Too Funny to be Made Up
“You have to watch where you smoke at Dragon’s as he makes his own shells for his rifle” Steve told me and Chuck and Mountain Mike. We were just getting onto highway 18 in Federal Way. Of course we had all had plenty to smoke already and Chuck was being his usual self. That is to say that he was incoherent. Always on the lookout for members of the female type sex, we had just been talking shit about that very subject when what should appear at the C street exit in Auburn. No, not a furry little reindeer, but a female type person hitch hiking next to the sign prohibiting that very thing. Immediately Chuck and Mountain Mike got into an argument of who was getting into the back seat with her. Just to shut Chuck up, Mike let him have his way. You couldn’t see much of her in the rain with her large floppy hat and her big coat on. So as Chuck smugly opened the door for her to get into the rear seat we could see what he hadn’t been able to. She had a humongous swastika in the middle of her forehead and when she took her hat off she looked a lot like Casey Stengel. She announced her name with a Big Ben Davidson imitation, she said “hey guys ma name is Renegade” With the best yet to come, Chuck fell into a type of shock none of us had ever seen before. His face turned beet red, his eyes glossed over, and he grabbed for the Jim Beam like he needed to be rescued from a herd of maddened tigers. That’s when she took her coat off to reveal three hundred pounds of tattooed skin. I am straight up telling the truth when I say that all she had on was a black bra that was obviously fitted like she was trying to squeeze a pair of sourdough muffins into a Twinkies wrapper. Well; they didn’t have thongs in those days as we know them. Thank God for sma… err large favors. She had on some type of yellow bikini bottom with a pair of Uncle Sam men’s briefs underneath. Her legs looked like a mix between a Sasquatch and a ponderosa pine. They were HAIRY!! After a few belts of JB Chuck started grabbing poundage. While me, Mountain Mike, and Steve pounding beers Chuck was doing his skinny ass best to pound poundage. Renegade wanted to know if we wanted to stop in Newport Hills to pick up her girl friends, we told her we couldn’t because Mountain Mike was a diabetic and we had to get back to Lake Geneva as quickly as possible, we were just making a quick run for thai sticks. So of course the first thing we did was make a stop for whisky and cigarettes in Newport Hills.
Getting back onto I-90 we realized we had forgotten the smokes, no big deal unless someone chose to make it one. You know what happens next. Before we got to Dragon’s crib we stopped again for alcohol, lots of alcohol, again forgetting the cigarettes! . Dragon lived way back up this mountain road adjacent to Weyerhaeuser property. He protected his land with three dogs, one a great dane, the other two Chihuahuas. The dane was silent but deadly while the rodents were loud and helpless. When we finally got to Dragon’s he told us that his old lady had gone for cigarettes. Of course, Chuck being Chuck, decides that right now is the time that he just has to have a cigarette. He took out his last store bought smoke and stepped out side for a smoke and a pee. Immediately after the screen door shut an hellacious racket broke out and Chuck stumbled in through the back door. The Great Dane must have felt bad for Chuck as he started licking him all in his face. Now; that was funny. After calming downChuck saw some tobacco in a bowl on the coffee table so he proceeded to roll one up. With no one paying attention Chuck must have figured it was alright as long he didn’t get caught, he certainly didn’t want to tangle with the rats again, so he lit that sucker up. All of a sudden there was a sort of angry whispy sound and sparks flying in front of Chuck’s face, then it blew! Have you ever seen that cartoon where the cat has a bomb go off in his face? Picture that plus three hundred pounds of sizzling swastika.
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