23 Dec

The Duran-Duran marathon was not going well… 


The blood seeps from my ears as the whining inside the vehicle reaches critical mass. The telex on the dashboard spits out sheaves of graph paper indicating that the back seat complaints have actually registered on the Richter scale. Panic sets in. I can either endure the cacophony of growling stomachs and the crunch of gums in empty mouths or carry on regardless. Despite being the heartless bastard that I am, I acquiesce and indicate to the survivors of the biblical famine in the back of the car that we will make a stop at the very next opportunity. After the necessary ungrateful grunts silence ensues. The diminutive masses have been silenced by my rash promise of food and drink. The Prols may have had their demands met however the peasants are still revolting (I blame their mother’s genes!)

I look in the mirror at the two well-fed waifs behind me floating in a sea of forgotten candy wrappers, surrounded by discarded chip packets and empty cola bottles. One of the kid’s telephones lays discarded on the seat with the half dialed number to the Child Protection Agency still visible on its luminous screen. Lucky for me that I caved to their demands so promptly! Imminent incarceration by the Kiddy- police has been narrowly avoided. Arbitration at the point of a child’s will. Plugged back into their APPLE life support systems they lounge back in their seats, eager to partake in whatever victuals the next stop provides. Poor babies!


Having tried cigarettes and cigars Billy was keen to smoke something different…


After twenty seconds of perfect silence, the hum of discontent stats to buzz once again. Fortunately I have just passed a sign advertising the world’s largest, juiciest burger at an inconceivably low price; that and the chance to try my luck at the loosest slots in the land. Praise be to the happy hunting gods. I have entered Indian country and there is a last chance casino on my horizon. An oasis of plenty in a wilderness of absolutely nothing; cheap gas, cheap food, and even cheaper thrills. The kids see the sign and indicate vociferously that that is where we need to go. Like I have any other choice? It’s either the casino or I continue on to the next stop which I know the children will never survive. A slow lingering death from starvation or more likely a speedy demise through the laying on of patience- stretched hands.


Pilsbury Pornboy was eager to prove he had the balls to do a full page spread…


The upside to xenophobic genocide in the Americas is that the indigenous populations have built their wealth in the most incongruous of locations. That means, especially here in the South West, you can be in the middle of nowhere and yet still be within drivable distance of the casinos. Thinking to purge the red man from the plain states the murderous white bastards inadvertently helped benefit both him and the tribal nations. One of those classic, uncalculated, effects of mis-construed racial purification and ethnic cleansing. I for one am grateful and despite the hundreds of thousands who were killed am happy that it all worked out for the best in the end!

We park the car and in a last desperate rush of energy Jake and Sophia make a run for the casino doors. If they make it through the glass doors they will survive. If not they will slowly desiccate on the tarmac of the parking area. One can only wish them luck and hope that their incalculable sugar reserves will allow them to propel themselves into the safe environs of the Lucky Wigwam Casino resort.

Praise the gods, they have made it! The wife and I wander in behind them grateful that our off spring will survive even if we don’t.

Once inside we are bombarded with the crash of slot machines, the flash of lights and the jangle of soundtrack generated cash windfalls pouring from ceiling speakers. I glance up at the myriad cameras which hover over us like watchful CIA drones. Even now strange eyes are checking me out in darkened screening rooms; zooming in on my porcelain skin, electric smile and ocean blue eyes. Lucky bastards, no doubt I have just made their day! It would appear that even the most mundane of jobs has its perks.

Vladamir was ecstatic to be seated next to the winner of the gravitationally-challeneged poker championships…


In front of me is a line of seniors that stretches all the way around the outside of the casino. I curse audibly as I am desperate to use the facilities and relieve myself of the liquid baggage I have been costering for the last couple of hours. I find it a little hard to understand why the line is so long. Given the law of averages at least half of the walking dead in front of me have been kitted out with colostomy bags, so why are they waiting for the loo?


Although putting on a brave face, George was defenseless against Mary’s kung fu nipple grip…


On closer inspection I realize that the head of the line is stopped at the rewards desk. Free food, half priced this and nearly free that. The coffin dodgers in front of me have not survived for thousands of years without developing the sixth sense necessary to sniff out a deal. The car park is filled with tour buses, some from Canada of all places, and spewed their contents into the Lucky Wigwam. I attempt to push my way through the potentially lucky however the obstacles created by walking frames and mobility scooters create a state-side Maginot Line. Canes and steel prosthetics plus the attentions of a toothless blue haired demon cause me to rethink my strategy and change direction.

Having extricated myself from the ravages of the living dead I spy my hungry family by the grill. Unable to contain themselves the kids have already started to suck the ketchup out of the plastic packets and snort sugar through straws. I decide I had better get there quickly or there will be nothing left for the skeletal hoards around me who are clearly more in need of nourishment than my starving minions.

Focused on the slot machine, Dorris never saw Majorie’s super-wedgy attack coming….


I follow the arrows on the plush red and gold carpet that direct me to where ever it is that the Chief wants me to go. Luckily I end up at the grill area and not at the roulette table. A spontaneous decision to try my luck by placing everything I have on black could have proven fateful.

I make it to the grill and like Robinson Crusoe finding footprints in the sand, I spy the menu.

It’s burger time.



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