At The Last Picture Show

The Rendezvous – Second Balcony at the Last Picture Show

Here come my king all dressed in red. Betcha fi’ dollar he kill you dead. Iko Iko all day…Talkin’ bout hey, now, hey now, Iko Iko all day… – “Iko Iko”

CORNERSTONE CORNERS, TX – Seńor Demoniac and Miss Classified checked in from their secret rendevous, just in time to reveal that which is not to be known.

Those who know no no know.

Now it can be told.

THERE IS A PLACE in the thicket – the BIG THICKET – a hooch where an OG lives with a very friendly old bulldog and a Mrs. Grey Bob Cat who will mock bite your hand to say, “If you were a kitty, I’d spend some quality time with you, dude.” She runs with the wolves. Curls up at your feet, purrs at the night, yawns, stretches, rolls over like a kitten, starts, jumps – scampers away in a huff and turns to look back.

The old timer rode a shovel head, and he has something to teach.

“Back then, they wanted to know if you were, or you weren’t.”


BEFORE he prospected; when he was hang-around, they made him believe.

“They made me think I’d actually seen a murder.”

They had their reasons.

“No cop would ever put up with that. They know that.”


There is a line of logic, a reasoning that is impeccable. It’s like this.

“The only time you should ever look down on your brother is when you’re leaning over to pick him up.”

And when the time came, when things were way too hot, his best friend came to say, “I’ve got to have your patch.”

How did he get it? The patch.

It was over Christmas, and he hadn’t had a Christmas in a long time. So he took his brother to his house, and his mom and dad and his family made him welcome. They gave him a present.

“He hadn’t had a present in he couldn’t remember when.”

So, he patched him in.

All these years later – more than thirty – he gets it.

“He did it out of brotherhood, out of love. He did it to protect me. The reason I’m alive is I keep my mouth shut. I live alone. I did what I had to do to earn it…These guys today, I don’t quite get it. I just don’t understand…”

There were cops out there that day, wearing patches. Unthinkable!

Ritual trauma. Warrior society.

THAT WAS NO MURDER. The Grand Jury said so. That was war.


On the owl hoot.

So mote it be.

  • The Legendary


45 Seconds Of Carnage – An Ambush In An Ambush

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