Thursday, February 09, 2006

Boy and Girl on Route 66


Doug's Story
Lightforce and Bob waited, dreaming of their ironic retro wedding. They're still waiting. Route 66 doesn't go to Funkytown.


Mushroom's Story
Their love went from Missouri down to St. Louis, and in Oklahoma City it looked so pretty. But somewhere between Barstow and San Bernadino it hit the asphalt. They got their kicks on Route 66, but when it was no longer an endless road for them they took their exits.

(Oh, and you, miss, in the picture? Get hip to this kindly tip, and take that Washington trip... I-5 ain't so bad this time of year, but I am.)


Little Bar of Soap's Story
Alice and Steve were filthy fornicators, just one 6 short of complete surrender to Satan.


The Taorist's Story
They are the new members of the suicide ganagbang parade of 1967.

They choose to die lying in the sun.

But they get hit by a mack truck instead.


April Girl's Story
The road is long, and time is short.
But together, we will make it.


Joe King's Story
...a couple prone on the highway, smiling stupidly as he approached...

He looked at her, his chalk-white teeth dull against the midday sun, and put his hand in hers. With her free hand, she wiped her eye, for a moment nearly losing her balance. The fast-approaching vehicle a glistening teardrop in the distance, she gripped her hand in his and forced a smile, her mouth suddenly dry. Just another moment, just one more.


My Story
Roger cruised down Route 66 in his 1967 T-Bird. The motor was music of driving days gone by. The wind shaved past him. The sun on the open road seduced him into ever higher speeds. The landscape whizzed by in a frenzied blur. He was free. But something looked wrong: a blockade in the road ahead. As this loomed larger he saw it was a couple prone on the highway, smiling stupidly as he approached. How dare they!? No way would he stop. He accelerated right into them. No one would ever know he'd done it. Seconds later he was too far ahead on the deserted stretch of road to look back. There hadn't even been a bump. "Oh, wow," he thought to himself, marveling at the surreality of it. Then he saw it again, the blockade that resolved itself into the boy and girl directly before his approaching vehicle. All the while they grinned, as if inviting him to rocket into them. He tried to force the gas pedal through the floor, to get that one spurt of acceleration to bring him over the edge - into what? Now they appeared on every horizon the instant he hurdled into them. He rammed them again and again crazy with the thought of ultimate triumph, sending them into a death from which they could not return. But they always returned. Smiling at him. Laughing. The adrenalin soaked into his psyche until the sweat and the tension caused him to tremble. Then the light flashed "Game Over" and everything stopped.

.
.
.

He turned to leave the booth, then walked enthusiastically to the owner of the establishment.

"That was so cool, especially how those ghosts kept popping up. Really cool."

The proprietor looked at him strangely. "Ghosts? There are no ghosts. You just drive."

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