Roy L. Harbin : The DANG - DInGIE American aka,, The Evil White Man

Wee!Gee!prt24 by Roy L.Harbin

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Wee!Gee! part twenty four by Roy L. Harbin

Coming along behind me Mike turned on the television then began flipping through the channels.Laughing,,I said,,"Oh no,Mike,,I said,,'let US rolla few,,before we go'.Come on,,help me roll a widdle spliff bouquet before we stroll to roll to get Dale." and pulled my sack out to flop it down heavily on the top of my stash box which made him do a real double take and turn the tv off.

"Aaah,,a bouquet o'queef!Yes sir,,I vill help you arrange a bouquet o'ghanja!" he exclaimed while stepping smartly away from the television set to sit down quickly in the opposite chair.

I poked at him a bit with,,"Wouldn't a bouquet o' ghanja actually be just buds,flowers and leaves in an arrangement?" while laying out my paraphanalia and inhaled the aroma of 'some really good weed' bursting out of it's barely closed enough to stay closed container.

"Yeah,,you're right." Looking at and nodding his head toward the plastic bag filled with ghanja he smiled and said,"It looks like ya got enuff there to make one though." Sniffing loudly,,he then asked,"That come from Johns cuz?"

"As if ya can't ya tell by the smell.",was framed by an immensly pleased smile.I then flipped him a few wraps and opened the baggy over my inverted stash boxs lid.

The falling buds made a delightful sound that seemed to set Mike to giggling.After putting a good handful out I laid the baggy down with my left hand and picked up the lid with my right to shake the weed around untill the pile spread out.As I set it back down the edges of the open sack to the left of it seemed to move like a set of lips in order to say,,"I took a little,,but if ye bring me what you find floating in,,I'll half it with ye and give ye some loot,,yes,,half of it with loot ta boot." in Hirams voice.

Freezing like a paused vcr image I stared at the bag of pungent herbage untill it said,"Hey,,it wasn't scary was it,boy?Don't tell me a bag of dope ain't never talked to you before."

Mike,,who stopped giggling when I stopped moving,asked,,"What's wrong?" which prompted me to say,,"Nada,,I was just thinking about something.Here." and took a clump off the tray with one hand while wiping the table in front of him with the other before setting several joints worth of pot there.

Turning back to what was on my tray I started scooting it around to check if it was as seedless as 'jonscuzbud' usually was.Mike reached into the box and rummaged out the two small curved surgical scissors I kept for cutting up pot when the phone rang out in the other room.

Laying one on his side and one back in the box he said,"I'll get it." then he quickly stood and had vanished into the hall before I said to his back through the closing door,"I bet it's John." To which his receeding voice replied,,"Or Dale whining for us to hurry up!"

Nodding,,I turned to the project at hand at started cutting up the primo senseimillia.I could hear Mikes voice as he answered the phone with,"It may be your dime but it's my time,don't waste it." which must have ellicited a hostile reaction from whoever was on the other end since as Mikes voice came closer he said,,"Don't give me no shit and there won't be no shit,,okay dude?"

Coming down the hall and through my door he was listening to the caller with an intensely angry look on his face untill he got to the end of my bed.In an angry tone he began saying into the handset,,"No,,I won't and if ya don't like it you can get screwed,dude.Huh?No.Screw you.No,,Screw You,Man!Screw you!Ha.You wish.Screw you.You suck donkey dick,dude,screw you." and then put the phone in my hand which I had stuck up as soon as the the second screw you had come out of his mouth.

Tucking the cordless in the crook of my neck so I could keep rolling I said,,"Hey John,,what's up?" John laughed and said,,"Like I have a clue?That's why I'm calling you.Mom told me you burned that pointer in Hirams fireplace.What did it look like?" , "What?" , "The fire.", "Freaky man!It was a pure dee trip.You ever see it?" , "Not when he was using it.Mom and Dad have told me about how the fire looks really strange when Hiram does stuff without using loas." ,"Man,all I can say is I'm glad I remember anything at all about what happened since he did some kind of Lamont Cranston mind fogging crap on me." , "Yeah,he's done that to me too.It freaks me out." , That made me think that maybe Hiram didn't let John remember a lot more than he let me or he would have surely said something about Hirams hired hand so I just said,"Tell me about it,,where are ya?"

"At the Cumberland Farms.I just dropped my mom off and picked up my skim board and junk.I'm gonna pick up Priscilla on my way." , "Uh,,Dale ran off the road and got his van stuck in the woods or something so we're gonna go see what's up in a few minutes.We're just gonna roll a spliff bouquet first."

"Those are pretty.Is Dale okay?Where's he at?" , "Yeah,,I guess.Down by that graveyard in Whispering Palms is what Mike said.He talked to him,I didn't." , "What was he doing down there?" , "I have no clue,John." , , "Allright,,hey,,," Knowing what he was about to ask I looked at Mike and tapped the table to divert his attention to me off of the collection of joints he was building,,which prompted him to say,,"About halfway in between the cemetary and the next road on the same side."

"I heard him,,if you ain't home when I get there,I'll find ya'll."" John said."Anything you want me to bring?"

The dreams scene of a dark skinned man falling off a skim board trying to catch a frizbee flipped to him by a pretty girl in a bikini came to mind,,"Ya gotta frizbee?" , "Uh,,no.I don't.Maybe Priscillas got one.Don't you have one?" , "I think I do,,but I don't know where it's at.I haven't seen it in awhile,,since we went to that public lake in Micco."

"Up there where your grandparents lived?That was like three months ago." , "Yeah it was,,it was a blast though." ,"Yeah it was." , "Look down beside the front door steps if I ain't here when you get here." "Uh,,why?Oh,,okay,cool." , Well,,I'll see ya in a while." , "Okay.",,"Oh,hey!" , "What?", "Give the phone to Mike." , "'kay,See ya,John.Here Mike,,he wants to talk to ya."

Taking the phone from me and placing it to his ear he said "What?No,Scr,,".He dropped the hand it was in to his lap and looked at me with a pouty face while saying in a childlike voice,,"He said screw you Mike and hung up." then picked it back up to hold it squarely in front of his face so he could yell straight at it with,,"No,,Screw You,Dude!"

He then set it down with a smile on his face,,said,,'What a big dick." and went back to twisting hippie candy before he asked,"What was that about a freaky fire?"

"Dude,,it was weird,,Johns moms friend made a magic fire to destroy the pointer and the spirit in it."


"Okay,,just roll and listen,," and for the next few minutes I gave him an account of some of the events that had occured,,not all of what I remembered of course,,just the part about burning the pointer and what the house and Hiram looked like.Not where it was,,day turning to night,,or anything about a zombie bridgetender.I did not tell him of the dreams I was having when he woke me up,either.Something made me believe that those were best not shared at all with anyone,just yet.

By the time I had got done telling him about the fire and the weird old dude I had dipped into the sack for another pile apiece resulting in about two dozen reasonable sized jernts which Mike gathered together into a bundle while I put away the seemingly undiminished remainder in my stash box then put it away.

Standing back up I was greeted by the sight of Mike Quasimodo'ing past my bed,kneeling like an egyptian slave,hold his arms above his head proffering the 'spliff bouquet' to me while saying,,"Here,massah,,a bouquet of ghanja prepared in easy to share portions for you to enjoy." , "You have assisted me well,,Igor."

Chuckling as he stood back up I asked,,"How many are there?" , "Twenty two." I grabbed one out and said,"Twenty One,,black jack.",stuck it in my mouth then said "I better get more papers." as I went to look in the trash can to retrieve two empty Winston packs.Blowing the ashes off them I handed Mike one and grabbed a handfull of the spliffs from him.

I walked back to the little table,laid the pile of hooters down to light the one in my mouth and then started sliding them in the pack,counting as I did.Mike said,,"Ten."

"Eleven." and handed him the joint before I sat down.He took a hit,,then another and asked,,"Ya want something to drink?I'm gonna get a beer." while watching the smoke make little smoke signals as he spoke. "A glass of last nights mixer would be fine,,if there is any left." , "No beer?" , "Not now,,I'm gonna wait till we get to the beach before I start swilling."

"Okay,,I can have a beer,right?They're yours." , "Of course." after which he handed me the joint back and left the room shutting the door behind him.

Taking a hit off it I settled back into the chair to blow a few smoke rings across the landscape of the table.Thinking that looked pretty neat I took another and tried to lay down a series of smallish rings in quick succession like I was strafing the tabletop with a machine gun,,like a gangsters Thompson 45.

From right to left I shot a pretty good line of smokin' ohs,,slamming a couple into the flat table causing them to collapse in to a curling cloud rolling along it's surface,blasting the ash tray,,actually causing a few lighter ash motes to rise up and join the smokes convoluted currents,,then ending with one aimed at the handset setting on it's flat base like an odd shaped miniature art deco high rise.

The smoke ring seemed to flow around the phone about 2 inches away from it then disperse slower than normal into that space after a brief moment.

'Okay,' I thought to myself,,"That was odd." The memory of what I heard on the phone this morning came to mind.I took another big toke off the doob and shot a really thick smoke ring in the phones direction.Then a few more fast right after it.The smaller ones quickly overtook the big one and flew through its center in quick succession pulling the larger ones edges in behind them to form a swirling mass following their flight path toward the phone where they,,and it,encountered the same apparent barrier about two inches away from it,flowed around the smooth plastic without touching it then collapse as though the smoke broke through a weak membrane to move just a little slower than normal up against it..

Pulling another lung full of smoke out of the burning spliff I did another series just to watch the effect again,,it was neat looking.Like some kind of movie special effect.Watching the smoke curling around and above it I noticed an area of slower moving smoke inclined from around the upper portion,,not exactly from the antenna,,and stretch across the table to my right,,which was east.

The smoke moving around and then slowly through the space right in front of my face formed a shape which hinted at an old fashioned pipe for a moment,,then dissolved into what looked like cursive handwriting from an old ships log,,funny eff('f') shaped esses(s's) and all.

Swirling into a series of words,,the smoke read,"Don't worry about that,,it's just an anchor right now,,the fiend what was using it needs a new fetish to use it."

I asked aloud,,"They can't see like before?" which prompted the smoke to reform the fading whisps into the word,'nor hear' right before they dissolved as it all moved in a wavelike fashion.First it ducked a little to the left then rushed back to my right and Mike said as he closed the door with his foot,,"You did want some ice right?" After a heartbeat,,I responded with,,"Yeah,,that way it ain't so sweet once it melts a little."

Setting a glass of bubbling 7-Up on the table he sat down and took the three quarters gone doob I offered him while I said,"Thanks, Mike." , "No,,thank you." he said with a smile and started taking what looked like a big lung buster off the joint.

After a fairly long period of inhaling he finally stopped,handed the doob to me and held his hit in untill his face and neck began swelling and bulging,turning reddish and little 'chch-chtch' like sounds began popping out of him.Sorta like maybe a chicken imitating the sound of popping popcorn.About the time his eyes began to bulge a little,,he released the smoke along with a sound between a windy moan and a breezy groan close in pitch to one of the sounds of dying people in the dream I had woke up from not long before.

The angle he let it out at made it look like a fog rolling in as it flowed down under the 'odd zone' above the table,onto and across the table top.It's progress matched the rate at which the sound he unwittingly made slipped into my ears,,matched the resonances of the howling winds from my dream,,reverberated into my skull then spread through my body to pop out of my skin as goose bumps.

Trying to ignore them and focus on what I would rather pay more attention to right then,,,I took another bit of a hit off the joint,,handed it back to him then took several swallows off my soda before blowing my own out into the room to avoid making the 'odd zone' visible to him.I figured that since Hiram said it wasn't active now,,there was no need to have to explain it to Mike.And it was not something I felt my own mind wrapping easily around any way,,given time,,or need,,I could explain it later,,and even show it to him if need be.

We smoked the rest of the joint in silence,,the sounds we made doing so and drinking our beverages seemed to become louder and rather large in the quiet room.Eventually Mike looked at me,,obviously feeling the buzz from the rasta mans virgin bud,,and said to me in a kind of slow drawn out Tommy Chong,,seriously amazed sorta way,,"man,,it's really quiet in here." which didn't sound all that funny for a moment or so,,untill it struck us both how he had pegged Tommy Chong so good with out even trying,,I suppose,,or it was the intense high from the primo bud running through our skulls,,either way,,we cracked up like a couple of baboons.

After a few minutes,,probally of due to lack of oxygen,,while wiping our tearing eyes,,our laughter fest faded into the stage where it's liable to bubble up and overflow if we looked each other in the eye wrong.Although we tried hard,,that happened a couple of times until I remembered Dale and stood up while saying,,"We rolled,,so let's stroll to roll."

He said,"Okay." and stood up,,slowly.So slowly that I had time to pick up my glass of soda,,drain the liquid and start rattling it around before he was standing up straight enough to walk.Smiling he said,,"It's just Dale and I do think Amanda is with him so he won't be bored waiting or anything like that." and headed out of the room,,in an overtly casual manner.

Following behind him,,resisiting the urge to just straight arm him ahead of me at a faster pace,,I asked,,"Did he say his van couldn't go,,as in broken,,or stuck and couldn't get out?" He didn't respond untill he was stepping through the doorway into the hall,,"Just stuck,,I think.Amanda probally had him try to drive off into the woods to huggaroot,,or buggerherbutt in a ritual or something,,there is something seriously wrong with that girl." Leaving the words strung out behind him as I shut and locked the door he got around the corner and then said,,"She once told me there were little men with red feet living in the roots of a tree in her yard." as I stepped around him to take my glass in the kitchen to set it on the table.Grabbed a napkin off from the holder.And headed off while fishing a doob out of the pack of joints.

I had the spliff wrapped up in the napkin by the time I caught up to,,and stepped around him to get through the inner door well ahead of him he was saying,,"And to top it off,,she hinted like she had sex with a bunch of them or something." Flinging "Awww,,that's just wrong.She's gotta be demented,dude.Dale really should get off that tit." over my shoulder I paced down the front steps while letting the 'spleffster bunny egg' drop from my right hand.Noting out of the corner of my eye that it landed in an appropriately obscured yet visible if one looked position I smoothly continued my stride while asking him,,"Will you please shut,,and 'lock' the door behind ya Mike?"

As I was rounding the front of my cars hood he called out,"Do you have your key?,,I don't have mine." to which I replied with,,,"Duh,,lock the door Mike!" while shaking my key ring at him.

I had gotten in,,cranked the engine,,adjusted the radio down low to mute a commercial for something or other,,had the memory of the crone digging up the corpse make me think of Amanda having weird ritual sex in the woods next to a cemetary cause me to get goose bumps and a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and realize I had nothing to drink by the time he got in.

Not saying anything,,mainly due to actually not wanting to give the queesy sensation a chance to get any worse,,I simply devoted my attention to backing out and getting to the closest store to slake my cotton mouth.Not having to be concerned about an elderly type woman who might swat me upside my head made me feel a little sporty.Mike was just finding a song he wanted to hear,,War's 'Why Can't We Be Friends?',,by the time I pulled up to the front of the now,,absolutely clear,,non fogged windows of the 7-11.

Normaly,,that song gets me in an more upward frame of mind since I do like it but this time it sort of seemed to irk me like someone rubbed my backfur wrong.When Mike asked me if I would grab him a soda,,I felt no gripe type of feeling toward him yet after I said,"Sure,dude." and stepped out to see an old black fella dressed in an old fashioned styled tux sitting on the bench in front of the funeral home across the street,,I felt a strong urge develope deep down in me,,almost like a hunger,,to respond to the songs words with,,"Because you nasty,,that's why!"

Giving into it as I swung my door shut,,not even loud enough for Mike to hear over the music pumping out of the car speakers,,while not being able to remove my eyes off the old man,,I was extremely surprised to see him pick up his top hat,,yeah,,a top hat to match the suit,,gloves and cane that was laying on the bench next to him and walk quickly and abrubtly through the funeral homes doors,,his tux tails flapping behind him bringing to mind a rankled roosters flicking feathers.

My nagger broke his silence with,,'like thin lizzy says about the girls,,if he don't wanna know,,forgit 'im!' which actually tickled me to the point of chuckling slightly as I strode up to and through the doors.

Walking past the balding middle aged man behind the counter who had apparently been watching the same old man from his vantage point through the windows on the west wall allowing view of the pay phones and making a 'non blind' corner because looked at me and asked,,"Now there's a person that knows how to dress." to which I cheerfully responded with,,"That old funeral home dude sure dresses the part don't he?Right down to a tophat and cane." without pausing in my quest to moisten my sahara dry tongue with some sort of cold sweet elixer found in the coolers for which I and others often say,,"Oh,Thank Heaven for 7-11" having.

Quickly locating and grabbing an ice cold Mountain Dew for both I and Mike I returned to the counter and set them down in front of the guy whose eyes looked amazingly small behind the thick lenses of his black framed glasses.

As my nagger quipped something about 'mole people shouldn't be allowed out during the day,,or with out a keeper' which made me want to giggle since he not only had the mole eye look going on,,he had an almost grotesque growth of amazingly uniform,short,,almost looking trimmed,,greyish brown hair,,sort of like fur on the back of his hands,,his forearms and growing up his neck far enough to peek out from under the buttoned and tie wrapped collar of his sharp pressed button up stark white,spottless shirt.And he was all short and slumpy shouldered ta boot.

Thinking about that caused me to not understand the words that came out of his mouth so after I said,,"Sorry,,what?" his repeated question threw me for a loop,,"What old man in a tux?That was a brickhouse blonde in a skimpy dress making me want to be her friend in a real bad way just by looking at her."

Ignoring naggers,'you think he can actually see that far?' I asked him,,"What color of dress?All I seen was an old man in a black tux." and laid a five on the counter next to the two Dews.

Taking the bill and turning to reveal the furlike hair could be seen to apparently cover his back as well since it came up the middle of his neck and continued unbroken untill it turned into the slightly longer hair ringing the bald spot which was most of the poor guys head.

No longer funny,,since it seemed like that would be a situation I wouldn't like to live with,,I quickly and eagerly focused on his reply of "A mainly yellow floral print.Rather short,,and tight.Like if she was attending a funeral,,she was not too unhappy to be doing so." that came as he worked the register and fished in the now opened drawer.

"No old black dude in a tophat and tails,,with a cane?" Counting my change back first,,he answered with,,"Nope,,just a pretty chick I would like to be real friendly with." , " You didn't just not see him because she was absorbing all your attention?" , "Naw,,I don't think so anyway.I see her fairly often,,I think she has something to do with one of the mortitians.I was just cracking about the being happy to attend a funeral."

Sort of waving it off,,I asked him,,"Oh,,hey,,can ya get me a pack of Winston 100's and a pack of Zig-Zag rollin' papers?" while I put another five on the counter to which he said,"Yeah,sure." and turned to do so.He short tossed the cigarettes onto the counter and snagged the bill,rang it up then grabbed the papers to hand them and the change to me.Putting it in my pocket on top of the pervious tendered change I asked him,"Have you seen an old black man over there?"

He locked his myoptic eyes on mine and said,,"Not in the four years I've worked here." , "Four years?" , "Yeah." , "I've been coming in here for like all my life,,,I don't remember seeing you before." , "I don't know what to tell you,guy.I've been here that long.Working this same shift,,well,,after the first year when I was on nights,that is."

Saying,,"Okay,dude.I just don't recall seeing you before.Sorry." I picked up the cigs and papars,slid them in my shirt pocket, grabbed a bottle of Dew in each hand and headed toward the doors.Pushing the right hand door open with my foot then stepping through I called out over my shoulder,,"Have a good one,dude." and stepped out into the hot bright day.

Getting to my car I leaned in through the window and handed Mike a bottle through the strains of 'Cassidys Could It Be Magic' before getting in.After twisting off the top of my soda and taking a couple of big swallows,,while turning the radios volume all the way down,,I asked Mike,,"Did you hear what time it is?" , "No,,but I 'll go look real quick."

He hopped out,,bounded just close enough to the doors of the laundry mat to see the big clock on the back wall and came back just as quick.Sliding into the seat and shutting the door he said "Five after 12."

Sliding my closed Dew in my console holder I cranked my Buicks big block,glanced around,,turned my steering wheel hard to the right,,then backed up in an arc toward BoomBooms Sub Shop on the east end of the lot untill I was facing outward toward Rt#60.Mike reached over and turned the radio up as the first bars of 'Detroit Rock City' came over the fm airwaves.Pulling forward and allowing for a right turning car to have room to enter the lot I gauged the surprisingly light noon traffic for a safe moment while the tune plucked at my right foot.Reaching up with my right hand I grabbed my seatbelt,pulled it across my torso and clicked it locked.

Mark,,sensing my mood,,and seeing me put myseatbelt on,,braced himself in the bucket seat,grabbed for his seatbelt while saying,,"Well,,Bo,,there ain't no hills so I guess we gonna straighten some curves?"

Having allready spotted the space coming behind a west bound semi and before an east bound pick up,,I just looked at him with a smirky grin before returning my attention back to the traffic flow.

The moment I kicked the Skylark in the ribs I realized the truck coming from the west was a dark green Power Wagon and immediately ceased to pay it any attention as I was navigating the width of 60 with two plumes of hot tire rubber smoke billowing out from my rear wheel wells amid the sounds of roaring big bock and tortured tires.Aiming not for the entrance to 18th Street across and a little to the east of the 7-11's lot but rather for the entry to the empty parking lot of the building on that corner,,I shot across 60 at an angle,,hit the entry with a little hop and another which brought my front end up a tad when my rear wheels came down,,layed a double strip of tire mark across the parking spaces lining 18th street,,blasted out of the far exit point of the lot then slammed on the brakes before getting to the stop sign at the corner of 19th Place in front of that old style rooming house.

Having been looking for traffic before I stopped and seeing the coast was a clear as could be asked for I jabbed 'Sky' again and skittered across 19th at an angle to keep traveling down 18th which was set slightly to the east leaving another cloud of acrid blue smoke behind me.

At the next stop sign I quickly hung a left onto 19th Street and began idling east.Mike,,who was giggling and bouncing in his seat like a kid said,, "More,,more,,give me more.Do it again,dude."

Chuckling at him I looked north up 16th Avenue as we idled past the junior high to see if maybe Johns beater was there even though I did not expect it to be right now,,then glanced in my rearview to see if any green and whites popped out from either the north side roads or south from down 17th where the jail house was.

Seeing no one behind,,and no cruisers in the parking lot of the IRCS detectives offices I idled up to 14th Ave to sit at the stop sign in between Anthonys Rooming house on the south and The Super Dip on the north.Waiting for a few kids to cross in from the north to head to the junior,,and an old grey Chevy Nomad station wagon going south on 14th,,I turned the second half of Detroit Rock City up a bit more then gave the pedal just enough pressure just quick enough to make the Buick seem to shake it's rear a bit like a puppy happy for a treat for a fraction of a second before leaping across the intersection with barely a chirp being twisted from the tires by the positrac rear end.

Skitching to a stop on the slightly sand covered pavement at the corner of Old Dixie,,next to the Charelston across from Public Gas and the old hardware and garden store which was totaly devoid of traffic,,I power braked for a few seconds in order to fill the air with the smell of burning rubber before letting the horses under the hood loose to launch us into a curving take off south down Old Dixie.

Gauging traffic and watching for cops at the same time,,I pushed the rpms every chance I could.By the time the Kiss song ended I was blowing past Glendale,,and coming up on Mikes Towing lot where it tended to be dangerous considering his drivers habits of backing out onto Old Dixie with outlooking.Slowing down until I got to the old two story house with the big old oak in front of it sitting in the middle of the road frontage of the junkyards property and could see there was no one visible in any of the entrances along there,,I kicked it a bit to hop around the old man driving the red Chevy Luv we had came up behind as "I'm Back in the Saddle Again' replaced the tiny bit of silence at the end of the Kiss song.It was momentarily drowned totally out by the roar of the motor bouncing back at and around us off the old houses and then the wall of trees lining both sides of the road.

Mike reached out and turned it up as the open lot in between Old Dixie and the front of the old folks home between 4th Place and 4th Street came up on our left letting some engine rumble slack off in my ears enough to hear the music clearly.

Letting out a little whoop,,I gave the Buick some more fuel and held the reins on it to stay on the right side of the center lines on the asphalt as the old roads bumps and dips came along.

Coming up on 2nd Place a bright green VW bug pulled out to head south ahead of us.As Mike put his hands up on the dash to brace against a possible collision if I didn't brake soon enough I looked ahead of the bug along the road which angled slightly to the left as it crossed the canal.

Seeing it was 'clean and green',,I visualized the rails of the small concrete bridge as the edges of the vent for the Death Stars power core and I was Luke Skywalker in an X-wing fighter.Aiming straight at it and kicking my 'Skyrunner' in the ribs I took advantage of the angle of the road to accelerate past the VW and 'released the missile' which tracked just ahead of my 'fighters' nose untill it was sucked in a fraction of a second before I passed over it.

The bridge being a bit out of level with the road added to the 'imagination play' running through my head.It causing us to rise as though lifted by a powerful explosion right behind us prompted me to nudge 'Sky' in the right kidney to get ahead of the imaginary shock wave from a make believe Death Star exploding to smithereens behind us.

This got us past the church lot and coming up on where 6th Ave Sw peels off of Old Dixie at an angle to the south west in a couple of blinks so I 'engaged' the space brake slightly to safely dip into the gravity well and atmosphere of "The Planet of The Whispering Palms'.The 'birth planet' of the 'stalwart hero' and location of the 'lost compatriots',,fellow rebels and refugees from an Evil Empires nefarious desires.

My 'nagging robot' hooked into the back of my 'Skylark fighter' chimed in with melodious whistles and electronic beeble-blurbing to say,,'too bad that movie didn't have a soundtrack like this.' and started matching the lyrics rythyms and beats of Aerosmiths classic diddy while I slowed down to a stop at the stop sign of 2nd Street and lit a Winston before proceeding on up the hill to the old cemetary which was a major element of more than a few 'strange experiences' from my earlier childhood.

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Roy L. Harbin:The DANG - DInGIE American agrees with Robert Heinlein,,,'specialization is for insects'.And who want's to run with a pack of flea bitten butt sniffing mangey mutts when they can stay on the porch with the food and folks?
Hey,,you could run on over to and check out what I'm building over there.

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