I have the urge to go on an "working class crime spree!" The kind ya see on "Cops", and those other "wife beater" shows. Btw, I'll take my favorite barbie dolls with me. How I loves them. Anyway I figure I'll steal a 1966 Ford pickup from some trailer park somewhere.
Then I'll go down to the mini-mall, and rob the liquor store, the 7-11, bust open the "atm" at the gas station, and knock over the "Holy Jeebus Chapel of the Love" for the change in the poor box.
Which is the whole point, the change not the Chapel. Forgive me Jeebus. I'll be need'n them coins for the tolls on the highway. On which the drama of my two state high speed chase will be played out.
With my elbow hanging out the window I'll be sucking down brews, and careening along gawds interstate at 90 miles an hour.
Boy!
I'll be weave'n left'n right, raise'n sparks on the guard rails as the highway patrols from two seedy "flyover states" is on my tail. The pinball lights on their roofs going nuts, and their sirens wailing away!
Man that's liven!
Oh the freedom of the road! Blasting along in an old Ford pickup getting 5 miles to da gallon, and laying down a smoke screen of atomized dinosaurs. Hey they don't calls it "fossil" fuel for nuthin'!
Aw man, drinking, breaking laws, and being chased by cops! Life is Good!
'Course after a few hours of this happy mayhem the boys'n gals in blue get's fed up with me, and decides to shoot out my tires. They do, but it don't matter 'cause I'm in a tuff old ford, and I rides her steel alloy rims for another 80 miles!
I'm gleefully flying along at a 120mph leaving a fiery hale of crimson sparks behind me, and having the time of my life!
Finally they calls the rustbelt state police, and 'they' lays out them explosive spikes that shorts out your engine, and blow off ya wheels. Btw, the Iraqi's uses the same shit on our trucks over in the war.
Anyhow as is the traditional with these things the lower half of the truck is blown away, and I slams grille first into a lamp post.
The pickup flips over tumbling three, four times spraying a rainbow haze of bright burning gasoline as she goes.
Wow! ...just like on TV.
I jumps out with just a few bruises, and scratches. See both the Ford, and me is old timers, and can take the punishment!
( Actually the above gal with the gun don't got nothing to do with the story exactly. Sure I could work her in, but I'm too lazy. I just like gals with guns is all, well okay I likes boys too.)
'However'
Yup! Gals with Guns! They're the Nightmare of all them that stones Women, and hangs Gay's! Fuck you Osama, and ya evil pals!! These sweethearts is the friends of all Women in distress, and Gay boys being bashed! I just loves Gals with Big Frigg'n Guns!
Now back to our swell story which is waiting patiently for you below.
Ahem...,
Herein begins the best part of our drama.
"The Perp Chase!"
Yeah ya old Unk is beating it through the bushes like a bat out'a hell! Thanks to the News choppers I gots a TV audience now that's cheering me on.
Downsized factory workers, and laid off interior designers is handing me beers, and butter crescents as I sprint through their backyards, and over fences.
Kid's toss me candy bars, dogs bark, and old folks that remembers the golden 1950's, and full employment wave, and blows me kisses!
However it all ends as it usually does when I'm trapped in a dead end behind a bankrupted furniture factory. I'm cornered by a bunch a pissed off cops, and troopers.
They gleefully kicks the shit out'a me for an hour or so 'cause I interrupted their other 'important' business. Which was shaking down junkies, shooting unarmed Black kids, and getting free blowjobs at various mob-run lap-dance clubs.
When I'm finally hauled in the Heat sez my grievous injuries was from the crash.
Naturally I agrees with them, after all I don't want to be "suicided" in my cell after lights out.
Involuntary "suicide" is a serious health hazard in most local holds as we all know. Btw my Barbie dolls was released 'cause they was minors.
Well that's my "Working Class Hero" fantasy thanks for paying attention.
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