Typoes on purpose, and just for pity. You cant get more danm pittifull than that.
Page 3 of 7
Its a six mile drive to town and we arived just in time becuase Granfather's cigar had burnt allthe way down to the gold and red paper ring. His eyes were crinkled slits and he cletched the glowing stump of the smoke in his teeth which were totally bared and gnashing like a wild animal because the bastords nose was wrinkoled up as far as it coud go. The sputtoring streetlamp lit up his lavender and moss colored gums. A disgousting string of doglike drool hung from his chin and danced. The only noise we heard was a gurgling snore of the depputy with his head way back, and fast asleep in the sqaud car.
Granfather's awful, brown, bullhead-catfish-skinlike lips closed arround the cigar plug with a snort and he grunted. Smoke puored from his nostrils.
"I'LL BE GOLLDANGED IF'N I LET THET POMPOUS-POKER-UP-HIS-ASS POLYESTER COWPOKE OF A COUNTY CLERK SHOW ME UP," he said.
"I'M BUSTIN OUT O'THIS CANDY STAND."
"Y'HEAR ME, BOY?"
Granfather ordered me to blaze him up anothor stogie. He explianed to us that by rocking back and fourth he was able to loosen the wrouhgt iron fence from where it was stuck into the cement platform. While the landing was made of solid poured cemment, the five-inch fence posts sat in these small wells of simple brick mortor, which Junior was able to crush up easilly with the big Sears screwdrivor.
Granfather also told us that this cheap fence was symbollic of the "shoddy quality of our County Building" and that it woud become a campaign issue by which he hoped to unseat the danm Clerk. He said he woud buy a TV spot of himself sittin in his yard at home looking calmly at the camera with the fence still arround his neck and say:
"IF AN OLD MAN KIN PULL THIS HERE FENCE OFF WITH HIS NECK, JEST THINK O'WHUT A FAT MAN COUD DO WITH HIS ASS."
Granfather said that he woud end the TV comercial with a plea to: "Git off yer own ass, and Vote For Granpy -- before I come over yer house an' take a bite out of it!", along with a very pubblic threat that if he wasnt elected he woud sue the danm town and county for $10 milion, and then just watch propperty taxes go up to pay for it all while drinkin maragarritas and laugin himself sick.
"Speaking of people's asses," I said to him, "I got an angrey call from Uncle Zeke before."
Granfather staired back at me silently until the gist of what I said sunk into his small fist-sized brain. Finaly he said,
"STAPLES....YEAH, WE'VE GOT THAT."
Junior chipped away at the crummbling morter while me and the bastord rocked the fence off its foundation. It took 20 minnutes to get all the posts loose.
Gripping the bars on eithor side of his head the old bastord staired morosely back at us. He looked ecaxtly like the caged chimp in that episode of Seinfeld when Kramer went to the zoo to appollogize to a monkey.
No one said a word, ecxept at one point halfway thruogh his second cigar Granfather muttered in a sprey of brown stringey spit, (Yuck! that got all over my shirt), "THIS HERE H. UPMANN CHURCHILL I'M SUCKIN' ON IS ONE TASTY FOUR DOLLAR SMOKE."
"IF'N SOMEONE GAVE ME A HALF BOX EACH DAY, I'D STAY SQUAT LIKE AN ANIMAL ON THESE HERE STEPS FOREVER."
The top fence ballister was atached to the brick building by a leaf-shaped bracket and a stove bolt. This took anothor ten minnutes to loosen. During that time Granfather woudnt shut up. He began whisporring ecxitedly about all the things he woud do, once elected County Clerk. Like make evereyone who he hated stand in long lines when they needed to do county business. (For him, that meant evoryone in the county). Also the bastord ramboled on and on about how thankfull he was for Judge Susan Weber Wright, the Jugde who descided in the Paula Jones suit that Govenor Clinton did NOT sexaully harass Ms. Jones, because alls he did was drop his trousers and ask for sex ONE TIME, and not repeatedley.
"UNDER THE GRAMPY ADMINISTRATION," Granfather declaired grandiously, while whispering loudly with the cigar in his teeth, "EVERY FEMALE EMPLOYEE IN THIS HERE COUNTY WILL RECEIVE ONE EXPOSURE, AND ONE REQUEST FER SEX, AS IN ACCORDANCE WITH FEDERAL NON-HARASSMENT GUIDELINES RECENTLY ESTABLISHED BY JUDICIAL PRECEDENT."
I ignoared the old geezer's chattering stuppidity. Junior whispored in my ear if I knew whether "harass" was one word or two. Finaly the whole fence got loose. Since there was onley four steps going up, the whole segment of wrohgt iron fencing was only 6 feet long. This was big enuogh the Granfather to sit confortably in the back of Junoiur's truck as we drove him home.
"GENTLEMEN, I BELIEVE MY BALLS ARE DONE CAUGHT IN THIS HERE STORM TRAP."
Did you ever see on a cement landing, when they somtimes put in a drywell drain in to catch the rain? (Not that it ever rains arround here anymore, thanks to the droght). This wasnt no little zinc plate with holes in it from the Home Depot. No, it was a heavey iron grating abbout a foot sqaure in size with spaces between the bars which were just the rihgt size as to catch an old man's orbs when they happan to slip out of the leg openning of his adult diaper.
"WELL WHUT THE HELL'S WE S'POSED TO DO NOW?" he screamed. Then he reached his hands thru the wruoght iron fence posts and whacked me as if it were MY fault. He grabbed my cheekbone betwean his thumb and fourfinger and twisted HARD. It hurt like hell. I told him to HUSH, or else hed wake up the depputy."
"Lordy, lordy!" Junior started to weep. "Pore, pore Granpy!"
"MEBBE I'D BETTER FERGIT ABOUT A CAREER IN POLITICS!" Granfather moaned, and then startad practicing in his Lynden Johnson schoolboy voice: "I WILL NOT SEEK...NOR WILL I ACCEPT....MY PARTY'S NOMINATION FOR COUNTY CLERK...
Sudenly Junior had an idea. He said if we heated up the bars a little with the ciggarrete lighter they might expand.
"OH NO, YOU DON'T," said the bastord. "I DON'T RIGHTLY CARE FER BARBECUED OYSTERS ON THE GRILL, THANK YOU VERY MUCH."
But i told him it was 75 degrees out and alls they had to do was get up to 95 or so and that wasnt even as hot as body temperrature. The bastord finaly agreed. Me and Junior played a quick game of Paper-Scisors-Rock to determine who had the unfortunnate task of laying on his belley in such close proximmity to Granp's ass with a lit flame. Junior lost.
"LISSEN UP, JUNIOR," said the basterd, "YOU TOAST NIGH JEST ONE HAIR ON MY MANLY GIBLETS, I'LL LET A FART GO," he threatenned in a severe low growl.
"YOU'LL BE KNOWN 'ROUND THESE HERE PARTS AS 'THE-MAN-WITHOUT-A-FACE'."
While Junior relluctantly worked, Granfather began to tell him this story about my childhood, this extremmly embarassing story.
"HEY, JUNIOR: YOU'VE HEARD OF HERCULES.
BUT YOU EVER HEAR THE STORY OF TEST-A-CLEES?"
I said to the old coot, "OK Granfather, that is enuogh. Please STOP." But he kept tellin the story. Then I made Granfather promise not to tell the story--othorwise I woud wake up the deputy myself. Finaly the old basterd agreed.