On the Wagon: A documentary of survival

The alarm clock went off and told me it was Monday this morning.

I don't remember anything past Saturday afternoon around 4 pm - so I'll humor you the best I can with a brief documentary about my first couple of nights rooming at here at The Paddy Wagon.

At first, I felt a little nervous - maybe even frightened.

Honestly?
Well, I don't know much about Johnny Menace... Nor have I ever really been compelled to. Sure, I've read his blog for many moons and had the courtesy of polite banter with him on the comments section - but never a side mention or email really.

So you can imagine my dismay when he picked me up from the front steps of the Wedding Party and offered me safe shelter from the pelting rain outside.

I remember... I was crying... and he told me that I was lucky peanut butter didn't melt in water... "But sugar does... So it would be best if you got in the car."

I interpretted that as Texan for "Jesus they fired you too? Get in the car before your mascara runs."

Anyway,
So there I stood at the front door of his high rise Dallas condo with my cardboard box of personal Wedding Party items, drenched to the bone - as Johnny clicked the front lock of his door:

"You're wet...."

"I am."

"You should ... get into something... dry."

"I should but I don't have anything but what I'm wearing. The only things I have in this box are... hmmm... Some photoshopped stuff, a couple of posts I never published, and oh.. this g-string... not sure how that got in there... Oh, and this Scumbag 2008 campaign button... Ahh, and a photo of Shawn's mugshot...."

Johnny peered down in to my box "Really... no trophy shirt in there..... No tickets stubs with dates written on them... more importantly...... anything.... perishable?"

"Uhh, no."

"... Well ... that's too bad ..."

Upon first entering the Paddy Wagon I admit I was a little shocked at the accomodations.
Here I imagined Menace to have strange phalic objects on the book cases (since everybody says he's a homo), or an animal sacrifice table somewhere in the corner...

Perhaps he was just your typical bachelor and had posters of beer babes tacked to the walls and porn stacked in the corner.... But he didn't -In fact, it was surprisingly clean and well taken care of... It looked dark but comfortable... I put my box down just inside the door.

"I have a maid. She comes tomorrow night. Do you speak Spanish?"

"A little. Not much."

"Well.... she'll burn your clothes... soo... you should learn."

"Wow, well okay. I'll try."

"And you should shower ....... right away... Wash off that Kansas soil... sterilize... whatever. The bathrooms in there..... you can wear my robe."

I headed off towards the bathroom, looking around the room for any details I might need to identify any "previous victim trophies" - but I couldn't get too nosey because Menace stayed two steps behind me the whole way.

The shower started. The water was hot. It was a long shower.

I filled myself up with his hospitality while he got some water time as well... I tried not to choke it down but I found it difficult... A big bowl of banana pudding and a bottle of wine - very filling indeed.

His robe was very big. I swam in it in fact. I got the sleeve sticky...

After a brief time-out we started hitting it heavy on the wine.... I admit I should've said no to the second bottle of Fat Bastard, but I didn't. I was so upset about my firing... I just wanted to forget.

Well, I did well... because I forgot just about everything that happened after that.
What I do remember was that he showed me his living room fire pit area and his media room. He then gave me the five digit code to get into the bedroom, and let me peek inside.

(excuse the photo, this was taken the next morning as I was waking up. You can faintly make me out on the right sitting on the bed. Notice the electric meat slicer stuck in the floor... Yeah, I didn't ask.)

"Which side do you sleep on? I have to know... because of.... the mirrors and well... possible camera angles.... what do you need... to sleep..... to wear to sleep."

"I don't sleep in clothes Johnny, if that's a problem I'll sleep on one of your couches."

"Oh... well.. no problem at all... we can forget the tape line then.... no clothes.... check."

He let me feed his pet sharks.
He let me jump on the bed.
He let me look in his drawers.
I touched his unmentionables....

On the floor next to the bed he had a bottle of Patron. In the far corner of the room sat a sniper rifle, perched on it's end. We left there quickly after I noticed the existance of the rifle - asking no questions. I watched as he grabbed the bottle of Patron from the floor and we headed towards the fire pit for dessert.

Roasted Marshmellows...

I like to burn my marshmellows to a crisp when I roast them.

Johnny didn't seem to mind because he did the same, and we drank the fuck out of that Patron - matching shot after shot until we were both slobbering.... drunk.

"Open your mouth..... wide EN or this'll make your face dirty...."
He shot a wad of hot sticky thickness at me - I dodged it, and the burning mess of marshmellow went flying into the far wall with a splat and stuck there. "... Well.... .... I guess I better aim..... a little better next time."

He made another note to the maid for replacement curtains.

The next one he flung connected on the front of my (his) robe... Menace stumbled over to make sure I wasn't going to catch on fire - mumbling something about "protecting his investment..."

(No clue people, he's a strange bird).

But his hand slipped... and he smeared the sticky sweetness from his robe on to my chest, it stuck there firm against my skin for a moment. It was hot, I was on fire. "Oops... sorry... EN... I uhh.... well that's too bad.. I've made your chest .... sticky..."

As the night went on, it just got stranger... hotter... smokin' hot.
Drunk, lucid and high from sugar - we sat and talked Scumbag/SHS '08 campaign strategies, hoping that soon the Wedding Party would find themselves in a bind and offer us our jobs back.

But before we could finish that thought; some strange jacked-up dragon puppet looking thing came in and busted up the joint.
I admit I was a little dismayed being so drunk and dis-oriented. But I remember him being blue and not so bright, and negating the bank roll of wadded up bills on the table and the eight ball Menace had stuck on the breakfast nook.

But no matter - all he stole was our weed and jerked off in the fire pit... We didn't need that Mexican stank weed anyway. The good shit was locked in the bedroom. And as far as the fire pit went, well, it was all good... He left DNA on the brick nearest the autographed picture of PBC that I had retrieved from my card board box.... We swabbed it of course.

I had to take another shower thanks to that psycho dragon puppet from hell... but now Johnny's bathrobe was soiled in burnt marshmellow and dragon shit... so, I was pretty much naked and without clean clothing... again.

Yes, really.. Now Johnny has seen me completely stark naked. How embarrassing and unexpected... Thanks Calzone.

We put a towel over the cum stained carpets and left a note for the maid to shampoo and send the DNA swab to the Dallas Police... Then, I nursed Johnny's taser wounds and he offered me one of his shirts to wear.

"Johnny, I think that now that we're roomies people will think we're fucking. Don't you?"

"Well..."

We read Dr. Suess and decided to watch some TV.
He had this really funny trick where he'd tell me to get up and switch the station... and then he'd do it from the remote before I could get there.

I think that photo is from about the sixth time I got up and down thanks to Johnny and his little remote pranks. I kept having to get up and down... up... and down... sometimes fast, other times a bit slower.

Yep, I went up and down a lot that night.

Menace just smiled behind the sunglasses and wiped the sweat from his forehead "You know EN... Now that we're roomies, people will think we're fucking...."

I laughed and we shared the last of the Patron - swigging it straight from the bottle. Then he showed me the creases in his couch; and I looked for spare change that may have fallen between the cushions as he went on about Willy Wonka or some weird shit like that.

I vaguely remember grunting...

He cracked open another bottle of Patron..... and everything went dark.

I woke up this morning... two days later. Next to me was an icy hot patch and some after dinner mints. I could hear him at the foot of the bed.... working on his french.