the squeal to 3 Hours to Midnight, told by Gonzo writer, Al North.
The Airport security officer sat across from me shaking his head like a high school English teacher catching his student cheating. Clearly this man took his job entirely too seriously as he explained that my actions could be considered a crime if it didn't make the air-line look so incompetent. "So the captain looses his mind and strips all his clothes off, the co-pilot was threatening to crash the plane because his wife was sleeping around, the Navigator was found drunk with a group of students. HOW THE F**K DID YOU END UP FLYING THE PLANE?", My reply was less than helpful as the officer nervously inhaled a cigarette, "Can I go, I'm on a tight schedule man, two hours to my deadline. I'm not a hero, just a man." You would think an honest answer like that would get someone a warm friendly hand shake. Instead, his thugs picked me up and carried me, I was released with a warning, given a sixteen month ban from the airport, and they still lost my luggage. Is this how we honer American Heroes for saving the lives of innocent passengers who all have the right to murder the airline in court with lawsuits? Their throw managed to get me right on the Taxi drop off.
Being Nazi B******s, they picked a driver who looked too mentally unstable for any sort of responsible work, including taxi driver. his torn black shirt and ex-roadie look with a tint of meth-head, he screamed in my face "I'LL GET YOU WHERE YOU NEED TO GO MAN!!!" with a friendly face of a serial killer, he tossed my one bag into the back seat. his speakers blasted music so load it would normally inpare the hearing of a normal human being, however, the blood from the drivers hear seems to have dried in the last hour. Climbing into the back of his car, the over powering smell of raw meat as well as a large black dog sitting in the front with the driver. Starring at me like the hounds of hell, "DON'T MIND 'BLOOD BATH' HE LOOKS MEAN, BUT HE IS TOTALLY COOL, THAT KID CAN STILL WALK ANY EVERYTHING!" My driver screamed at me as we sped through the taxi stand, narrowing missing a group of Nun's walking across the street. We managed to hit every single speed bump racing to catch the green light to the free way on ramp. As we side swiped a shopping cart, my cell phone beeped with a text, "You've got three hours Al, no bullshit, three hours-Chester" than a second message "p.s. did you land a plane? or is this a joke, reply-Chester". My head was pounding, just a few minutes of sleep would help, but this lunatic must be watched. His hair is too suspicious.
Music blasting, Blood Bath howling as the driver pushed the very limits of the car's engine. At this point it seemed a good idea to eat a few sheets of acid, I have always held the philosophy: if your traveling at the limits of human endurance, drugs can only help the experience. My driver also believed in this philosophy as a cap from a bottle of booze popped into my lap, popping little green pills in his mouth, he washed them down in a nice large gulp. I am pleased to considered myself open minded enough to allow my driver the freedom to driver dangerously intoxicated. "GOOD FLIGHT MAN?! I HATE FLYING, NOT AS MUCH AS BEING CHASED BY COPS MAN! IT'S LIKE THEIR PERSECUTING ME!"
Yet another victim of a cruel system of political profiling, "I understand man, its crazy, 'no Justice in the Land of The Free,' so how often do you get pulled over man?" It was than my driver reached under his seat to revile a .44 Magnum, "LIKE EVERY NOW AND THAN FOR A GOOF, I LIKE TO SHOOT AT THE SIGN!!!" He than proceeded his mentally unstable look by firing out the window nailing sign after sign on the California freeway. It was than, the acid kicked in.The taxi became a strange blur of lights and twenty feet, in the front seats my driver had been replaced by a short hairy little goblin. Blue ice cream pouring out of his mouth, as a seven foot tall black Scooby Doo sat next to him doing lines of trail mix and cocaine off a ham sandwich. Sweat was pouring off my body, my seat was causing me to sink deeper and deeper into the cushions, to be trapped with random change and condom wrappers.
Above my head, red and blue dragons fought in the nights sky. The hairy goblin was angry as he through fire works out the window of the long taxi. Black Scooby was singing Sammy Hagar's 'Heavy Metal', next to the blue and red dragons, bright fire works burned in the nights sky. But none of these spectacular sites would bring even a small smile from the hair goblin, leaning out of the window, he yelled something to the dragons. I could make out 'Alive', I was sure he was telling the world how happy he was to be alive while spitting out blue ice cream. The entire room felt it was spinning as fire works sprang from the goblins finger as he laughed. This upset the dragons who pushed the long room around the black ice skating ring we all found ourselves on. My goblin friend laughed while placing sparkling lights into his nose, Scooby started to question the nature of mans out look on Christian faith in a post modern socity. And with a tickle from one of the dragons, we started to spin, my memory is very fuzzy after that.
Having awaken to a car filling with water, I had hazard a guess my driver and his faithful dog drove into the bay in order to escape the Fascist Gestapo tactics of Johny Law. Thankfully, I boat of Japanese tourist felt I was the perfect subject of photography. Hitching a ride on a passing fishing boat I took a brief inventory. Sadly I had lost most of my drugs to the bay, one bottle of Gin, a stolen cell phone, and a picture of Richard Nixon flipping the bird. My computer had survived South East Asia, three boat trips, two near misses, and a s**t load of random explosions. Once on shore I was minutes away from my editors office, having excepted the story, he would no doubt give me my check so I could at once take a rest, when a text message popped up.
"Your going to D.C. to cover the candidates, will foreword check to hotel room. Press pass waiting for you at office-Chester"
"P.s. what happened to rental car and boat in Thailand, hotel said dog track was found in your suite, explain in D.C.-Chester"
I really enjoyed the nostalgia that the scooby-doo created. great write, what a trip :)
Posted 12 Years Ago
12 Years Ago
You skimped through this didnt you? I say that cause Scooby is only mentioned twice,
Once doi.. read moreYou skimped through this didnt you? I say that cause Scooby is only mentioned twice,
Once doing a line BLOW and singing heavy metal, and I mention him as a black dog
12 Years Ago
haha no. I know scooby isn't the theme. its just immediately after reading this, I zeroed back to sc.. read morehaha no. I know scooby isn't the theme. its just immediately after reading this, I zeroed back to scooby and left to go watch a scooby video... the nostalgia it created in ME :)
LOL What a trip!... Scooby Doo and the Little Hairy Goblin definitely stole the show! (he he)....love the craziness of your taxi ride...Insane! Well penned.
I am really enjoying how you describe things, especially the cab driver. It's a very interesting perspective, overall this story is pretty interesting. I'm a little curious though, if you plan on continuing this, and it's the second part already, why not just make it a book instead of separate stories? It took me awhile to find the first one.
Real groovy tale, with a bundle of characters that leap off the page and slap you round the face an neck with enough imagry and one liners to make your ears bleed, just for the fun of it. At risk of repetition...Real Groovy
Quite phantasmagorical; definitely amusing. I am old enough to remember when the only place to get great acid was from Dr. Leary; and it was incredible, totally pure, no contaminates.
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