Sunday, September 26, 2010

cider and the slyairy temple

Cider drove past 12 interstate highways before he got to his favorite rest stop on the planet: 006s05-BYEBYE.
He liked it because the air was thick and smelled like bratwursts. His only trew love. In the rest stop on planet  006s05-BYEBYE (aptly named BUY BUY BRATS) there was a large karaoke hall that Cider enjoyed sitting in. So he sat down.
The dancers on stage flickered hot lights in and out of Cider's vision. They were ghosts, they were machines. All the lights in the karaoke hall were yellow and red, and Cider would always think, as he sat down with a big bottle of Malibu on the rocks, "I feel as if I'm sitting inside a jello mold".
Sometimes Cider would even say these words if he got juiced enough. He'd speak it out to the bartender or the waitress who'd come back to check on him periodically. She was a blondie and always remembered to bring Cider fresh ice, 'cause he'd grind the cubes up in his teeth and gnaw them and munch them and let the water slide down the back of his throat like a waterslide and he'd chirp and gargle like a little baby.
That's what he liked: that cold water deep throat.

Cider wasn't too buzzed yet on account of he just sat down with his bottle. Blondie came over with a bucket of cubes and set em down. She put her leg up on the chair next to him and leaned over with her titties pressed together and her lips pressed together and her eyelash batting and flitting around sending 20 ton palpitations through Cider's body. Cider wasn't much into girls, though.

  "'Kay, so like, 'ya wanna sing a song this time?"

Cider smiled a shy smile and looked down at his hooves and shook his head.

  "C'mon, Cider..." she was chewing gum "'ya always sit here and 'ya never sing or say a word. What's the deal? Think about it and I'll go get yer brats."

She fluffed the hair on his mane before she walked away.
Cider watched her walk back with the tray of fat weiners. Her hemline was flopping as she stepped and her panties must have been riding up cause she picked a wedgie before she set the brats on the table.

  "Well, what about it?"

Cider took a gulp of Malibu, rubbed his hooves on the table in anticipation, looked up at the blondie with smiling eyes, and said,

  "I feel as if I'm sitting inside of a jello mold."

The waitress made one of those sounds, and walked away.
The lights flashed in Cider's eyes. He sucked at those brats and slid ice down his throat for about another hour. The only one in the joint at 2pm on a Tuesday.
The phone rang and it was Bingo. Blondie came strutting up to Cider, who was nearly passed out from all the drink.

 "Phone's for you, Ciiiiderrrrr."

She set it on the table and walked away.

  "yeahimmlmmmh itsssyder."

Drunk.

  "BimBamBoom it's Bingo. I need 'ya help, man. C'mon."

  "whadufyg sssgaysd? Binglkjoooo? I sdaugm johknoo how tno one   buuuusmisleeeelf"

  "Cider, I'ma come pick you up, man. You're in no shape, dude."

Cider put the phone down. He slammed it so that the table bukcled like a fat slab of rubber and wiggle-jiggled back into place. Jello mold.
Cider got up and pushed himself with his front two hooves until he got his balance. Blondie walked over to get the phone and clear his things. Cider licked her on the neck, dropped some money on his dirty brat plate, and left mumbling incoherently. Blondie waitress waved goodbye and shook her head, counting out the bills. He left way too much.

Cider pushed open the glass doors of BUY BUY BRATS and took himself out onto the blacktop parking lot where hardly a car was parked. He got a little dizzy and began walking on all fours to keep his balance. This happened often.
Bingo's car pulled up right in front of Cider. It was black. It had one red double stripe around it. It may as well have been a zebra polka dot. What's black and white and red all over?
The car hummed like a big old robot and the windows were tinted so dark that it was impossible to see inside. Like a dirty river. Like a dirty pond.
Bingo got out and pulled Cider into the passengers seat. Cider didn't put up much of a fight, as he didn't really know what was going on.
Bingo looked big and tall like he could eat Cider in a bite, but it was only because Cider was down on the ground looking up at him.

Once they were both in the car, Bingo took off, speed of light, windows rolled down low, beats cranked up high. A real party car. Party machine. Party animal.
Cider had some water from a bottle in the car to help him sober up a little. The air helped too.
Neither of them spoke to each other, but it wouldn't have mattered because of how loud the music was. No worries, they were old friends back then. "I need your help fixing something" Bingo would have said. Instead he waited until they got back to his house after crossing a bunch of highways and boundaries and bright orange and bright yellow and bright pink, and bright green and blue. And some bright purple, also.

  "I need your help fixing something" Bingo said as they got out of the car.

The was air like a suburb there, with trees and birds and all.

  "O-K." said Cider, and he got out.

Bingo walked in through the garage and called in to his wifey,

  "Hey hon, make Cider some coffee. Strong."

Too bad Cider hates coffee. Bingo made him drink it, anyway.

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