Writings » Dirty Socks and Such

Dirty Socks and Such

By Buttermilk Baby at 2007-12-02 | Ridiculous!, Comedy, Fantasy | Printable version

            It all started at around six twenty one on a Tuesday.  I was sitting on my couch eating a pack of Rolo's.  The couch is covered with dog hair.  Regular Rolo's, not the spicy kind.  I do not have a dog either.  Just as everything was going good I dropped one on the floor.  I bent down to pick it up but was stopped by a knock at the door.

            I opened the door.  I was staring out at a beautiful red-head.  She was not a man.  Her mouth was made of solid gold like a movie star.  I welcomed her in.  Her green dress sparkled with the glow of a 40watt light bulb.  It was like looking at a gorgeous version of myself with breasts.  Right then and there I formed a plan to win her heart.  It was a tactical plan, very tricky in fact.  It was going to have to be pulled off with a surgeon's precision.  The plan is as follows, I was going to romance the hell out of her.

            I moved towards her with the grace of MC Hammer.  I was wearing socks only.  She smiled her lovely smile.  I slipped on that Rolo and stumbled forward busting my foot through the glass coffee table.  I fell into her, head- butting her in the stomach.  My leg was all cut up because of the glass.  I was a smooth operator, caressing her bruised abs like a honeydew ripe for the groping.  I am human produce.

            After massaging then rubbing, then more massaging and a little caressing she opened her mouth slightly.  I anticipated the words of this beauty.  Her hand blasts across my mouth and she says, "Stop!"  Not like a sexual harassment stop, more like a look both ways before you cross the street kind of stop.  Had my plan hit the wall?  I can't stop now, my coffee table is already ruined.  We sat there staring at each other for a good hour and twenty.  She hadn't yet stated why she had come to my home, I didn't care, I wanted her body like gangbusters.  Suddenly she spoke.  I'll never forget the sound of her voice.  If a voice could be described as a car hers would most definitely be a Hummer.  Not that H2 crap, the original, the Nazi Slayer.  What she said shocked me. And no, she was not

 

the future form of myself coming back in time to warn me about Lou Gerig's Disease.   It was far more disturbing.

            "I need you to destroy all the Jews in Cincinnati," that's what I wish she said.  It actually went more like this, "Someone stole my purse and I need a real badass to get it back for me.  But the men who stole it have guns, it's going to be dangerous," but I wasn't afraid.  I'd been hit with more hot lead than Nelly, Abraham Lincoln, Nagasaki, Hiroshima, and Ronald Reagan combined.  Yes, that's right, I have been shot before.  Twice.  One in the leg and one in the chops. 

            "Who are they?" I questioned, "And where can I find them?"

            "It's my old boyfriend, Czar Silver Tooth."  I was in trouble.  It just so happened that her boyfriend had the same name as the most powerful man in the world.  Or perhaps he is him in disguise, or maybe...  Her boyfriend was a very powerful man, a Czar in fact, the Czar of Indonesia Minor, a new country that had recently broken off from the mainland.  You might say the odds were stacked against me, but I didn't care.

            I spit on her neck and rejected.  Then I realized I wanted to spit and accept.  So I wiped the spit off with a GQ magazine, then apologized for the outburst.  "I would be honored to help you my fair lady." 

            And then in her rumbling voice she said, "Thanks, now stop touching my leg with your sock it's gross."

            I declined her counter offer (the sock thing) and said, "I'm on my way."  Two seconds later I was on a plane headed for Indonesia Minor, a dangerous land where animals walk on two legs and men do too.  There are no set laws, just Silver Tooth's word, whatever that may be.  I was packing an arsenal, hair brush and all.  I was going to go down in history as the man who ruined a country and that's all right with me.

  

PART THREE

His Name Was Rio Bravo

            I touched down at around seven thirty four, getting through airport security with all my gear was rough.  When the guards bent down to help the pregnant women I shoved I walked through the metal detector.  I hailed the first dusty cab that came my way.  "Take me to the castle," I demanded.  He raised his middle finger up to the glass.

            "Say please, American," he declared.

            "Please."

            "That's better."  He drove me to the base of the mountain the castle was perched on.  "This is it."

            "What?"

            "This is it, end of the line, get out of my cab."

            "You can't be serious, look how big that mountain is, how am I supposed to get up to the top?"  Just then he flicked his lit cigar at my face spilling ashes all down my chest burning me.  He ripped the four fifty out of my hand and peeled out.  He flipped me the bird in triumph as he drove into the sunset.  He was truly a great man, a savior to his people.  His name was Rio Bravo.

 

PART TWO

Silencing the Beast

            I began my path up the mountain.  I couldn't use the main road, because when I tried just a minute ago I kept getting hit by SUVs.  I had a goal and I was determined.  The climb was long, it could have been days it might have been minutes I don't know.   My knuckles started to blister, my back ached, it felt like there was a rock in my shoe.  There was a rock in my shoe.  I set up base camp under a Sebastian tree, I love the fruit those things kick out.

            After a minute or two I got bored and set off back up the mountain.  As the night grew darker the fog grew thicker.  I started hearing weird sounds like guns loading and stuff like that.  I brushed it off and said it was probably just the wind.  I reached a summit, not the summit, just a summit, one of many.  There was this gnarly cave about fifteen feet tall right in front of me.  I could hear this heavy breathing coming from inside it.  The breathing turned to growling, then the growling turned to crying but then quickly back to growling.  There was no time for questions, only time for action.

            I drew my longest, tallest, baddest knife.  I yelled, "Yo, if you want some of this then come on tough guy!"  The growling stopped.  "Just like I thought, you little son of a bitch." The beast charges from the cave and slams his shoulder into my mouth.  He's big, real big, like six feet or something.  He's wolf-like and ape-like all at once.  I stumble back onto my feet.  It was clear to me that he had a beef for some reason or another.  And I knew at that moment this was going to be the first of my many challenges.

 

PART FIVE

Onward You Mutts of Peace

            With the beast slain I continued up the mountain.  My injuries were few but serious.  I would need medical attention soon or would succumb to the woes of blood loss.  Just then I had a dogsled with seven or eight dogs that had been taking steroids and barbituates hand in hand for years.  They were like super holy canines.  "Onward you mutts of peace, onward."

 

PART FOUR

Silencing The Beast Again

            There I stood eye to eye with the great beast.  He was a menacing foe, I will not deny, but I was smarter, like Donny Osmond (without all the hair and drugs).  He swung his claw at me; I dodged it but got my chest ripped open anyway.  How this happened I don't understand.  I was bleeding badly, but once I smelled my own blood I went crazy.  I kept stabbing him with my knife again and again, in the face, the legs, everywhere.  He lay there dying, I was soaked in both our blood.  I hope I don't get monster AIDS or something.  He whispered his dying words into my eardrum gently, "I was once a man, Czar Silver Tooth did this to me, he made this terrible life for me.  A life full of pillage and plunder, murder and silent movies.  Please avenge me American, avenge me."  As the life left his body he did sign language for USA.  I will avenge him, he was great.

 

PART SIX

I Read This Book Called The Cay

            In my mind I named the fallen beast.  I call him Bunnicula, based on a book I read once, it was about a vampire rabbit and it was called Bunnicula.  I also read a book about a naked little boy and a black man on an island.  It was titled, The Cay, but everyone used to change the C to a G and make it say The Gay.  I thought it was funny back then, but not anymore, I am a grown man.  A true legend.

 

PART DUETSCH

Harry, I've Reached The Top

            Filled with adrenaline and an odd craving for something made of chocolate, like a side-ways rabbit or an egg of some kind, I had reached the top.  I steered the dogs towards the cliff, and just kept cracking the whip.  Onward! Avast!  Shiver my timbers you bitches, hoy!  I pushed them hard and fast, like you push a hooker on prom night.  As we reached the edge I did what any nobleman would, I leapt off the sleigh and let the dogs plummet.  My mother always taught me, reduce, reuse, and recycle.  I was planning on turning them into a kick-ass pair of boots later.

            Face to face with the castle I quoted a line from my favorite movie, and felt my newly opened chest cavity.  Bloody and bordering on unconsciousness, my courage had never been higher.  I tied a star spangled knee sock around my torso and pressed on, into the castle.

 

PART SEVEN

The Final Battle and Cholera

            The guards at the door had already slapped me not three or four, but seventeen times in protest to my entrance.  "But I was invited by the Czar himself, please let me in by the hairs on my chinny chin chin," I was losing my precious hemoglobin and slipping in and out of different folk tales.  When John Henry came up, I'd beat the steam off their hammers, but good.  "Look, you either let me in, or..."

            "You'll do what, American?" he laughed back in my face.

            "I'll, I'll, I, hmmm," I had some thinking to do; "I'll call upon the Power of the Mayflower and bury you where you stand."  We stared, eye to eye, until I began to weep uncontrollably.  Little did I know this was how you call upon the Power of the Mayflower, that or some kind of Zeus-shit.  A bolt of lighting struck him between the eyes and the only thing left was crispy potatoes au gratin.  "And you, tubby?" I questioned the other guard.  He stepped aside, but I struck his ass anyway.  Lightning, right up the sassy-seat.  Oh my, my language had become quite foul, it was years since I even thought the word, Sassy, and that was during my days in the Turkish Navy.  I was feeling rambunctious as hell.

 

PART EIGHT

Making Mix Tapes

I walked in on the Czar making a Bon Jovi mix tape, he was quite surprised.  Not because he was stark naked mind you, but because his secret Bon Jovi fascination had nearly driven the new country into the ground.  Massive funds were being transferred into something called, The "B.J." and up until now the Religious leaders thought it had something to do with oral sex, God knows why? 

"What are you doing in my Hind-Quarters?" Czar Silver Tooth pondered aloud.  I became rather flustered.

"Whoa, buddy, I ain't swinging on that branch.  I haven't put anything of mine in or near any man's hind-quarters," I belligerently threw back, "not now, not ever!"

"I see, you know the dark arts..." 'bitch lost me right there, but I played it cool.  I paced around him in a semi-circle, scraping my foot on the ground and snorting, like some kind of Jack Russell Terrier.  I even contemplated making some pigeon noises, but the pacing had already done its job.  "Speak! Why have you come in my Hind-Quarters?"

"Holy Hell dude, you just don't get it, I'm not gay!  I haven't done anything like that in yours or any guy's hind-nothing, okay?" I forced back.

"What are you talking about?"

"No, what are you talking about?"  We were both confused.  The man was like a chess master, cutting me down, moves in advance.

Again, he spoke, questioning one final time, "Why, are you, here?"  We were finally on the same page, but if he tried bringing this back to his ass again, I'd give him a fat lip.  As I opened my mouth to speak, for the life of me I couldn't figure out why I was here.  I had forgotten.  My mind was cold and clammy, like a hooker's hands on prom night.  We had such sweet memories of that prom.

 

PART AWESOME

Henry Rollins

Since I had no idea why I was there, and my rent was due, and I had no real way of paying it, I decided to crash with the Czar for a little while.  Our shared love of Bon Jovi drove our friendship from merely blossoming, to straight up awesoming!  We stayed up all night reading issues of Vanity Fair from 1986.  We made four more Bon Jovi mixes before falling asleep on our stomachs side by side.  He almost killed me when I suggested adding a Henry Rollins bonus track on side B of one of the tapes.  I was finally home.

 

PART TEN

Tape 3: With The Hair of a God

Side A

Runaway

Let it Rock

Never Say Goodbye

Livin' on a Prayer

Side B

I'll Be There For You

Wanted Dead or Alive

You Give Love a Bad Name