dateline: toldeo, ohio

[henceforth, al coholic will be referred to as dr. wayward johnson. considering his recent exploits with the judge’s daughter, his new moniker is way more appropriate.]


while colonel dickhead [a.k.a., you guessed it, wayward johnson] wrapped his greasy paws around the judge’s daughter, i had to proofread her friends’ freshman english essays. that’s freshman: college and not freshman: high school. knowing dr. j’s reputation as a profligate, licentious, and immoral creature, i will forgive you. honest mistake.

for my time, effort, undivided attention, and unsurpassed ability to weave words like a river bends [dig it, baby], they invited me to a ‘rockin’ republican rally’ on the local campus, sponsored by the school’s young republicans.

i swear to god i got a boner.

i summoned the doctor at once, for there were many supplies necessary to cover such a musical event. we headed to the local strip mall and it’s pet store. our plan was to purchase as many live and frozen rats as possible, a simple plan for sure. what made the pet store semi-unique was its pair of angry ass-monkeys and a goat. the monkeys – maybe…but a goat is not a common sight in a strip mall.

dr. johnson made a comment about feeding the goat to his dog. the store manager overheard dr.j and demanded an immediate apology. there were a number of kids within earshot, and i suppose the manager was looking out for their best interest.

“excuse me, sir, but i think you owe these children an apology.”

“for what?”

“for your comment about the goat. he is practically a legend in this community…”

“you’re absolutely right. i do owe them something. can you hang onto this for a minute?”

and with that, dr. johnson handed the sack of frozen rats [you know, for pet constrictors] and the large carry-all of live ones to the teenage clerk behind the counter. that’s when i realized that the possibility of physical and mental breakdown was now very real. no sympathy for the devil, keep that in mind. buy the ticket, take the ride…


i could feel what was seething and i got his dog out of the car without speaking and walked with that foul beast [and the dog] back into the mall, past clusters of bewildered shoppers, families eating ice cream, old ladies on electric scooters. most stopped and craned their necks and a few followed at a comfortable distance. in such situations, it is best to walk at a brisk pace but not too quickly. walk with the purpose befitting the occasion. do not look anyone in the eye but do not look away. remember, you are a professional…

dr. j’s dog had no name and that was just as well. it was trained and well cared for, responding viciously when provoked and brutally when commanded. dr. johnson continued into the store while i stood on the side of the counter with the dog, his eyes fixed on the manager’s crotch.

“what are you doing? you can’t…”

all i had to say was “nixon.”

the dog pulled at the leash and raised his chest, all bared teeth and slobber, hell-bent on freedom and the manager’s nuts.

“make one move, fat man, and i’m lettin’ the dog loose.”

dr. wayward johnson was removing every animal from it’s cage…he didn’t fuck with the fish though, for chrissakes, this man had a heart. finches and parakeets, chinchillas and gerbils, scorpions, tarantulas, pythons, geckoes, hermit crabs, iguanas, dogs and cats living together…total anarchy. you name it, he was lettin’ it loose.

a crowd was gathering that included the mall cops, but come on, they’re only mall cops. all they could do was call the real cops, and unless a cruiser was driving near the entrance, i figured we had at least fifteen minutes before the cops arrived. besides, i was nearly drunk with power. i felt like – i don’t know – one of those gangster rappers or something. i had this fucking angry pitbull who dr. j trained to go completely nuts whenever someone mentions a republican. i paced in front of the store, givin’ bitches looks like they were the next one to get punched in the fuckin’ face. i even sicced [verb – to urge or incite to hostile action…past tense] the dog on the goat, but i only let in nip it in the ass. the goat broke free from its enclosure and butted a few old ladies in the rear before it ran into the mall, followed by – you guessed it – the security guards.

wayward dickhead brought the satchel of rats to the counter, you know, to let the manager ring them up. but all the fatman could do was splutter and blubber. he must have caught the fear…thought we were capable of some serious violence.

perhaps…but what he learned is that the doktor is utterly incapable of an apology.