�Pot roast?� I thought. Of course the aroma is undeniable.
�Hello?� I was uncertain if I should enter or not, I was having more anxiety about his than I should.
�Well come in, �Bob� doesn�t want to heat the whole of the great outdoors, he says that�s what global warming is for.�
I took a modest step in.
�Ah-ah, shoes young man� it was a PERFECT voice, so wholesome so endearing and pretty damn sexy to boot. I blushed just listening to it. Of course I complied and slipped of good and evil and neatly placed them by two pair of penny loafers and a very familiar pair of six-inch pumps.
Visions of the bar preened through my minds eye, like an art film viewed through beer stained beveled glass. My tank was full, I had been rough housing with some of the boy�s, when a drag queen non of us had ever seen before jandered on up to the bar. It turned out he was a real barrel of monkey�s boning most of the regulars out of something and into something else. This queen was incredible he walked in with nothing and ended up with a hundred dollars. Everyone was dazed and amused, to keep the mood light he swindled a round out of the bartender for the whole gang. As we tossed back our oatmeal cookies a trendy little pre-heathen in a smart black office casual get up came at the drag queen with a Heineken bottle in her hand. It was like scene from girl town. She jumped right off the pool table. Luckily for him I lost my balance and stumbled into harms way, saving him a nasty blow to the head. The bottle glanced off of me and I spun with all the pep I could gather to swoop her over my shoulder and bounced her to shirly (President of the local kings club) who gave her a proper work out. My ear really hurt.
Another round was produced to celebrate my shameless stumbling. The drag queen produced a flask from�. Somewhere and poured its thick blue contents into his six inch pump.
Well that part of the night was sorted out, I snapped out of my daydream within a dream and realized that I had been placed into an overstuffed chrome colored bean bag chair and a TV Tray was in front of me.
This woman she glided as if on a conveyer, and leaned close to me. Whip in one hand, rolling pin in the other.
�Don�t let your supper get cold Billy�
�How do you know my name ma�am?� I also added the where am I and who are you.
�Oh you have been watched for quite sometime, we thought it best not to reveal our selves to you until now.�
Her apron bore a strange symbol like a cross smoking a pipe (Consequently available at www.subgenius.com ). I recognized it immediately from a flyer hung in my doorknob weeks ago.
She ruffed up my hair as if she where about to send me out to play in the yard with Rusty and the dog. But instead she insisted I eat and eat I did.
I was Tired of fruit shaped like buiks. She was pleased to keep bringing me plate after plate of pot roast and cake and stuffing and turkey and poi.
Finally she rolled a covered platter in front of me. I smelled this familiar twinge in the air like pipe smoke�the same odd blend I smelled when I found that pamphlet. Uncovering the platter with the grace of a TV sponsor I was gawking at a steaming book with braised pears garnishing the edges.
�This is the most important part Billy eat the book.�
�Oh I believe in a high fiber diet ma�am, but isn�t this a bit extreme?�
�call me Connie, Billy. And You will find it to your liking. I bet I can cook books just like your mother.�
She again ruffed my hair up. And then cut a dainty portion of the book and held the small wedge in front of me on a fork.
A voice came from the den. A mans voice.
�I would never miss any of Connie�s cooking there m�boy. She�s pretty good with that whip.�
She only smiled. I was so beguiled that I took the fork and placed the portion into my mouth and chewed.
I then understood. I understood everything.
I woke up with a shiver, and mission, now that I had digested the book of the Subgenius, all I had to do was wait for the signal.
