I was loudly complainning about Tilde, especially about her danm big mouth. Stu told me not to be hard on her. He also warned me NOT to tell her I had a job offer from TechnoDigiMeriCom(R) unless I wanted it blabbed around the whole company.
Trembolling, he pointed to the back of Tilde's giant black Lincoln Navigater that she had backed up (drunkenly smashed really) into the side of our trailer. There beneath the tailgate was a pair of large size 18 shoes hanging lifelessly just a few inches from the ground. Encrusted all over them was dried dark red liqoid. Flies were buzzing and I smelled old rancid crap and the nutty metallic fragrence of anti greying hair coloring jell.
"OH LORDY," Granfather warbled in a wavoring emotional voice. I turned to see the old basterd dropped to his knees and tears streaming down his face.
"OH LORDY, IF'N YOU HAVE SEEN IN YOUR MERCY," he blobbored, "TO MAKE IT SO MAH BROTHER ZEKE IS DEAD, WHY I PROMISE YOU RIGHT NOW: I WILL GO BACK TO CHURCH."
I said harshley, "It does not work like that, Granfather!"
"SHUT YO' MOUF. THE LORD DONE WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS."
Blankenship added, "Ach. One gander in the mirror will tell convince him so, aye."
Slowly winding down the trail in the dark was the black stattion wagon which belonged to the regional Coroner. He climbed out, chatted somborly for a moment with the EMTs, then aproached Zeke, now strecthed on the gurney, and grasped with his cold Coroner's hand Zeke's grey lifeless wrist.
"At exactlay eleven thirty-one PM," he began, glancing at his watch, "I hearby pronounce...".
"MAH ONLY REGRET," Granfather said gravely, but still with a rudeness as to interupt the Coroner, "IS THAT I WAS NOT PRESENT, NEITHER TO WITNESS THE SURRENDER OF ZEKE'S GHOST IN THE EXACT MOMENT OF DEATH, NOR WAS I A DIRECT PARTICIPANT IN THE DEATH OF THE SUMBITCH...
"HOWEVER LORD," the old basterd continued, revealing to us for the first time a set of (pardon me) balls on him that it was actualy the Lord he was adressing, "I WILL NONETHELESS ACCEPT YOUR KIND BLESSING AS YOU HAVE SUPPLIED IT."
The Coronor looked up, slightley pissed at Granps, and then continued, "...I now hearby pronounce this man....
A huge clunky spasm rocked the gurney as Zeke bolted and twitched...
Aftor a few minutes of heavenword pleading, "PLEASE, LORD! LET IT BE RIGOR MORTIS!", the old basterd lost it.
"TWICE...TWICE I DONE BEEN CHEATED!"
What hapened the next dayThe next day was a mass of frenzey for me. I coud not sleep at all, yet had to pack for the L.A. trip, (we were leaving that night), and also prepaire for cheating on my drug screening test. The L.A. trip woud be hard, because we were hoping to do Cyberblop business, and also TV cartoon business there as well.
Stu had wisely told me not to give notice yet at Cyberblop. My atitude was: Let THOSE basterds send me on a free busines trip to LA, and THEN i woud quit.
I rose when it was still dark. Very carefulley I taped the Ziplock bag of warm Junior juice to my skin. It was so reppulsive and sloshy. But I woud be happy to pay any price to leave Cyberblop, make more money, and best of all, stick the old basterd in an elder care program. I do not have allot of hair on my chest and stomoch, but even still I coud tell that it woud be very painfull tearing this thing off.
"Your drug screening has been postponed to 4 PM. Is that a problem?" he hissed.
Oh, these guys are sneakey. Stu had warned me that TechnoDigiMeriCom(R) was a very tough company that allways did things like this to prosepective hires. Once you are in, you are on easy street. But I still was a prosppective hire and had to be on my wits. I told the creepey sonnoffobich that 4 PM woud be fine.