35 When The Cows Come Home


When The Cows Come Home


&&finnegan and the virus image  something interesting&&&


This already sounds uplifting.  Please Virus, tell me more.


<<you and your buddy are riding your bicycles to the Bucket o’ Blood.  Hopskotch Sunday and Finnegan on the road again.  you and Hopskotch just finished a bowl of Dopey O’s (that is apparently what the kids are calling marijuana these days) at Hopskotch’s apartment and are floating along the über suburban streets of the picturesque ‘Merican’ college town.  soccer moms shake their heads judgmentally at you and your stoned comrade; as they drive their gas guzzling S.U.V.’s past.  the soccer moms tell their 2.5 children in the back seats not to grow up like you people as they drive them to school.  it is Wednesday morning.  there is a cool breeze blowing.  you and Hopskotch both talk about childhood hopes and memories as you watch the other college kids stumble out onto the sidewalks for their early morning classes>>          


“You know you and Ruben probably wouldn’t have had to worry so much about money if you didn’t waste so much of y’all’s money paying on those stupid student loans.”, says Hopskotch Sunday.


“Yeah well the government tends to want the money they loaned you paid back to them Hop.”, you reply.  <<sarcasm in your voice and a smile on your lips>>


“Stupid money, stupid government.  I mean we, the people, gave the money to the government in the first place.”, says Hopskotch.


“Well, who’s stupid then?”, you say.


“We, The People!”, you and Hopskotch say in unison.


<<the two of you near the restaurant and you notice a thin slow flowing river of muck heading towards the street from the parking lot.  and it traces back up the slope of the parking lot to the back patio gate of the Bucket o’ Blood.  it looks as if the bucket of blood has spilled out and is flowing into the streets>>


“What the hell is that?”, you ask Hopskotch.


“I don’t know.  You’re the kitchen manager, go manage bud.”, says Hopskotch.


<<your dishwashing friend gives you a playful push toward the back gate.  you dismount your bicycle and open the gate to find a blood puddle and bits of flesh in front of the Black Metal Back Door>>


“Hey Hop, bring our bikes in here and come check the inside out with me.”, you say.


<<a surprising amount of calm in your voice.  you have upper management written all over you.  Hopskotch brings the bikes in through the gate and turns to see the gore on the ground>>


“Holy shit!  I’m not going in there, fuck that.”, Hopskotch says.


<<Hopskotch drops the bikes and takes a couple steps back out of the gate and looks around the parking lot>>


“Come on asshole.  Duff’s bike is back here.  We gotta go see if he’s ok.  Maybe he was attacked by some crack heads scavenging for cigarettes out here.  He could need our help.”, you say.


“Maybe he got tired of the Boss’s bullshit and killed him!”, says Hopskotch.


<<Hopskotch offers this hopefully as he rejoins you by the back door.  you pull your keys from a pocket of your black leather jacket and brush away a brown strand of hair away from your face.  a purple strand replaces it.  you begrudgingly push this one also out of your line of sight.  you do these actions slowly, trying to delay learning exactly what waits for you and Hopskotch behind door number one>>


You make a shitty game show host Virus.


<<hint: it is not the corpse of your angry boss.  not that you really want him dead, but it would make for an interesting day, huh junior?>>


Fuck You Virus.


<<Hopskotch coughs to let you know he is still there waiting for you to take action.  back from: the dead boss day-dream land, you insert the key into the lock and turn the door handle.  the Black Metal Back Door of the Bucket o’ Blood usually sticks when one tries to open it.  this is due to the fact that the B.o.B. was built on a lake bed, and like much of Normal Towne, the ground here  tends to rise and fall under various parts of the buildings.  the ground moves up and down, more like the waves of the ocean than a stable building foundation.  the Bucket o’ Blood rests on Normal Towne’s stormy sea, making uneven and hard to open doorways and door.>>


An interesting side note to your telling of my life story, dear Virus.


<<oh do tell, Finnegan>>


Hopskotch and I once collaborated on a painting of the employees of the Bucket o’ Blood as crew members of a pirate ship.  during the rainy season in the OKlahellmouth the roof leaks and water drips down the walls.  many nights I cook inebriated and I feel as if we are on a sinking ship.  Working as we drown.  In the painting the captain of the ship is a mysterious man named Jaybee.  Hopskotch and I decided to paint him because of some letters we found in the shed out back.  The letters were drunken rants written as a warning to any cooks who came after this Jaybee person was gone.  Jaybee wrote these letters to his cook descendants, as he called us, during his time as the Bucket o’ Blood’s kitchen manager.  


<<obviously you cannot heed a warning, huh?>>


Well I think back to it now that we talk of the uneven ground and the sea of Normal Towne beneath.  The ocean swallows us all in the end.


<<anyway.  you slowly pull open the Black Metal Back Door, so as to avoid alerting any intruder that maybe lurking inside.  to your surprise and dismay the door slides open easily, with only a slurping sound made by all the blood pooled in the doorway.  you turn to Hopskotch with confusion in your eyes>>


“Jeez…you think Free Dave or Notnek or some other asshole we work with maybe just set us up to get fucked with this morning?  They’re gonna jump out and yell surprise and make fun of us any second…right?”, says Hopskotch.


<<Hopskotch speaks hopefully as he follows you into the kitchen’s back room.  you do not feel like answering his question.  you walk into the front kitchen and the smell hits you.  you use all of your newly acquired super strength to hold in the contents of your bowels as you flip on the kitchen lights.  Boss is too cheap to update the wiring in the kitchen; so the lights flicker, start out dim and slowly brighten.  the first thing you see is Duff’s head in the mop wringer of the mop bucket; the next thing you see is daylight as you push past Hopskotch and run screaming out through the Black Metal Back Door of the Bucket o’ Blood.  oh the look on your face is priceless Finnegan.>>


Shut up Virus!  That is my good friend and spiritual mentor’s head back there in that mop bucket!


<<got you good rookie.  let us move forward in time about thirty minutes or so>>


&&duff’s head in mop bucket, cop drinking coffee out of cute coffee mug&&


“Hey are you two the ones who found the head…the, uh …body?”, asks a police officer.


<<the police officer has a thick black mustache and a wrinkled blue Normal Towne uniform and appears to be in his mid forties.  he holds his off cup in one hand and a bear claw in the other.  you and Hopskotch are sitting in broken patio chairs out on the back patio of the B.o.B.  you are both drinking cans of Polluted Pond Beer and sharing a marijuana cigarette.  Hopskotch and you have been drinking beer and smoking the drug steadily since the two of you found the Janitor’s head.  the chemical downers haven’t stopped you bodies shaking from fear yet, but the two of you are no longer screaming and crying>>


“Yes sir.  I am the kitchen manager here and my buddy Hopskotch, the…uh…dishwasher here, we were…umm, coming in…to open the restaurant.”. you manage to say.


<<during you response to the doughnut wielding police officer, you realize that you and your best friend are smoking dope and drinking beer in public in front of a law enforcement official…at a crime scene.  you look at the burning joint in your hand and then at your friend and then up at the cop.  you start to reach for the ashtray sitting on the broken table in-between you and Hopskotch>>


“It’s ok.  Don’t worry about it.”, says the officer.


<<you know he introduced himself earlier, but you weren’t paying attention.  so his name currently eludes you>>


“In this situation, most people of the general public would be in a state of shock and unable to effectively communicate with me about the crime scene and what may have taken place.  I can see that you two have found a way to work through your state of shock.  Finish your, uh…intoxicants and meet me inside before the rest of the team gets here.  I’m gonna clean the gore off the coffee pot and fix us a pot, Ha!, of coffee.”, says Officer Clever.


<<the policeman heads back into the B.o.B. to contaminate the crime scene.  you and Hopskotch each take another hit of off the joint, put it out and hide it along the back rails of the fence beside the exterior walls of the walk-in cooler.  you then down the rest of your beer and head back into the kitchen of death>>


That is what I’ve always called it…


<<so Duff is dead.  as dead as anyone gets in this story anyway…  the meat containing various strands of, well..me, has been distributed to restaurants and grocery stores all across the Oklahellmouth.  the Cook and the Dishwasher do not know all of this now, but both of your lives are about to become much more interesting.  you might even get to see the destruction of your day job; a dream every hard working proletariat secretly or openly yearns for.  the Zombie Cow Virus (or Bovine Good AIDs, as i will come to be called in some circles) was created by someone you know and love and was funded by the illuminati.  i was distributed to various meat packing companies all over this great body of land known as the Oklahellmouth.  there are many stories about my origin.  some of them are pretty interesting, others are just silly.  here is one of my personal favorites>>


&&image of Virus holding up a map of McCow Towne with its tentacles for Finnegan to look at&&&   



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