Th' night was alit wif fireflies an' skeeters. It was "Home Comin'" fo' th' town's tobaccy spittin' team, dawgone it. Th' coon houn's were howlin' at yaller moon an' ah was warin' co'ndoms on mah feet t'keep them dry."
"Ah purchased th' co'ndoms at a Goodwill Sto'e an' ma patched up th' holes in them af'er she hung them on th' clo'esline t'drip."
Jest one week ago th' veterinarian had installed one of them ereptile implants in mah scrootom along wif an innertube air valve t'pump me up. He threw in a bicycle tire air pump t'save me a dollar.
It was just one of those stupid things that occasionally show up as a blip on the Doppler. It seems as if a herd of zombies was migrating toward our community. "A herd is usually a hoofed bein' an' ah had no idea eff'n a zombie wore shoes." Zombies were seasonable and a nuisance like an allergy.
Off in the distance, one could hear them coming. The ground trembling like t thunder as the Energizer Bunny banged the damn drum.
It is not mah fust rodeo wif zombies. They are obnoxious, pickin' at their nose in public. "It's a dadburn shame thet th' A&W sarves them,...
I was leaning against the fence post and smoking rolled cabbage. Singing. "Don't set unner th' apple tree wif ennyone else but me ennyone else but me, ennyone else but me..." Lugosi was cleaning his toenails and applying lipstick. He was incognito.
"This hyar ain't Cognito. Its Tidbit. Arkansas. Yer as sharp as a bowlin' ball an' fo' fineness sakes remove them silly ass dentures. Ack refined an' suave like ah trained yo'.
"Vampire Chicken: (n) Marked by th' need t'ingist po'n an' avoid sunlight. 2. Prey on others fo' choomp change an' gain. 3. Trimenjus pain in th'...
Just returned from delivering a load of horse apples on the back of the golf cart. "A Cool Whip cream'mashun was this hyar year's rage. Delivahed all bundled up in a Doredash van?"
It was here at the chicken ranch/cemetery that I met my new patrol partner. Lugosi. A genuine vampire chicken. Mid-morning, Lugosi was wearing aviator sunglasses and pecking. Trying to raise the dead. His last job was as a salesman at a Mercedes-Benz dealership in Little Rock.
Something was odd at the cemetery, and horse apples made for good fertilizer. Seems that no one was...
After blowing up the septic tank and ridding it of piranhas, we found pa chawing on a plug of bacci. His left arm was in a pickle jar waiting for the taxidermist to reattach, after his right knee cap. I got my job back at the trailer park but they took the taser from me and replaced it with a dower rod with an extended barrel,
The blast had left me partly deaf and partly not hearing a thing. Now with new hearing aids, Eunice and I were going to spend the weekend in Little Rock. I had leased a golf cart to drive the twenty-two miles from Tidbit. It had a supercharged Evinrude out...
Alexander watched through the glass of his cubicle as the people moved around the store. Sometimes people would stop at his cubicle and look in at him. They would smile at him and tap on the glass of his cubicle, sometimes talking to him. “What a cute Persian cat!” some would say. “Orange, almost a fire orange!” Then they would walk away. Alexander could not hear what they were saying to him from inside the cubicle of course, separated from the people by the glass but he knew that they were talking to him. He would...
I had just blown a crater in the backyard large enough to swallow ma and pa's retirement home. It was only one stick of dynamite to rid the septic tank of piranhas.
The blast could be heard in downtown Little Rock which was twenty-two miles away as the crow flew. When all the dust settled in the trailer park, it looked like Pompei. Ma was pissed because it interrupted her favorite TV show. The Price Is Right. We are still looking for Pa. We did locate his catheter that he recently got out of pawn. Is toupee, turned out to be an armadillo with the mange.
In my early years between Puberty and Imbred Arkansas I was gitten my edumacation like any utter humin being. I even had a stencil pitcher of Jethro Bodine on my nappies.
"Th' sto'y yer about t'hear is true. Herky Swink: This hyar is th' city. Tidbit, Arkansas. Ah wawk hyar, ah's a security gard."
I came of age at 56. Between a fried bologna sandwich and being mooned by a Rhode Island Red chicken. Having just finished my fifth year of culinary school at the Waffle House. I gradumarated summa cum laude and thought that summa didn't begin until June. Then I took a...
He coughs, clears his throat. ‘As I see it, we have two options. The best thing would be going to the police. But if we did…well, think about it. You wouldn’t want to be driven out, would you? You’re innocent in all this.’
Journalists surrounding them. Cameramen chasing them to the car. A woman with a mop of unkempt grey hair snarling that she hopes they all rot, spittle flying from her lips. Afterwards, they return to the village - to the whispers, the sniggers, the social isolation.
Where have all the lemmings gone? Jumping into a shadow of echo madness. Landing on their feet in my poetic opus, of dark aspic and creation. Listening to the clock's pendulum whispering my name. Swinging like an anvil crashing into my pain. But it's, Showtime folks! Crossing the meridian attached to strings. Riding my Pokey into the sunset of my toy's chest. Greeted by the Jack-in-the-box of twilight and Alka-seltzer. Remembering the relish of the leaves mulch and the odor drifting through the screen door. As insomnia rains down, forgetting to call mama