Monday, August 22, 2005

From: Conversations with Snook (The Younger)


This is a Tiburon, genius! The steering wheel is worth more than that piece of shit you’re driving! What’s the matter with you?! Those coke-bottle lenses you’ve got strapped to your head with a belt aren’t thick enough?! Jesus H.! … Man! Look at this! … Buddy, if you so much as put a smudge on this car I’m gonna run you over with it!

Well, what are you doing standing there like an idiot?! Move it, four eyes, before I bowel-move all over your pointy little head!

What’s that? What’s that?! Don’t you tell me to fuckin’ relax! Yeah, you fuckin’ did, I heard you! And unless you want the imprint of this ring in your forehead, I suggest you just keep your yapper shut and move this banana-coloured heap! Now!

Eh? Queen’s Engineering. You get it when you graduate. So you’re not dealing with some goddam meat-headed ‘roid-rager, alright. What do you mean the Super Bowl? You think if I was in the Super Bowl I’d be standing around here talking to you? Oh, you’re being funny! Listen, smartass, all I gotta do is clock you the once and you’ll be reading goddam Queen’s Engineering every time you look in the mirror for the next two months, so clam up and take off! And you better pray you didn’t scrape my paint!

What? Yeah, Einstein: it’s a real ruby. I mean, it only cost the ten Gs so I was like: what the hell! Man! You’re even dumber than you look! Who could afford a goddam ruby this big?! You think if I could afford rocks this size I’d be buying goddam graduation rings from Jostens?! Well, I don’t know, but it wouldn’t be from some welfare outfit like fuckin’ Jostens!

What’s it to you if I am? Well, let’s put it this way: do you think I could afford this car at my age if I wasn’t an engineer now? ... Yeah, that’s funny, Eugene. No, no, no: that’s real fuckin’ funny. And, listen—no seriously!—you’re right: I work for the Chatanooga Line, actually. Y’ever hear of that? Yeah, they call it the Chatanooga Choo-Choo-CHEW YOUR FUCKIN’ HEAD OFF AND SHIT DOWN YOUR PENCIL NECK IF YOU DON’T MOVE THIS FUCKIN’ LEMON OFF MY GODDAM SPORTS CAR! Yeah, well, if you don’t want me to yell then do as you’re told! That’s right: get out those keys! Make sure the plastic doesn’t snap off in the keyhole!

I meant that the key was made out of plastic—just never mind and move! I still gotta do my goddam laundry for fuck’s sakes.

Yeah, that’s what I said. Oh, it isn’t, is it? And what does Alfalfa here, who’s driving the piss-coloured equivalent to Herbie the Lovebug, know about sports cars? Herbie was a sportscar?! He drove like one?! You drove Herbie?! Well then how do you know how he fuckin’ drove? Oh for fuck’s sakes! What’re you, thirty? And you’re still acting like Herbie was real? Do you believe in the goddam Easter bunny too?

And yes, Hershey Squirt, it is a sports car ... So what if Hyundai made the Pony? No, really: was it?! What does it look like to you, I’ve been living under a rock? And what does it matter anyway if, like, the first car they ever made was a dud? A lot of reputable companies had modest beginnings. Think of Porsche. Exactly. You gotta start somewhere. Volvo was the same way. Well, yeah, I know they don’t make a sports car, but it’s all quality … Yeah, okay, buddy. You can ride your little Pony all you want, but Hyundai’s come a long way since then. Besides, next to this piece of shit, a Pony’d look pretty good.

No, your car, obviously.

It’s not your car? Well then who the hell are you?