Saturday, March 24, 2012
Thoughts I has before I sleep
TULILUUUU!! Wehweh weeeehhhh. TULILUUUU!! Wehweh weEEEEh. TULILUUUU!! Weh, wehwehweh... Think Clint Eastwood. The Wild, Wild West. The mosquito and I faced each other across the dusty town street. Faces peered at us from the mirrors all along the buildings that made up this hick little pitstop of Le Bedroom. That's right. The French named it. I spotted the bartender wiping a space into her grimy little rearview to catch a glimpse of the epic battle that was about to happen. A tumbleweed blew forlornly in the hot summer sun, unaware, unassuming of the carnage that was to ensue. I spat tobacco onto the ground. It formed a hard little dark ball, sheltering itself from my icy steel gaze, which was now fixed on my unworthy opponent. 'Skeeter,' says I, in a voice hewn by blood and sand, 'Le Bedroom ain't big enough for the both of us.' Skeeter humphed. It was a well known fact that Skeeter never, ever talked. He just played dirty. Real dirty. And when he got mad, he got a look in his eye that said something was about to fly. 'Now we can do this the easy way, where you turn right on around all peaceful-like and keep walking, or we can-' ZZZZZT!!! The cheating bloodsucker hit me! His bullet-like proboscis sliced off an arm of my shirt, and before I could react, another jab zinged me right under my left eye. 'You...you filthy, no good lying son of a gun!' ZZZZTTT! I was mad, now. I heard a collective gasp when I pulled out my secret weapon. I call her Wrath. She's a beaut. 2010 model, fits like a glove in my hand, and never. Ever. Misses a mark. But Skeeter should've known better than to mess with the fastest hand in the West. 'Feel!' I raised my baby into the air, the sun and my arm forming a perfect halo around my vengeful head. 'My!' I didn't even need to aim. My slipper rang true as my arm moved like lightning and- 'WRATH!' And that's how Skeeter McSting met his match, on that hot, but cold, day, with a lime green Bata slipper and a badass mamajama. TULILUUUU!! Wehweh weeeehhh... tSN P.s. I has thirst.