>
>It was cool watchin' the Aerobee.
Mike: Simple pleasures for simple minds.
> Riff would whip it, and the pink
>circle would shrink as it sliced on through the air fifty million yards
>off into the distance,
Mike: Exceeding escape velocity, it broke free of the earth's
gravitational pull...
> not wobbling in the least, as there wasn't a
>breath of wind at all anywheres. Riff'd sold some bad stuff, or
>something,
Tom: Stuff or something. How much more _non_descriptive can these people
get?
Crow: So like this thing happened to this guy, or someone. And it really
sucked. Maybe.
> to Jeremy Christianson, who'd like O'D'd last week out back
>behind the school. He had come back into the cafeteria for help or
>whatever, and at first Mr. Strickland tried to kick him out 'cause he
>was wearing a bandanna,
Crow: And nothing else.
> but like then he went down and started jerking
>all over the place, right in the middle of the caf,
Mike: In the middle of Naked Lunch period.
> and Jay had to get
>stitches after he'd been elbowed trying to get a good position up
>front, 'cause he and everyone else thought it was a fight. Jeremy died,
>though,
Crow: I can see the author was all broken up over it.
> like right there, and the police all came down to question
>people, and there were five million mini-vans
Tom: Hyperbole: your guide to quality literature.
> out front with radio
>dishes on top of 'em, and we got the rest of the day off, just like
>today. We always get off for drugs, guns and death, and sometimes when
>it snows, too, though the White House effect is kind of ruining that.
Mike: Yeah, I hate it when Clinton keeps it from snowing. What the hell
are they talking about?
>Nobody busted on Riff, though, 'cause it wasn't his fault-- he didn't
>know the stuff was laced with Plutonium or something. He's not that
>way.
Tom: Dumber than dirt, thieving, and promiscuous sure, but he'd never
hurt anyone.
>
>Nobody was supposed to know Travis was blowin' off the Napkin Holders,
>'cause it wasn't out yet that he was plannin' on ditchin' them, if the
>Three Flaming Monkey Buns took him up as their new rhythm guitar, now
>that Fizzy had dumped them for Fluorescent Gorilla Queen.
Mike: Behind the scenes in the dark and shadowy depths of the white
trash grunge music world.
Tom: It's Great Jones Street Redux.
> He was being
>all gay about it,
Crow: [singing] Clang! Clang! Clang! goes the trolley!
> 'cause he thought he was like moving up, or
>something, though he was only moving sideways, pretty much-- he was no
>Riff,
Tom: I know Axl Rose. Axl Rose is a close personal friend of mine. And
you, sir, are no Axl Rose.
> and he never would be-- no matter how much he shot up. Cliff and
>I played in the Wandering Road Warriors, but we couldn't gig too much
>lately 'cause Cliff'd been getting grounded a lot on the weekends,
Mike: They'd stripped him of his pilot's license.
>though really the truth is Cliff could've snuck out pretty easy to
>play, if he'd wanted to, but mostly he's just not into the scene,
Tom: Okay, so I'm a Gen X grunge guitarist in this scene. What's my
motivation?
Crow: You don't have any.
> so
>much. He'd rather read a book, or something. Ever since his brother
>flipped out at Priceton, and took to living in the woods,
Mike: With that nice Mr. Weaver.
> his dad's
>been constantly pissed off at him for participating in any cultural
>events,
Tom: Son, you're grounded. No ballet, opera, or theatre for a week.
> and all the negative vibes have kind of been getting to him,
>psychologically and stuff.
>
>I'd promised I'd go help Dan pick up the kegs for Jay's bash, as his
>parents had taken off just today,
Crow: Ironically, they had left for their weekly AA meeting.
> and I got to hopin' Cliff would show
>up before soon so we'd have time to get down to the Robert Lee Country
>Club and go golf-ball hunting
Mike: Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see
them hitting.
> before I had to split to warm up with
>Preppy Death at the Cradle. I remember how crystal clear and sharp it
>all was, the view from up there in the tree,
Tom: If only I had my Mannlicher-Carcano 6.5mm.
> like the most normal
>things can suddenly become so perfectly vivid and acquire a haunting
>sort of magic,
Mike: Meanwhile, off in the distance, Chaplain Tappman is burying
Snowden.
> or whatever, when there's no more school; a freeze-frame
>of all the high-schooler people layi ng out, soaking up the sun
Crow: Aging prematurely...dying at 35 of skin cancer...
> and
>sipping out of their coolers, with the Frisbees and aerobes hangin'
>motionless-- it was a trip; but pretty soon like my butt fell asleep,
Tom: Want me to wake it up? I can't believe I just said that. I've got
to get away from this story.
>and I had to start shifting about to get comfortable on the branch, but
>it didn't help at all, for more than a second or two, before I had to
>do it again; and while I was busy doing that, I came to thinking about
>just how long the summer stretched before me,
Crow: Too long for a crosscountry killing spree. Sigh.
> and how it was just going
>to be so hot and humid all the time, and how the air down around here
>always hung heavy when the sun went straight up, and how it like made
>it all so itchy and hard to breathe,
Tom: Ah! The heat! The flies! It's Nam all over again!
> even in the shade; and how lonely
>the afternoons were when everyone else was swimmin, and how this year I
>wouldn t be able to sneak in t he RLCC pool any more, on account of
>that new barbed-wire they got strung up around it,
Mike: Plus the depth charges in the deep end and the dobermans guarding
the poolside area.
Crow: Caution: lifeguard not on duty.
> and with my mother
>being married to like the club president dude now-- she'll have the
>snipers out for me.
Bots: Pchew! Pchew! Pchew!
Mike: North by North Carolina.
> I got to thinking how it could all really suck,
Crow: Much like this story.
> in
>a way, and it made me sad and all heavy and low; for like just a moment
>ago I'd been so high and looking so forward to it all, but now I'd lost
>that high feeling, and my heart was all of a sudden breaking,
Mike: You know, more die of heartbreak.
> and the
>more I thought about how I had no reason to be feel ing down; the lower
>and lower I sank,
All: [chanting] Jump...jump...jump...
> and wouldn't you know when I looked up my eyes were
>greeted by a long, dark cloud comin' down away off on the horizon--
Tom: No fair! Why'd they have to have the apocalypse on the first day of
summer vacation?
>right behind the spire of the main Chapel, and it made it look bone
>white, and brought out all the details. I noticed these little polished
>brass statues up there of like angels or something which I'd never seen
>before, and there was a jet black crow perched on one,
Crow: Nevermore.
Mike: That was a raven.
Crow: Whatever.
> to match the
>incoming cloud, and another roostin' away on top of the cross shootin'
>ou t of the spire's tip. Like I was ready to cry, and I would've too,
>probably, but I heard someone yellin' out my name.
Crow: Actually someone had been chopping down the tree while he was
sitting in it and was just yelling "Timber!"
> I looked off over in
>the direction, and there was Cliff away off in the far distance!
Mike: [disinterested] Wow. That's really, incredibly exciting.
> He was
>running towards me, with that big back clo ud rising over him, cutting
>out across the blue sky, and this gust of wind suddenly ripped through
>the leaves and like about tore my shirt off-- I'm not kidding.
Tom: I'm not making this up. Oh wait, yes I am. Never mind.
> Cliff
>once told me I was some kind of manic, or something. He said he was
>too.
Mike: They're making _me_ depressed.
>
>Before I co uld dismount out of the tree, he came right on a full
>sprinting up to me, "To Dath Swamp!"
Crow: To the Batcave, Robin!
> he yelled as he booked on by. And
>there, not so far off in the distance, hot on his trail, I saw Mr.
>Broder, our swim coach,
Tom: [wondrously] And you were there, too. And you and you and you...
> going off in full sprint, and hot on his trail
>was Mr. Janovic too, the school gynecologist, and I didn't have much to
>say to them, so I was down out of the tree and after Cliff!
>
>Well soon as we made it to the Ghimghoul woods we knew we were home
>free without even trying-- all we did is do what we always did
Mike: So we did it, and then we were done.
> when
>Cliff's big brother Drake and his friends used to chase us home.
Crow: We curled up in a ball to protect our face and genitals and waited
for them to stop beating us.
> We
>made a left behind these pine trees, but soon as that was done, we hit
>the creek, then we ducked down low and hung a left and doubled on back
>through where the creek had sawed away the land.
Tom: Did we just enter the Leatherstocking Tales?
> We heard 'em go on by,
>like so close to where we were pressed up against the bank that we
>could've reached out and touched 'em.
Crow: Hey! It's a subliminal AT&T ad!
> Off into the distance down the
>trail they ran. We listened to 'em fading' through the brush, and then
>we made way on back towards Cliff's house.
>
>"Dude, you crazy?"
Mike: Only when the wind is north-northwest.
> I caught my breath. "They're gonna kick your ass
>next time they see you."
>
>"Yeah, really?" He laughed and skipped a stone along up the creek.
Mike: Wow! I got three on that one!
>"Maybe they won't see me again. But like check this out-- this kicks
>ass. You know how this is Drake's jacket here--
Tom: It's got a map sewed into the lining, just like in Ishtar!
Crow: You admit to seeing Ishtar?
> I told you how all the
>stuff that got sent home. So there I was in Dehaven's office, with
>Travance and Jeremihah, and Dehaven and Janovic were just sitting there
>watching, like fags or something,
Crow: I hate them.
Mike: I know.
> and they dogged on me when I brought
>out my book-- they'd just banned Lord Jim too,
Crow: The horror...the horror...
Mike: That's Heart of Darkness.
Crow: Yeah, but I can't think of anything appropriate from Lord Jim
right now.
> and it's all I had on
>me, but then I like saw my confiscated copy of Moby Dick on Dehaven's
>shelf-- you know, and it's not banned anymore, since they found out
>last week that Herman Melville was a lesbian,
Tom: I...they're...but...
Mike: I know.
Tom: But...
Mike: I know.
> so I went for it, but
>they were being like dicks. So there I was, dude, bored dead, fumbling
>through all the pockets, lookin' f or money or gum or somethin', and
>check out what I found!"
Crow: Fruit Stripes!
> He shoved this crumpled piece of paper at me,
Tom: Do you like me? Yes. __ No. __ Check one.
>which had this skull and cross bone pirate stuff all over it. Then I
>saw it was a treasure map, you could tell, all right, for it had a big
>X marking the spot.
Mike: That's not a treasure map. It just shows were the electric cable's
buried.
> I scoped it some. It was a double treasure map,
>actually, 'cau se there were two X's marking the spot-- three,
>actually, but one was pretty small.
>
>"Do you think
Crow: Not if I don't have to.
> it's real?"
>
>"Hell yeah- dude! Look at these whacked-out places on it! There's the
>Pirate's Cove by a Carnegie sea, and The Wise Old Owl Nest, out past R
Tom: [Brit] Perhaps it was the Castle of Arrrrr.
>elativity Ridge, and here's Blue-Beard Run, and the Red-Avenger's
>Cavern,
Tom: This isn't really happening. This can't really be happening.
Crow: No, Tommy, it really is this stupid.
> and the Sudden-Death Green and Sinner's Sand Trap out on the
>golf course,
Tom: By the Links of Horror and Hellhole 13.
> and this whole region here's Sycorax's Swamp, and over
>here, all these building are part of the Prince's Aft er Dark Kingdom.
Mike: The Jolly Roger boys break ground with new levels of insipidness.
>And here, all these French- looking things, like there're just English
>written backwards; Night-Hawk Hill, and the unnamed-soldier's tavern,
>out here by the Final Mansion With No Home,
Mike: Owned by the Man with No Name.
> and out in the field here,
>standing all alone, the Oak of Death,
Tom: Next to the Elm of Serious Injury.
> and these two points, up along
>this road, both have the Bronzed Truth Seekers of Uassan Dlo.
Mike: Hmm. Uassan Dlo.
Crow: Sobnia.
Tom: Naklab.
> And check
>it out! Heres the key that was folded in the map!" There was a poem on
>it, too:
Tom: Roses are red; violets are purple. Sugar is sweet, and so's maple
syrple.
>
>"Is this of 'round here, you figure? Never heard of like an Oak of
>Death, or anything."
>
>"It's Priceton, man. Check it out! You see anything else?"
Mike: [dumb] Uh, I see a birdie and some grass and you and me and...
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[Continued in part 4]