Okay, its almost over...
"Studly?" said the girl, who by this time was not gigglin no more, "Studly J. Hunk, whar the hell you think you're going?"
The back door led to the yard which was much smallor than I expected. Plus it was fenced in. I tried to climb out over the fence. I geuss I should of borrowed Granfather's orange blazer cause I ripped the one I was wearing on the frikin chain links on top. Somwhere off in the distance a dog barked. There was an awful metallic sound as the backdoor swang way open and shut at the force of bein pushed real hard by the father as he folowed me out. "Where are you going?" he barked at me.
"I am gettin the hell out of here, sir," I said and just as the words were out of my mouth he said "you bet your ASS your gettin outof here."
It was my only good blazor and now it was ruined. Plus I cut the side of my head. I was bleeding like crazy. I had to run around the block and across somone's lawn to get back to my car. Then I got in and drove off. The girl was howling, "StudLEE! StudLEE! Come on back heah!"
Then I drove all the way home. I was feelin pretty danm dejected too. When I pulled up a white Chevy was parked infront of the trailer. It was the County Clerk's car. He probly had come here to confront the beastly geezer for publicly embarrassing him in the cafe.
The TV was on extremely loud. Granfather's girlfriend, the deadpan little gnome faced woman who looks like a female version of Al Franken sat on the couch suckin on a Virginia Slim and concentrating hard on watching a rerun of "Star Trek: Voyager."
"KIN YOU B'LEEVE IT?" Granfather shreiked through a cigarete clenched in his teeth.
"YET ANOTHER EPISODE ABOUT THE DANM HOLOGRAPH DOCTOR FACING THE THREAT OF ACCIDENTALLY GITTIN' HIS ASS ERASED OFF THE COMPUTER.
"YOU'D THINK THAY'D BE SMART ENOUGH TO HAVE THE SUMBITCH BACKED UP ON FLOPPY SOMEWHAR."
I said, "Granfather, what is going on?" I looked over at the girlfreind but she didnt give me no answor other than, "You forgot your condoms," and she pointed ovor to what Granfather was atempting to fit over the County Clerk's head. Also she did remark that I was still bleeding.
"SO, YOU TRULY IS BLEEDIN' BOY," Granfather mused, while still kneeling on the back of the poor bucking and thrashing County Clerk as the old basterd contineud trying to kill him.
"SO, DO TELL, HOW'D IT HAPPEN? DID THE GAL CLAW YOU WHEN YOU GOT FRESH WITH HER?" I told him no, I got these wounds while escaiping the girl's father.
"ATTABOY! I KNOWED YOU COUD DO IT!," he crowed, and at that moment suceeded in gettin the curled latex rim of the deadley weapon completely over the County Clerk's head. Granfather was still gaping in his evil grin as I walked past him quickley and returned from the kitchen with the closest sharp thing I coud find: a ceratted edge grapefruit spoon.
"WHUT THE HAYLE YOU'D DO THAT FER?" the old basterd snapped.
I said, "To keep you out of Huntsville." Huntsville is the place they execute you with lethol injection in Texas.
"YOU SHOULD OF LET ME KEEP IT ON. HE'D OF BEEN DEAD BEFORE THE COMING ATTRACTIONS."
The County Clerk rose to his feet and stumboled toward the front door. Usually when he leaves in a huff its acompanied by some sort of murdderous threat against the old basterd. But this time he was freakin happy to leave alive.
Even thuogh it was late with all the fisticuffs there was no time to have supper. So after Star Trek: Voyager was over, Granfather's odd little girlfreind cooked for us and we all sat down and ate. I have to say it was probly the most awful meal I ever had but at least Granfather was in a good talkattive mood.
"I LIKE 'VOYAGER,' I SUPPOSE, BUT AH TRULY PREFER THE ORIGINAL SERIES.
"'SPECIALLY WHEN OL' CAPTAIN KIRK SAYS, NAME YER OWN PRICE(tm) FOR THIS HERE CAN O'WHOOP ASS I'M ABOUT TO OPEN UP ON YO' ALIEN BEE -HIND."
When the girlfreind got up for a minute Granfather whispored to me, "BOY. WHUT THE HELL IS THIS WE'RE EATIN'?" I said I did not know.
"I FEEL LIKE THE DAWG WHO COMES UPON AN UNIDENTIFIED STEAMING PILE OF SOME SUCH SETTIN' THAR ON THE GRASS WHO SNIFFS IT A LITTLE AND THEN THINKS TO HIMSELF: 'THIS HERE MIGHT BE FOOD. IF NOT, I'LL JUST PUKE IT UP LATER'."
But both me and him ate it and both survived. I said to him, "Granfather, why are you so talkative?" ahd ne said, "AH AIN'T TALKATIVE...SAY, DID I EVER TELL YOU THE STORY WHAR I FIRST MET YER GRANDMAW'S PAW?" AND THE DAWG KEPT MAKIN GAS?"
The old basterd woud just not shut up.
The next day was Sunday and Granfather's talkative mood had not yet ended. He kept on yammering all day. The old basterd wanted to know all about my upcoming date with the young lady police officor which was that night. He certianly was very talkative lately. Which is always disguosting because he spits when he talks.
I asked him why one more time. And this time the crooked old basterd gave me a straihgt answer. He told me somthing very distourbing.
"BOY, YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHUT. BUT I THINK AH MAY BE IN LOVE."
I did not have an answor for him. I guessed I shoud of been happy for the old basterd. But insted i hate to admit I was a little jeallous.
She insisted I get on the back of her motercycle. She made a coupel of tight turns and fast accelerations to impress me and kind of a wheelie. On the turns I was so scared I almost crapped. I tried hard not to hold her too tight so she woudnt think I was coming on to her.
At the restarant we talked. She was nice, but a few years older than me (at least) plus was kind of tough and not extremly dainty. We had nothing in common. I am extremly shy and and am probly a terrible date. Well, mabye we had one thing in common. We are both afraid to eat certian foods.
"Would you call me a fat chick or a skinny chick?" she asked out of the blue. The right answor to that is ALWAYS skinny, (geez, even Granfather knows that), but she realy was skinny and all muscle too. Not that I am atracted to this sort of thing, but, Damn, she probly coud of crushed an alunimum beer can between her tiny muscular ass cheeks for Godsake.
After we ate she insisted on paying. It was houmilliating. Then we ended up at her place for cofee. You know, I have to tell you:
"Why did you call me? Why did you want to meet me, since I banged you in the head with Chinese food?"
She said she didnt quite know, but it was definitly my histericol crying hissy fit that did it.
"Partly cause I felt sorry for you," she said, "And partly cause, well, looking at you handcuffed and bawling and thrashing on the grass, I dunno, it kind of turned me on."
"What is that music your playing?" I asked.
"Oh, that's the theme to "Twin Peaks." I taped it off of BRAVO, theyre running reruns of it."
She must of looped it, cause we listened to it a danm hour.
She told me that she wrote this music...but she wasnt sure it was good...and then she said, "Oh well, forget it." I coud tell she was realy dying to play some for me. So the next thing I know she turns off the Twin Peaks tune (which turned out to be freakin Mozart next to what I ended up hearing), and started atacking this guitar and singing.
Then I started thinkin about how it was now two oclock in the morning, and I was probly 10 or 15 miles from my car, which, if I ran out of the door right now, I woud never be able to find. Plus my car was at least 40 miles from my house. I started to get a little scaired of this psycho biker chick. I was just never going to get the hell out of here. She just woud NOT STOP SINGING it just woud NOT END. I had to go to work the next day Plus I had to piss Oh God i had to piss so freakin bad IF ONLY IT WOUD END...