Deep Within the Spooky Realm of Suburbia
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 46697
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So that keeps him busy for like oh, two naughty hours or so. But the
party comes to an end when that old man, the one who lives in the faded
yellow-brick house with the diseased, half-crazed dog tied to the proud
stump that was once a prouder tree and the brown, tick-infested grass
that hasn’t seen a mowing since a Federalist
was in the White House - chases him away with a shotgun in one hand and
a revolver in the other. Suburban folks are so cranky at night. By this God-forsaken hour some dark, wispy clouds are forming overhead, partly shrouding the eerie moon that’s sinking lower into the western sky. Somewhere two cats are fighting over a half-eaten and then carelessly discarded cheeseburger. Is there anything more tragic than a wasted cheeseburger? Shhh. Don’t answer. Just breathe. Josh kicks an old rusty can down into the shadowy alleyway between the 7-11 and the Subway restaurant, the place where his lungs have finally declared victory over his legs and he stops running. Well, he’s finally rid of Scott...but now what? He’d been living in Scott’s apartment. He never paid a dime towards rent. He hasn’t had a job in 6 months. He’s got no cash on him. Only a bus pass and some girls number he met 6 months ago. Actually he got that number the day he lost his job. Coincidently, that was the same day he decided he was a Buddhist. Well, should he call for another beam out? Nah, Scotty’s a drunk Scottish bastard who’s always getting hammered on the job. No telling where Josh will end up when that red-nosed fat-ass is at the controls. Or is he Irish? Hell, no one knows.Not even the Vulcans. Josh shrugs and makes for the 7-11. Inside the well-illuminated store there is a very arab man behind the counter, reading something. By very arab I mean he’s not only got a big white turban but also a matching scimitar by his side. He glowers at Josh suspiciously and sets aside his Al-Qaeda training manual. “Can I help you, hooligan?” the clerk asks.“You hiring?” Josh inquires hopefully. His bright, innocent eyes sparkle in the glorious glow of the florescent lights lining the ceiling. “I’m good with computers and I can work day or night or anytime you need me!” “Bah!” the clerk spits. “What hole did you drag yourself out of at this hour of the night to ask me such a question when the sun sleeps!? You are a hooligan! Go! Go away! Do not rob me, hooligan!”Josh wanders away from the 7-11 dejectedly. Eventually he curls up underneath someone’s porch and dreams of things we would never want to know about even in our wildest nightmares. The Next Morning...
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Lost Soldier
1/17/2005 7:54:25 PM
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