Now we come to, like, the rather seepy part of our story.
"What's your name and serial, boy?"
"Calvin Klein." He said, hands over his privates. "six double-five four three two one."
"Bend over." He said, pen light between his teeth. The spark plug from the lawnmower was useless still laying to the side, and the class watching, all of it, a collection of useless things in the midst of process.
"Who is number 1?"
"You are number 6."
"I am not a number; I am a free man!!!"
Well, the De Lorean had us back in 2002, and she was 17 or so, wearing the shorty jean shorts, just lazing around, no targets in the area, and one done come woke, and was targeting, unbeknownst. "We're among friendlies." But so far, a Grand Old Petting zoo, and not a full on smorgasmbord of carnal delights.
I liked reading the Old Testament, the fighting and the sex with the ladies. Bathsheba, and all that, Ruth crawling in the bed to sleep like a prize pet at the master's feet. I volunteered during the church service, too; played guitar.
Ralphus tossed a husband in the bonfire.
Times were good, "twas the worst of; twas the best of."
Diddly-Lee-Lieu and Diddly-Lee-Doo had to coordinate and so forth.
Outside, getting drowned in some cow water trough: "I'm hard and shit; I done been institutionalized."
"Trump was wrong."
"Fahk!"
"Wax my Toyota, Biff. yuk, yuk, yuk!"
"Hey you. Take your damn hands off her, Biff."
"Knock the cover off the ball, Marty"
He done did. Men chasing the threading filler inside the ruined ball, around the infield, as Marty runs home.
I played Johnny B Goode, and told them they weren't ready for it yet.
But their kids would love it.
And if one of those kids ever sets fire to the carpet in the living room, smoking math, "go easy on 'em".
They were singing "97 Degrees in the Shade" by Hank Jr, over the loudspeakers, a touching tribute to Bobby Primo, unfairly cut down by his own hubris, laying out, as it were, through the outfield wall, for a wayward dinger, to rob a home run. Doc Brown was there, near the end of the row, with the rest of the team, and all had the Wonder Boy Fighter Jet patch on their sleeves.
"Pants?" said Doc Brown. "Where we're goin' you don't need pants."
Captain Rhodes: "Choke on 'em!"
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