Utah Saints (pt 5).

I never heard of a town called Rain so I had to buy me a map and look it up, but even then it weren’t on none of the big roads – I had to take this one to that one, and that one to this one, and then another shit-ass two-laner with slow people slowing me down, and there weren’t no bar called the State in the phone book but the guy at the gas station said he knew where it was and said he got his dick sucked there regular and we came to blows when I told him to keep his faggot mouth shut. And this old bar didn’t even look like no real bar, and it sure as shit looked too small for somebody like Dixie, being all full of trash and retards and sluts who look ready to gangbang the first dick that gets waved in their faces and shit-ass country music scratching out of the speakers, and it smelled like every single person in there don’t do nothing but piss their pants all day and the beer’s stale and warm and ripped my guts all to hell. Everybody knew Dixie but nobody knew where he was so I sat by myself and got good and ripped and threw my bottles at dudes trying to get them to fight me, but once I said Dixie they wouldn’t even talk to me no more. It was like that in the Army too, man, Dixie was the fucking sun.

And that dead boy that Dixie popped, I seen him sitting outside on one of them old bus benches bending over and puking, and he done it so many times I finally got up and went out and over to him and I said hey amigo you better watch your ass cause if a cop sees you he’s gonna run you in. And dead boy says they never come around here and he ain’t worried about it, and I told him he needed to get the fuck up and get walking, and I picked him up and got him on his feet and he weren’t nothing but bones, and he didn’t even ask me where we was going, he just let me pull him down the street into the dark and when he touched my boner I fucking let him have it, I mean I choked that fucker with my dick and he puked on my cock but I didn’t give a shit I was going off like a rocket OH FUCK YEAH! And then I hit him for getting sick on me and went back in the bar to clean up – and that’s when I saw Dixie playing pool and hot damn he was something to fucking see all right, as big a monster as he ever was and a bunch more too by the look, but right as I’m gonna walk up and say surprise, puke or no puke, that fucking dead boy goes right up to him and says something and Dixie walks off the game like he’s the kid’s fucking dog or some bullshit. And oh man, I was shitting bricks then, seeing that kid with Dixie and what he might be telling him. I got the fuck right out of there, you better believe it, trying to cover my face with my hands but he didn’t see me. But I saw them – I saw ol’ Dixieland kiss dead boy on the forehead like he was his daddy saying goodnight. And that was like a shotgun, just pow and all my air was gone. And that picture of them that the zombie gave me is just like that, only it don’t stop going off, just pow, pow, pow every time I look at it, which is all the time ‘cause I can’t stop. Dixie with them great big hands around dead boy and some bitch holding on to them tight and for real. It’s the three of them, that’s what’s important, that’s the part that’s beating the hell out of my head. Three of them. That’s the magic god damned number.