The Block Party: Part 5

Donnie Iris and The Cruisers—“Ellwood City”

MoTW—“Leon The Professional”

I scampered into the garage and Spunky skedaddled over to his van as the
bus rolled down the street.

I plugged the clock radio in and tuned it to The Riff, a local rock
station, since I knew that people (especially the homeless ones) just
love that rock ‘n’ roll.

Next I shooed away the squirrels that were attacking the food that
couldn’t fit into the mini-fridge, but one my most welcomingest smile
and went back outside where I met up with Spunky, back from his van
where he had caked on some more of that hilarious clown makeup.

The bus pulled up to the end of the driveway, and the driver poked his
head out the window.

“Is this the place?”

“It sure is!” yelled Spunky while throwing cereal at the bus.

The driver”s head disappeared and then I heard him say,”Okay, everybody
off the bus!”

Spunky was jumping up and down with excitement as the bus began to
empty. The first person to walk around the front of the bus was a young
lady holding a clipboard, while behind her shuffled an assortment of
people I had only dreamed of having come over to my homestead.

Every nationality and color were represented. The only things they had
in common with each other was the shuffling walk and blank look in the
eyes, while a vast majority of them drooled.

Spunky stopped jumping up and down. “Retards? You invited retards? How
am I supposed to entertain retards?”

“These aren’t retards,” said the young lady as she walked up to us.
“Calling them retards would be quite a step up for them actually.”

“Worse then retards?” I asked, wondering if anyone noticed the awe in my
voice.

“Absolutely. Much, MUCH worse then retards,” she said. “These are people
who have met with various sorts of vicious head trauma which have made
them into something like walking vegetables.”

“Incredible,” murmured Spunky as I spastically nodded my head in
agreement.

The lady grabbed one of the shuffling people, a tall Asian man, one of
the few who wasn’t drooling.

“This is Darnell,” she said as the man tried to shuffle away. “He used
to work at a Toyota plant in Japan, but wasn’t the same after a car fell
on his head so they had to let him go.”

“A whole car?” asked Spunky.

“He’s from Japan and his name is Darnell?” I asked.

“Everyone here is in the same state as Darnell,” she continued, ignoring
both our questions. “Rock to the head, hammer to the head, bookcase to
the head, AB Lounge to the head……each different, but all with the
same after affect. It’s quite sad.”

“Any bobbleheads to the head?” I asked, thinking it was funny at the
time.

No answer from her, just a glare as she released Darnell who shuffled
away.

“What now?” asked Spunky. “I mean, I don’t know how I can entertain
walking vegetables what with their attention spans and all that. Know
what I mean?”

“No problem,” said the lady. “Just point me towards the petting zoo and
I’ll take it from there.”

“Petting zoo?” Spunky and I asked simultaneously as the bus pulled away.

COMING NEXT: The Block Party: Part 6

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