By Jeff Baker
“First of all, I never liked the guy, y’know? Not that Skuller’s name was a turn-off. No, he was the turn-off. No manners, no class, no job. He was kind of cute, and he was collecting tattoos which looked kinda hot, but he wasn’t the kind of guy a girl wanted to be with, y’know? At least, not this girl. Anyway, one night, yes that night he pulls up in front of the house right before dinner and starts honking the horn on whatever car he’d stolen. He waves this sign out the window that says Let’s Get Lost and opens the passenger door, y’know for me to get in with him? So, I tell him to get lost himself, y’know? Skuller gets pissed and roars off, giving me the bird out the driver’s side window. So, anyway, the next morning we hear the news on the radio (just before the weather and all the local kid’s birthdays) that some lunatic tried to drive through a liquor store but clipped a fire hydrant and flipped over and burst into flames, probably because he’d been tampering with the gas tank. Skuller, of course. Anyway, it was no surprise and no big loss but the day after his funeral there’s this honking in front of the house (right around dinner again) and who do you think is there but Skuller. Same car, looking singed and his face looks like he’s made up to play in a cheap zombie movie. Well, my Dad gets mad but not half as mad as I was when he waves that same stupid sign in my face and I’m on the verge of telling him to get lost again and that I don’t have any desire to re-enact one of those lame old teenage tragedy songs, and certainly not with him. By this time my little brother comes up and suggests I say ‘Skuller’ three times (he loves those kind of movies) and them my Dad suggests that he go to Hell and Skuller just laughs and says something about Hell not wanting him. So I tell him I don’t want him either and Skuller just looks at me funny and drives off. And I ought to tell you that was the last I ever saw of him but we see each other now and then, usually when I have to work late and I pass Main Street downtown where the kids race each other and sometimes Skuller roars through scaring them all. Y’know, now that I think of it, Skuller wasn’t even the worst boy who wanted to take me out, there was the Renaldo kid, remember him? But enough about me, what’s all this about you and this big shot from Kansas City?”
Fantastic! I love this kind of stream of consciousness writing.
Thanks! I just wrote it all in one sitting! I guess I imagined Fran Drescher (or maybe Laverne and Shirley) saying it!