ALCOHOLICS WITH NAILGUNS
PART ONE - PART TWO
I saw the Alcoholic Rehabilitation advert on T.V. The man gave a pitch about hiring the old 24hr. hangover zombies to pick up trash, or work in your yard. Behind the announcer stood a motley crew of jaded alkies. The winos frittered about with power tools as they watched themselves on the studio monitors.
These are the same guys I'd seen on the news a bunch of times. The Govt. paid some character to put nailguns in the hands of hard-boiled, cracky-necked, grey-skinned alcoholics so, I, the general public, would hire them to fuck up anything they touched. They had no idea who they're messin' with! This is Texas! As a loyal Texan, I felt it my duty to teach these criminals a lesson they wouldn't soon forget!
I felt a surge of Alamo-like patriotism as I carefully collected the necessary tools for my mission. Soon, I was cruising to the pickup spot in a freshly stolen vehicle. I pulled up with a smile on my face and said,
"Who wants to work?"
None of the winos budged as they eyed me with suspicion.
"The pay is good, the job is easy, and I got a whole box of sangwiches for lunch."
The alkies stared back like cardboard zombies, frozen with indecision.
"Also, I got a few of gallons of prime hootch here."
Immediately, I was inundated with winos highjumping over one another in a desperate attempt to get to me first. In two seconds, a dozen alcoholics filled the car to the brim. I drew out my "driving bat", and started wailing on heads, elbows, and kneecaps, until I had the personnel situation squared away. Any wino I didn't want, I simply knocked the shit out of him until he left. Any wino I did want, I simply knocked the shit out of him until he stayed.
My work crew trembled in mortal terror as I barreled down the freeway to the job. I mentioned that I had no objections if they might "like a taste" before they actually started working. Like cream starved calves, 3 ravenous winos sucked down 3 gallons of wine in about 3 minutes. They were in such a hurry, they neglected to notice the bottle cap seals were made at Kinko's. By the time the Xanax finished kicking in, all 3 of my workers were out cold, sleeping like contented swine. I laughed out loud as I pulled up to the burnt down motel, soon they would understand what "Don't Mess With Texas" was all about.
SPLASH! The winos were awakened abruptly, as I generously splashed each one with his own pot of scalding, hot coffee.
"Its wake up time!... Time to go to work! "
SPLASH! "Aaaaaaaeeeeeahhhh, nnnoooooo! .. no! please! "
"Nothing like a little hot coffee to take the edge off a hard nap "
"(sobbing) Why are you doing this to us?...."
"Don't even try to make a break for it I got you completely boxed in with chicken wire, and as you can plainly see, I got it wired direct to the 110v socket "
ZAP!!! A wino was thrown to the ground by a jolt when he grabbed the chicken wire by mistake.
"Damn it! Don't you understand English? oh, you DON'T ...I bet you understand wall current just fine!"
The winos huddled together in the middle of the electrified chicken wire fence, pitifully bemoaning their 2nd & 3rd degree burns, and begging for mercy...
"Ever seen a 'wino's cross'? You see them clothesline poles over there? Perfect for crucifixion. Don't worry! I don't use no nails, I'm a duct tape man from way back but I'm still a firm believer in Purification By FIRE!"
"Fire?!!! Oh, God help us! (weeping)"
Now, THAT'S where I draw the line. When the State Of Texas has you in its sights, not even God can extricate you from the bull's eye painted by your own sins .
"You shouldn't have messed with Texas, now Texas is gonna mess with you!"
I cringed to the bone as they hit me with their "we're sorry, please let us go" bullshit. We don't like cowards here in the Lone Star State, it kinda makes us wanna puke. I decided to pull one of my surprise practical jokes, and I tossed a sack of egg salad sangwiches to my captive audience. They were so hungry, they tore the bag open, they were trying to eat them sangwiches as fast as they could stuff 'em down...
Then I yelled, "Haha, I GOT YOU, you lazy, free-lunch, parasite bastards!", as hordes of angry scorpions crawled out from the egg salad, furiously stinging their mouths and lips. Now the winos were really out of their minds with pain and terror . Raw panic was written on their faces, and they squealed like condemned pigs, knowing they were headed straight for the slaughterhouse...
"Say, would anybody like to top off with one more?...before we get down to some good old fashioned hard work?..."
They crawled on their toes and fingers thru the rocks and dirt... straight towards me. They quickly reached me, and still trembled as they began licking my boots, begging me for a tiny swallow of the sacred medicine.
Even us die-hard Texans have a compassion for humanity, so I handed them the last gallon jug, and they passed it between them, until it was gone in under 2 minutes.
Before 30 more seconds passed, all three of my employees were having violent puking seizures, writhing on the ground, with long, foamy blobs, dribbling out of their mouths and noses, very nearly choking to death in their own vomit and snot.
"Yeah, that's little home-brew cocktail I concocted from an ol' Johnny Fok recipe Maddog 20/20, paint thinner, acetone, ether, tape head cleaner, aluminum foil, and some methyl ethyl ketone Hey, don't bitch, its better than that shoe polish strained thru white bread you're used to huffin' Hello? ."
Once again, my crew was out like a row of defective Christmas lights.... oblivious to the undreamed of horror that awaited them... (I can personally guarantee the reader, this is not a story where ignorance will be allowed to equal bliss for very long... in fact, quite the opposite is in store...)
The Final Solution
"....to be concluded, and believe me,
if you love Texas,
you don't want to miss it!"
- Dr. Popeye X
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