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by T. Mike

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

just a line

Part 9
The Long Trip Back.
The Mississippi Conference:

       For some reason, the darkness, unending road and Zen-like state of continual movement of our long drive back produced a cloud of logic and reason which descended upon us exactly the way fairy dust doesn't. We started discussing serious matters, the future of the Van Gogh-Goghs, our direction, goals, objectives, plans. We were drawn deeper and deeper into a black hole of seriousness and adulthood from which no joke could escape. Suddenly, just as the Van Gogh-Goghs were about to discuss the pros and cons of vinyl siding, a sign for a small town with a incredibly dumb, funny name that I now cannot remember for the life of me remember, distracts us and jumpstarts all of our respective funnybones, in alphabetical order, last name first.

       Rob does the lion's share of the driving, spending most of the night being driven mad by our annoying snores and other disturbing bodily noises. He can't listen to the radio because that would wake the rest of us. He suffers in silent madness, splitting his time evenly between wondering if he should deliberately wreck and kill us all, and trying not to nod off and wreck and kill us all. I arise from my surprisingly sound night's sleep on top of our luggage and take over for Rob, who has been reduced to a shell of his former self by the ordeal. Over a fast food biscuit breakfast, Rob tries to convince us to kill Sharon Tate, Mr. & Mrs. LaBianca and "pigs" in general.

      Once we cross the North Carolina border we realize the rain has been waiting for us. You see, it had rained every night we had a show for six months prior to the BSIIF, which tends to keep people off the streets and more likely to do their taxes and watch "Friends" than go out to wacky sketch comedy shows. But the BSIIF show broke our long standing rain curse - apparently it had trouble at the Texas border with some Texan rain clouds and had to go back whimpering to North Carolina where it planned a terrible revenge. Well, not so terrible if you're a duck, which we weren't, so for us it was terrible, only not that terrible, cause it's still just rain but ah who cares, never even mind! The upshot was a thundercloud hiding behind the border with a big cudgel of rain thumped our heads with it the second we crossed the border. The rain didn't get to rain on our Austin show and was understandably upset and wished to use our brains for bongos.

      We made a mad dash to the practice space to dump our special orthopedic VGG chairs and props. We just outran the rain and had a few precious seconds to unload before the rain caught up with us. Then we briefly raced ahead of the rain again and started unloading Van Gogh-Goghs. Myself, I had just enough time to shave, shower and change before racing off to work. Which provided me personally with a great big sucky ending to the Van Gogh-Goghs Great Texas Adventure!

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