Archive for October, 2009

Episode 8: Ned’s Massive Mishap…

“After your done with your breakfast Bubba, I need you to come down here and dig out some boxes of 12 gauge, buckshot and slugs for these shotguns here,” Marty yells up the stairs.

“We had planned on going over to The Gator Shack to see if Bobby-Sue would give us a place for the night,” Darren says.

“No, boys you don’t wanna go over there to the Gator Shack at all, there was a bunch of Shriners headed to New Orleans, when all this shit went down.  It was not a good night for old Bobby-Sue.  She done got torn ta pieces and both her girls too.  After that those pricks done tore each other and all the cabins ta shit.  Fucking fez-wearing bastards,” Marty tells them.

From outside, they hear the sounds of a horn honking and then a gunshot.

“Pa, git up here someone’s coming!” Junior yells

They all three run up the stairs and then climb into the attic, from there they crouch down and hustle over to the trap-door leading to the roof.  It’s an overcast day, with thick black clouds threatening rain any second.  From the street out front they hear honking.  They all move to the front of the roof and are watching as a jeep pulls into sight.

“Hey, its fucking Ned,” Joey says.

“Oh joy, the gimp game-warden has arrived, hide the tail Judy!” Darren yells

The tire’s squeal as Ned dodges around a pair of wrecked cars and turns the jeep towards them only to smash suddenly into the back of Angie’s Pinto.  The Pinto gets crushed into the truck it was parked behind,  ned throws his jeep into reverse just as the pinto explodes into flames.  Ned yanks open the door and dives out rolling around to put himself out, even though he’s not on fire.  He stands up and raises his arms over his head cheering.  Joey and Darren raise their arms as well flipping him off.

“Hey guys check it out I almost died!” Ned yells up to them.

“Hey dumbshit, look out behind you!” Darren yells.

“What?” He asks slowly turning around as the horde engulfs him.

He is tackled to the ground with arms and fists flying pounding him over and over.

“Well, fuck those tickets he gave us then,” Darren says to Joey.

“Damn right,” Joey replies as they tear Ned’s body limb from limb on the street below.

“Angie is gonna shit a Twinkie when she sees her fucking car,” Junior exclaims.

“Let me see your lighter Darren,” Marty says.

Darren hands him his trusty gold plated Zippo with the naked lady engraved on it.  Nodding Marty bends over and pulls out two sticks of dynamite wrapped in electrical tape and lights the fuse.

“Holy shit!” Joey yells

Marty takes a step and then throws the bundle end over end, right onto the mass of pustulant flesh currently ripping Ned into tinier pieces.  The explosion is quite loud, shredded flesh and bits of Ned scatter outwards spraying gore on the surrounding cars and painting the street in a plume of red.

“Goodbye Ned, you were a cocksucker,” Joey says to the remnants below.

“Well grab up one of these rifles boys.  That sound is going to bring a shit-ton of those pus-buckets down on our fucking heads,” Marty tells them.

“Well, that was more fun then two girls with a  can of Dinty-Moore!” Joey yells

“Hey Junior, after we shoot all these fuckers can I please be the one to tell Angie that her Pinto is now a smouldering shit-stain?” Darren asks.

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Episode 7: Bartering for Bullets…..

October 18, 2009 1 comment

After breakfast Judy shoos everyone out of her kitchen, Marty, Junior, Darren and Joey all go down into the gun shop.

“Junior get up on the roof and have a look-see, holler down if you see anyone, these boys need to get their shit outta the car, and tell Bubba to come down offa there and get some breakfast,” Marty says.

Junior takes off up stairs heading for the attic and then the roof.  Marty unlocks the front door again and Darren goes outside and opens the passenger side door of the limo.  Reaching in, he grabs up the two shotguns and his duffle-bag from behind the seat.  Joey follows him put and getting in the back of the limo, grabs up a hefty bag of cigarettes and another of snacks and chips.  Turning he kicks the door closed and nods to Darren and then goes back inside.  Darren hits the power-lock switch on the door and  goes back into the shop.

“Let me see what you boys got there,” Marty says stepping behind the counter.

Darren sets the Mossberg 590 and the Remington 870 on the counter and sets his duffle-bag on the floor.  He unzips the bag and pulls out their last box of birdshot and a colt .45 automatic, both of which he puts on the counter.  Popping the clip out of the .45

“I’ve got four shots left in her, and around 7 total shells left for the shotguns,” Darren says.

“What about that pimp’s .38 man, that little purty fella,” Joey reminds Darren.

“Oh, yeah I forgot about that little guy,” Darren says pulling a snub-nose .38 from the cargo pocket on his pant’s leg.

“Well, let’s do some business,”Marty says.

“Ok, first off I noticed that Judy up there, after breakfast was rolling her last cigarette out of her tin of Bugler.  So let’s talk tobacco Marty,” Joey says.

“Oh, hell did you boys get some real cigarettes? Oh guys, that would get me back in on easy street for some real smokes,” Marty replies.

“And we know you like your chaw Marty, we may have a pouch of two,” Darren says.

“Now look guys, you can plainly see, that I have here more bullets and guns then I could ever shoot. We have all three been friends a very long time.  I will help you boys out. I got plenty of shells both buckshot and slugs for those gun, we just have to agree on a price,” Marty tells them.

“Mighty kind of you Marty and we brought you something too,” Joey says digging around in one of the hefty bags.

“Oh yeah?” Marty asks.

“Yeah, see I remember last Christmas, see ole Judy up there was happy with all the stuff you got her, but when she busted open her stocking and saw those candy bars well, didn’t her eyes light right up,” Joey says.

“Oh guys, did you bring chocolate?” Marty asks?

“Oh no, not just chocolate Marty, oh no… We got a whole display box of her fucking favorite,” Darren say as Joey pulls out a whole display box of 5th Avenue bars.

“Oh well fuck me running.  What would you boys say to a pair of 9’s each?” Marty asks.

“You know I’d take that Taurus Judge instead of a 9,” Darren replies.

“Your on, and I will throw in five boxes of buckshot for that mother too,” Marty tells him.

“Life is sweet Marty,”  Joey says, “Didn’t that retard say, life is like a box of chocolates.”

“Yeah well a wife with a whole fucking box of chocolate is sweeter,” Marty says.

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Episode 6: Blackout’s Gun Shop…

October 18, 2009 1 comment

They turn from the closed door, and find themselves in the main room of the gun store.  From upstairs floats down the sweet smell of cooking bacon, which combines with the heady aroma of gun oil and gunpowder. Over both of those smells though is the delicate and invigorating scent of fresh brewing coffee.

“Wow, it smells like heaven in here,” Joey says.

“Yeah, I can taste the bacon already,” Darren replies.

“This is my brother-in-law, Bubba, of course you guys know my wife Judy.  This is my son Junior and his girlfriend Angie.” Marty saying waving his arm indicating the people in the room.

Angie glares at Darren.

“This is Chevelle, and this here is Candy,” Joey says pointing out each girl.

“A couple of friends, we found along the way,” Darren says, “Two good ole girls you can always count on with a can of Dinty-Moore.”

Angie continues to stare daggers at Darren, who happily looks around the room.

“Whats cooking smells like bacon, we brought in around 17 pounds of gator tail if you want add that to breakfast, for some buckshot shells Marty,” Darren says.

“Fine by me, let’s see thats 17 pounds how’s 5 boxes of shells sound for that, and another 3 for a 12 pack of that Busch,” Marty replies.

“Sounds good to me, let’s eat,”Joey says.

Judy motions them to follow her, and leads the way up the stairs at the back of the room, between the end of the display case, and a door covered in ammunition posters.  The stairs old, wooden and creaky on either side are more gun and ammo posters along with a few choice Ammo-girl-of-the-month calenders.  At the top of the stairs, Judy rushes through a side door in the living room.

“Oh, smells like my bacon is burning,” She says as she disappears into the kitchen.

The giant flat screen tv on the wall to the left of the stairs shows multiple camera views of the outside of the store. The stereo on the shelf below the TV, is playing a very quiet Lynyrd Skynryd song, and beyond the shelf is an easy chair. Opposite the TV is a sectional couch that has seen better days, several of the cushions are torn and the whole thing is covered in newspapers and empty chip bags.  Junior sits down at the coffee table in the center of the couch and begins to finish re-assembling the AR-15 that is sitting dismantled on newspapers.  Angie goes and sits beside him and whispers something in his ear as he begins putting the gun back together.  Darren and Joey follow Judy into the kitchen and Darren sets the coolers of gator on an old vinyl and metal-framed chair.  Joey opens the fridge up and begins loading in the beer.

Judy begins turning the bacon with a spatula, “How have you boys been I have not seen either of you in over a month.”

“We were out at our hunting shack in the swamp trying to bag some gator, I got laid off from the refinery and Joey here decided to take a break from his offshore job to join me,” Darren says, “Here  give me a knife and I will cut us some slices of tail for breakfast.”

“Here you go,” she says handing him a knife.

In the other room they hear whispering and then.

“Have a seat ladies we will bring out some breakfast for everyone here in a few,” Marty says.

Marty walks into the kitchen and sits down beside Darren.

“So boys, did you like my little neighborhood decorations, on your way in?” Marty asks.

“Uhm, yeah man, that was horrifying, here have a beer and maybe let us know what your game is?” Joey says handing Marty and Darren beers.

“Well I decided that all of these rednecks wanting to come in here and take my guns, were going to need stronger persuading then just yelling out the door.  You see boys, we’ve had at least 25 groups of idiots wanting to come in here guns blazing to get some ammo and loot my fucking store,” Marty says shaking his head, “These boys were convinced that I should open my doors and just let them do whatever they as they pleased with my shit.”

“Had to teach them a lesson didn’t ya baby,” Judy says.

“You bet I fucking did. The few guys who came up asking nice and wanting to trade, well sure I helped them out just as nice as you please. But… This is a business, when you get it in your head to come-up and try to rob a gun store, you’ve gotta get a bit of a wake up call.  You see for some reason these people didn’t seem to think I would really shoot them all where they stood.  They were dead wrong,” Marty said.

“You do gotta be a dumb son-of-a-bitch to just go thinking you could walk up and take guns from a man who owns a gun shop. Now I will give ya that there are alot of dumb sum-bitches out there but that 8 kinds-a-stupid,” Darren says.

“Your fucking A right about that man, thats why I nailed up all those little yard ornaments, like those tiny funny little gnomes Judy likes from the garden store,” Marty says.

“Well Marty that’s why we rolled up nice and slow see, we come bearing gifts for trade,” Darren says.

“Also we got some chips and such out in the limo if you would be willing to part with some more guns,” Joey says.

“Chips? Fer guns? I dunno about that…” Marty says.

Joey pulls out a full-pouch of Red-man and slaps it on the table between them.  Then looks Marty in the eye.

“We might have a few other things to trade as well…maybe..” Joey says.

“Well… Now your fucking talking son,” Marty says.

Joey nods and slides it over to Marty who grins like a cat.  Joey stands up and grabs two cups and fills them with coffee he goes out into the living room and hands them to the girls with a nod.  Walking back in he notices Junior and Angie whispering still.  The pouch of Red-Man is still sitting on the table as he sits down again.  Judy begins taking bacon off the skillet and putting the slices of gator on.  Humming to herself she pops open the flip-top of her bottle of King Cajun Blackened Spices and begins to shake some on.  As the tail begins to cook all three men smile in appreciation.

Several minutes later Joey walks out of the kitchen and hands the girls a plate of grits, bacon and tail. He nods at them and walks back into the kitchen.

“I am sorry there’s no eggs boys, its been hell living like this,” Judy says.

Darren begins eating a piece of bacon and looks up as Angie walks into the kitchen.  Her plate is clean except for the slice of gator tail which is un-touched.  She glares at Darren as she sets the plate down in front of him.

“No thanks, I ain’t eating no food he brings in here,” Angie says.

“You’ve had a bug up your ass since they came in here Angie, whats your trouble?” Marty asks.

“Ask HIM!” She says pointing at Darren

Everyone turns to look at Darren who with a  mouthfull of bacon looks up.

“What?” he asks.

“You know what, fucker,” she says.

Darren looks around the room and then looks back at Angie.

“I really don’t understand why your mad at me…. Well there was that piece of shit you called an omelet, that actually tasted like sour pigs you brought to my table at Benny’s dinner last month. Is that what your on about?” Darren asks.

“You mother fucker, you know damn good and well I don’t cook that shit, I am the goddamn waitress and I just bring the fucking food out, why the fuck did you have to go on and on yelling at me about how shitty it was when I had nothing what-so-ever to do with it,” She says dripping venom.

“Hey you got my dander up, insisting that I eat something that tasted like roadkill that’s been sitting in the sun for a week of Sundays,” Darren says.

“Why take it out on me though? Did you honestly think I cooked that plate of food?” she asks.

“Well who else am I going to tell? I ain’t saying I was mad at you, you just kept telling me ta eat it,” Darren says.

“There will be no more of this shit at my table, Angie go sit the fuck down, and Darren clam it up boy,” Judy says.

Darren starts to raise his hand looking at Angie and just as he opens his mouth, Judy pulls a taser from her apron pocket and points it an inch from Darren’s face.

“Now, I know you weren’t about to say something stupid were ya?” She asks, then glances at Angie, “And you go sit your ass back down out there.”

Joey and Marty glance at each other smiling and continue eating.  As Angie walks back into the living room Junior says.

“I told you not to say nothing.  It was over a month ago and no one gives no fuck.”

“Shut the fuck up Junior,” Angie says.

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Episode 5: Gibson, It Aint Mayberry…

October 13, 2009 2 comments

The town of Gibson, as they drove through, was full of two things as far as they could tell. Empty houses and bodies nailed to them.  Some of them only had one in the front yard on a spike but others had the added decoration of one mounted and or nailed to the roof. The roads were a collection of wonderfully funny car wrecks, each splattered with blood and gore.  The limo weaved through the wrecks and the boys laughed it up. The girls however didn’t find it nearly as funny as they did.

“Are you fucking serious? look at this place. You really want to stop here for the night?” Candy asks.

“This does seem like a colossally bad idea,” Chevelle said.

“Well I don’t think so, we know some folks that live here. There is a nice place just up the road a bit where we could bed up, watch some gators and BBQ the tail we have in the trunk.  Cause Wham-Whams, and Zing-Zings just don’t cut it. Also I don’t eat Dinty-Moore,” Darren said.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Joey asks.

“Hear what?” Darren asks.

From the distance they could hear screaming.  Echoing through the houses around them. They come around a corner to an intersection, where a piggly wiggly sits to their right and a gas station is across the road.  In the parking lot of the grocery store a group of men have something on the ground and they are hitting it over and over.

“Well Joey head on over there, let’s see what is going on,” Darren said.

“Bad IDEA,” Candy says.

Joey pulls the limo into the parking lot and as they pull up, several of the men turn and charge the limo.  They immediately start pounding on the hood.  Their faces are red with huge puss oozing-sores and they screaming incoherently.

‘Ok, Candy’s right were outta here,” Joey says throwing the limo in reverse.

As they back away Darren rolls down his window and shoots one in the face with his shotgun.  The blast peels the skin off his head like an orange.  The pus-filled sores explode launching blood, pus, and bone fragments everywhere and the force spins him to the ground.

“Damn this bird shot is  for the birds man, we need some better ammo,” Darren said.

Pumping the slide to chamber another round Darren sticks a fresh shell into the tube.  He then shoots another one in the neck as they turn to get back on the road.  The shot blasts the man’s face and neck shredding his skin and leaving ragged holes in his flesh. Joey throws the limo into drive once more and then punches it.

They race away and get about halfway across town and Joey wrenches the wheel to the left.  At the end of the block before them a large sign declares the building to be Blackout’s Gun Shop. Out front of the shop sits four burned out cars and bodies are strewn everywhere.  A pair of red laser beams appear on joey and darren’s chest coming from the roof of the shop.

“Get out of the car and let me see that you ain’t got no sores on ya,” Yells a voice.

‘Well someone’s gotta get out and let him know who we are. I’ll flip ya for it,”  Darren says pulling out a Susan B. Anthony and flipping it into the air.

“Call it.”

“I don’t think they want just one of us to get out man, I am thinking they mean all of us,” Joey says.

“You all have thirty seconds,”  Says the voice.

Darren and Joey open the doors and they all pile out.  The red light scans over every inch of visible skin, several times on the girls in fact.

“Darren? Joey?” asks the voice.

“Yeah,” Joey says, waving his hands over his head, “Howdy.”

“Get your asses inside. You don’t want to be out there when the sun goes down fella’s,” Marty yells standing up on the roof.

“Hey Marty, long time no see,” Joey yells getting back into the limo and pulling it up into the parking lot.

“We brought beer,” Darren yells as they get out and walk up to the door.

There is the sound of multiple dead bolts being thrown and the sound of chains rattling, and then the steel door opens.

Darren grabs the coolers of gator tail from the trunk while Joey grabs up two twelve packs of beer.  They all go inside.

The door shuts revealing a sign that reads “Fuck you, We’re Closed.”

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Episode 4: Rolling into Gibson…

“Ok lets stop up here in Gibson at the Gator Shack B&B and get us a cabin. That way we can bbq up this tail,” Darren says.

“Well if they are still renting cabins I am sure that would be fine, but the chances are they are going to shoot us.” Candy says.

“You seem to have forgotten that it’s all gone to hell guys,” Chevelle says.

“Hell I know Bobby-Sue will give us a room,” Darren says.

“And if it’s all gone to hell, we can just take a fucking room,” Joey says.

“That’s if Bobby-Sue isn’t there,” Darren replies.

“We should also stop at Blackout’s Gun Shop. And get us some Ammo,” Joey says.

“Yeah now Marty, might shoot us. So we’re going to have to approach slow,” Darren says.

“I’ll call ahead and tell Marty, we’re coming over,” Darren says pulling out his cell phone.

The things beeps pathetically finding no signal.

“Yeah cell phones went down when it all happened a month ago.  They are no good anymore,” Candy says.

“So let just stop a bit away and maybe yell over at him not to fucking shoot us. How’s that?” Joey asks.

They dodge and weave down the road slowly making their way around the multiple wrecks, abandoned cars and bodies littering the road.  At one point they have to drive through a field to avoid a massive 747 airliner smashed into the road. Its remains smouldering in a crater big enough to swallow the limo.  They begin to see bodies nailed up to trees and impaled on spikes lining the road as they approach Gibson.

“What the fuck is all that shit,” Joey asks indicating the bodies.

“Perhaps it’s a warning,” Candy says.

“Yeah to me that screams ‘stay the fuck away.’ But then i’ve watched alot of horror movies,” Chevelle says.

“Hey isn’t that old Ned from the bar?” Joey asks, pointing to one of the bodies, slowing down to take a closer look.

“He doesn’t look right. Know what I mean?” Darren asks.

“Yeah he never had a huge fucking red growth on his face before, looks like a giant pimple,” Joey says.

“What the fuck happened?” Darren asks.

“I told you shit is fucked up now, there’s alot more like that,” Candy says.

“Yeah thats why we left New Orleans,” Chevelle says.

“Then why the fuck are you coming with us to go back there?” Joey asks.

“Where the fuck else are we going to go?” Chevelle asks.

‘Besides you were kind enough to let us out.  So maybe we will help you get hooked up with some buds if you help us survive,” Candy says.

They slow down almost to a stop as they approach a huge sign by the road that once read ‘Welcome to Gibson’, but has now been spray-painted to read ‘Welcome to the End’.

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Episode 3: For love of Music….

“Wait a goddamn second this fucking hoopty only has a fucking 8-track in it?” What the fuck is this shit? Was Randy the so old school he ain’t never heard of fucking cd’s?” Darren asks as they accelerate down the road towards New Orleans.

“Yeah he has a whole collections of old 8-tracks in here,” Candy says opening a case on the floorboard of the car. “Let’s see we  have Earth, Wind and Fire, Luther Vandross, Isaac Hayes, Barry White and Kool and the Gang.”

“I am not listening to that shit, what else is in there?” Joey asks.

“Well you could always use the CD player,” Chevelle says opening the glove compartment to reveal a Kenwood CD-player.

“Now you’re talking!” Darren says.

“Pop in some ZZ-Top!” Joey says.

“Or some Skynyrd!” Darren says.

“He doesn’t have any of that heavy metal shit, but we have alot of good music like 50 Cent, Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, Mickey Avalon and Cypress Hill,” Chevelle says showing them a CD holder on the visor of the passenger side.

“Cypress Hill! Now you’re talking sister,” Joey says.

“Put that shit in,” Candy replies.

As the first notes of Black Sunday begin Candy turns up the volume full-blast and they finally get on the highway 182 heading north towards Route 90.

And they all chime in.

“I want to get high – so high!
I want to get high – so high!
I want to get high – so high!
I want to get high – so high!

Well that’s the funk elastic, the blunt I twist it
The slamafied, bonafied funk on your discus
Oh, what you messed with, you got to bear witness
Catch a ho and another ho Merry Christmas”

Suddenly Joey slams on the brakes, the limo fishtails and squeals to a halt.

“What the fuck!” Candy yells.

“Dude, look!” Joey says pointing out the front window

“Holy fuck!” The girls exclaim together

There is a massive pile of cars partially blocking the road hanging from the windows of the cars are dead bodies. Standing atop the pile a man in a trench-coat is pointing a rifle at them.

“Get out of the car all of you!” He yells

“Blast that bitch Darren,” Joey mumbles as he opens the car door.

Darren uses the door to cover his exit of the car pulling shotgun out with him. Ducking down he brings the gun up sights and pulls the trigger in one fluid move.  The man falls backward out of sight gore fountaining from his partially torn off skull.

“Fuck you too!” Darren says

Two rifle blasts explode into the silence and punch through the drivers-side door window.

“Holy fuck! He had friends. Get the fuck back in!” Screams Candy

“Get us the hell outta here!” Darren yells

They pile back in and Joey punches it. The tires of the limo screech in protest as the limo slides half-off the road into the grassy shoulder to get around the wrecks.  Another shot slams into the back of the Cadillac as they regain the road and launch forward quickly leaving the pile of cars behind.

“Fuck this gimme a beer,” Candy says.

“They’re all in the trunk,” Daren says.

Reaching through the glass partition he fumbles around for a second and comes back up with a bottle of Hennessy.

“Here drink this,” He says handing her the bottle.

As they start drinking they chime back in singing Cypress Hill.

“Yes I smoke shit, straight off the roach clip
I roach it roll the blunt at once to approach it
Forward motion make you sway like the ocean
The herb is more than just a powerful potion
What’s the commotion, yo I’m not joking around
People learning about, what they’re smoking
My oven is on high, when I roast the quayo
Tell Bill Clinton to go and inhale
Exhale, now you felt the funk of the thai
when i feel the effects

I want to get high – so high!
I want to get high – so high!
I want to get high – so high!
I want to get high – so high!
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the from the bong from the bong
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the from the bong from the bong
yo hits from the from the bong from the bong”

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Episode 2: A fine cigar…

Darren walks in and out of the store carrying beer out and putting it in the trunk.

“Hey that shit is going to get hot in the trunk, why don’t we empty out the ice machine in there too,” Joey says.

“Fuck yeah, thats a good idea,” Darren agrees.

Darren grabs up the monkey wrench from a now-cooling pool of blood and Dinty-Moore gravy and proceed to pound it over and over against the lock on the ice box’s lock.

Squatting down beside the body, Chevelle removes a ring of keys from Cleetus’s belt.  She then walks over to Darren and placing a hand on his arm stops his swing.  He steps back as she tries a few keys and then with a click opens the lock.

“Try it now there slugger,” She says.

“You must be the smart one,” Candy says to Darren.

“I like ta think so,” Darren replies hoisting a bag of ice over each shoulder.

Darren walks back outside as the girls go into the bathroom and shut the door.

“I was hoping they’d use this water hose out front to clean up with,” Joey says.

“I was hoping to watch them hose each other off too,” Daren says.

“Well even at the end of the world we manage to find bashful hookers, just our fucking luck,” Joey says.

Joey starts to close the trunk but Darren stops him.

“Were going to need some bologna and shit to eat later man.  And some 5th avenue bars at least in there too,” Darren says.

“Oh yeah and don’t forget the fucking gator in the truck dude!” Joey yells

So they go over to the beat up truck and grab the coolers of gator tail they brought back from the swamp and toss them into the ice in the trunk.

They then head back into the store and proceed to empty out the lunch meat cooler into more shopping bags which they toss on top of the ice in the limo’s trunk.  Grabbing a 4 loaves of bread and a bottle of mustard Joey stuffs them into a bag and tosses it into the back of the limo.

“Hey you better get me some ketchup, cause I ain’t eating any of the yellow shit,” Darren says from behind the counter.

“All right, hang on,” Joey says grabbing a bottle of Heinz and throwing it into the limo too.

“Now gimme a couple cartons of smokes and some fucking red-man kind sir,” Joey says bellying up to the counter.

Grabbing up a display box of Red-Man and two cartons of Camel 99’s Darren places them on the counter.

“Check this out, I found some Black and Milds a whole fucking box of wood tips, it must be Christmas. Now is there anything else I can do for you today sir?” Darren asks.

“Why yes, you can put that whole fucking box of Zig-Zags in a bag for me sir,” Joey replies.

So they bag up their goods and Darren slaps a whole stack of scratch off tickets onto the counter between them.

They high five and are scratching away when the bathroom door opens up and the girls walk out. They stop and just shake their heads watching Joey and Darren happily scratching away  at their lotto tickets.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Candy asks.

“Hey I won a thousand bucks!” Darren exclaims

“Yeah alot of good its going to do you now,” Chevelle says.

“Why are you only taking one kinda cigarette and that nasty ass chew?” Candy asks.

The girls bust open a box of Hefty bags and proceed to dump the contents of the cigarette display into one of the bags. They push the guys outside with the bag and instructions to put it in the limo.  They go back into the store and proceed to set bag after bag of items outside the doors for the guys to load up.

Once the limo is full of food, smokes and beer, Darren and Joey grab up their guns and backpacks and put them in the car.  Darren walks over to the truck and reaching behind the seat grabs out his duffel bag full of ammo and slides it behind the front seat in the limo.

They pile in and Joey starts up the engine.  Backing out of the parking lot he snaps the gear shift into drive and guns the accelerator.

“Ok French Quarter, here we come!” Joey yells

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Episode 1: The Munchies

As she walks into the store the redhead turns around and flips them off.

“If you want all that shit come get it your fucking self, I am starving. Hello, I was locked in a fucking limo with my dead pimp for two fucking days.”

“I guess she didn’t like Busch… Beer,” Darren Laughs giggling.

“Oh, very clever,” Says the brunette following her into the store.

“Joey, I bet you the pimp’s got a cigar! I’ll check his coat, you check the ashtray,” Darren says.

“Or we could just go into the store and get a fucking cigar in there.  Along with some fucking beer.  How bout that?” joey asks.

“You never know what you’d find in a pimp’s coat,” Darren says rifling the pimp.

“Prolly a case of the clap, you dumb fucker,” Joey says walking towards the store.

“Hey dude, I found a .38 !! look at that! but its empty..  useless bastard, but its nickel-plated and pearl-handled! Kinda purdy,” Darren says.

“Hey Joey! Wait! Check this out he had more crack in his pocket then he did in the back of that fucking limo!” Darren yells holding a bag of white rocks

“Bingo!” Darren yells in triumph holding up a pair of brass knuckles

“Are you going to come help me carry some fucking beer dude?” Joey asks as he pauses at the doors of the store.

“Ok lemme pop the trunk on this bitch,” Darren says fumbling inside the limo for a second.

They walk into the store where they find the two women sharing a bag of chips and eating from an open can of beef stew.

“Hey what are your names anyway? I’m Joey and this here is my friend Darren,” Joey says to them.

The redhead looks up with her mouth full, holds a finger for a second and then says “Candy.”

The brunette speaks with her mouth full and says “Chevelle.”

“Wait your named after my first car I ever had?” Joey asks.

She nods in reply around another mouth full of Dinty Moore.

“My parents were what you would call flat-trackers,” Chevelle says.

“Flat Trackers? Thats for motorcycles ya know racing in a dirt circle with Harley’s and Husqvarna’s,” Darren says.

“Yeah my daddy raced them, but he also tinkered around with shitty old cars hence my name,” Chevelle replies.

“Hey you calling my first car shitty? Well, ok to be honest it did break down quite a bit.  I loved that fucking car though,” Joey says.

“Oh yeah they are the regular white-trash Ferrari’s,” Chevelle replies.

Joey reaches behind the counter and grabs a handful of shopping bags.  Tucking them under his arm he snaps one open with a flick of his wrist and walks towards the beer cooler humming a little song.

“What the fuck do you need a bag fer beer for?” Darren asks yanking open the cooler doors and withdrawing two twelve packs of Busch.

“Yeah but these bottles of Mad Dog don’t come with a handy carry handle dick,” Joey says stuffing clinking bottles of 20/20 into a bag.

The door beside the beer cooler opens suddenly and a large fat-man covered in grease with a name-tag that says “Cleetus” storms out with a huge red monkey-wrench.

“Ya’ll get away from my store! We ain’t open tuday!” Cleetus bellows

Suddenly an empty can of Dinty-Moore pings off his sweat covered head. Cleetus rears back gripping the wrench with both hands, looking for someone to swing at.

“Fuck you dick! You came out there and laughed at us stuck in that limo, was no sense in jerking off like that we didn’t wanna see your pathetic kiddie-cock. You should have let us out when you had the chance!” Candy screams

She charges at him with gleaming eyes and two cans of stew. A full can of stew nails him in the face and he staggers back against the freezer door.

“Fuck you bitches!” Cleetus screams back, trying to swing the wrench at them as they tackle him to the ground.

“This is better than baby-oil night at Stinky-Pete’s,” Darren yells.

The cans of stew rise and fall, over and over with piston-like precision. Screams turn to grunts and then to panted pleas and then to nothing as blood and gravy splatter and drip from the thick metal freezer door.

The sound of a Busch can opening breaks them from their panting efforts to kill what is already dead.  They rise dripping with gore and gravy as Darren hands them a can of beer each.

“Well ladies, I gotta say were going to have to hose you the fuck off before you  get in the limo,” Joey says.

“Fuck that guy!” Candy exclaims kicking the corpse

Categories: Uncategorized

Episode 0: The flash

Joey and Darren pulled their beat-up pickup into the gas station and parked by the pump. The engine shuddered and died with a metallic clank. To their left was a stretch limo with what looked like a dead man in a fur coat hanging out of the drivers-side window.

“Dude, I think that guy you ran over back there left his fucking forearm in the radiator,” Darren says, looking down at the steaming hood.

“I ain’t walking all the way back to New Orleans man, see if that limo has the keys in there.”

Stepping over to the 1973 Cadillac limo, Darren peeks over the dead man’s shoulder.

“Yeah, there are some keys in there. Help me pull this dead pimp-looking fucker outta here!”

Getting out of the truck, Joey grabs their shotguns and leans them against the limo. They each grab a shoulder and yank the corpse out of the window. The body falls to the parking lot with a sickening thump, its throat cut ear to ear.

From the back of the limo, a weak thumping noise could be heard. Joey walks to the back door and looks through the glass. There are two very skinny girls weakly pounding their fists against the sunroof.

Joey opens the door. The two women fell out on the ground.

“What the hell are you two bitches doing hiding in a limo with a dead pimp hanging on the fucking door?”

“Randy never unlocked the doors when we stopped and got his fool throat cut,” The redheaded girl says “Do you have any water?”

“Here, have a sip of this Busch,” Darren says, pulling a tall-boy from the cargo pocket of his pants.

The girls both grab at the can, The brunette pulls the tab and they both share the beer until it is gone.

“What the hell is going on?” Darren asks. “We have seen more dead bodies on the road then there are flies in an outhouse.”

“Where the hell have you two been? The fucking world ended a month ago. Goddamn fire from the sky fell down and destroyed everything.”

“We’ve been hunting out in the swamp, ya know?” Joey says. “Gators and any birds we happen to see.”

“We did seen us a flash, but we thought one of the refineries blew up. This ain’t the first time that’s happened.” Darren mumbles.

“You girls got any weed? Fucking Darren bogarted the last roach couple days ago.”

“Randy keeps a big pile of buds in the humidor on his coffee table in the French quarter,” The brunette says.

“Right on. Let’s go!” Joey yells.

“Hang on a sec,” the redhead says, walking toward the store. “Let me go inside and get some chips or something.”

“Get me a cigar, and get Joey a pouch of Red-Man!” Darren calls after her.

“And get some Zig-Zags!”

Two Rednecks surviving after the apocalypse..

This is the continuing story of two rednecks who discovered upon returning from their latest hunting trip that they missed the apocalypse, so now they must survive on a mostly dead earth.

(All content on this site is (c) Victor Mongaras & T. Patrick Rooney)