The 2009 Roadtrip: Part 9

Devin Townsend Project—Addicted

MoTW—The Deadly Spawn

(Contrary to popular belief, I did not build a time machine and warp
myself to the next day. The last time listed on the last part 8 of the
Roadtrip [tm] opus was listed wrong, possibly due to my drunken state.
If you don't know what I'm talking about, go fuck yourself since you
obviously haven't been keeping up.)

6:45 pm: I've made my decision. I might as well go and rescue the woman.

6:48 pm: I call a taxi to take me to the meeting place: 7-11 on
Bloomfield Avenue. Yeah, you know the place.

7:30 pm: Arrive at 7-11. There's a bunch of men in dark suits roaming
around the parking lot. In the middle of the lot is something that looks
like a gallow. Hanging upside down from the top beam is the woman and
she doesn't look too happy.

7:35 pm: I ask her how she's doing, if she wants something to drink,
etc., etc. She's not really receptive.

7:38 pm: One of the suits sees me and comes over. He starts by telling
me how much of a fan he is. I offer to sign something for him, but he
had neither a pen or something to write on. Then he tells me the reason
why I was currently in such a predicament.

It seems that when I lived in town those many, many years ago, I signed
up for a mission. A mission to go down river and take out (with extreme
prejudice) someone who had gone totally off the deep end.

During one of the stops on our journey, I hooked up with a dancer.
Instead of completing the mission I hooked up with the dancer and
disappeared.

They tried hunting me down, but I was in some remote place fighting off
giant bugs and every operative they sent to nab me was killed off. Then
the war ended when it was discovered that the bugs had feelings and
everybody was happy and the world was a happy place again.

They were really close to getting me again when they found out I was a
chauffeur for this really racist and bitchy older woman but then these
giant ships came from outer space and the aliens said they were peaceful
and wanted to be out friends which was a complete lie.

So, instead of picking me up, the suits had to fight off the evil alien
horde. When that was all done they found me again playing baseball. I
was a star because I had a magic bat. Again they came close but the team
was sent to Japan to play their allstars and all sort of whacky hijinks
(of the culture-clash variety) ensued.

I then retired and moved to Nebraska and they figured I would just rot
and die there so they left me alone.

And then I came back to New Jersey and old wounds were opened up and
that's why I was standing in the middle of a 7-11 parking lot.

8:30 pm: I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about and
that his story sounded like a movie.

8:31 pm: Guess I made sense since he apologised and the woman was
lowered to the ground. The gallows came down and all the suits left.

8:45 pm: Offered to get the woman a refreshing drink but she refused
again. She did take my wallet and drove off, leaving me cold and alone.

11:25 pm: Finally made it back to the hotel. Though I could make some
extra cash by offering myself to folks driving by while on my journey
back, but nobody was interested. Probably because I'm too pretty.

11:30 pm: The woman tells me we're leaving the next day, early.

11:45 pm: TV is on, "Silver Spoons" is playing and I drift off to sleep.

COMING NEXT: The end

Stephen Johnson

The idea of building a website with Bob came from Stephen in the days of message boards and chat rooms. We settled on the name TheWeirdcrap.com and the rest is history. Retired since he hit the ripe age of 25, he spends most his time doing odd-jobs around the house and digging thru trash bins for "stuff that's still good." Stephen has contributed several short stories and hosted the "Lunatic Ravings" column since the beggining. The idea of writing weekly columns (blogs didn't exist yet) also came from Stephen. So I guess that makes him the creator of the "blog" phenomena.

https://theweirdcrap.com

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