140Story - Day 61

 I'm writing a story 140 words at a time and posting the results here daily.  Can I sustain interest?  Will I lose the narrative thread?  Find out in this next installment of Bullets Ain't Cheap
       Sorry this installment is late, I've been busy. 

poured me my first two fingers of Scotch.  A good bartender knew when to shut up, and Scully was a hundred different kinds of good.
    I drained another one dry and set it carefully on the bar.  In my other hand I held the thumb drive Kelly had slipped me, turning it over and over.  It was a talisman, holding secrets I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
    I couldn’t go back to my place, Telrik had it wired like a switchboard, and since it had been dark for a while I was pretty sure the public library was closed
    “Hey Scully,” I called out, my slurred words surprising me.  I was pretty hammered after all.  “You got a computer around here?”

I blinked, and tried to focus on the screen.  Scully kept his computer in his office, as dark

Don't Answer That

I was in the convenience store the other day buying lotto tickets, when the lady behind me asked the clerk for a Swisher Sweet, 'grape flavor.'
   Just when I think I'm all smart and know lots of stuff, random crap will happen to make me realize I know absolutely nothing.
   I had no idea that Swisher Sweets - the cigar of choice for potheads the world over - came in flavored varieties. If you go to their web site (make sure you say you're over 18) and take a look you can see that not only do they have grape, they have peach, strawberry, menthol, tequila, and chocolate-flavored cigars too. I got to wondering just how bad grape-flavored nicotine would taste, and then I realized that I didn't really want an answer to that question. Some things are better left alone.

Here are some other questions I don't really need an answer to:

What are McNuggets, really?
   How many people have handled the twenties in my pocket?
When transvestites get all dolled up what do they with... you know... Mr. Johnson?
   What does a bruise look like under the skin?
Where does Kool-Aid powder come from?
   How many babies does it take to get a pint of baby oil?
What does it feel like when a hyena breaks your leg in its jaws?
   What does bubonic plague smell like?

I'm sure there are tons more things I'd rather stay ignorant of. I'll share more when I figure them out.

The Easter Snake

Years ago, one of my friends kept a pet python. I always kind of wondered how an eight-foot reticulated constrictor counted as a 'pet' but variety is the spice of life. When my friend - who shall remain nameless - went away to college in a different state, his father cared for the snake. This care consisted of a live meal every so often, once a week I believe, regular water and cage cleanings. The live meal, as you can imagine, was a rat. Come to find out, most rats sold are actually livestock, not pet animals. Who knew? Well, me, after my friend educated me in the local pet store.
   One summer my friend and I were engaged in something, practicing juggling, making a stop-motion film, eating, whatever college students do on summer break. We got to talking, and my friend's father came into the room. They exchanged a glance, and then his father decided to share a story. They told me that I was one of the few people they knew who would appreciate what they had to say, which was kind of flattering but also kind of alarming. I didn't know what they were going to say, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out. But it was too late, his father was already relating the tale.
   The prior Easter, which coincided with the snake's feeding time, my friend's father had given the snake... a bunny.
   As they suspected, I did appreciate the entirely fitting offering. And I promised that I wouldn't tell anyone else, a promise I kept faithfully. Until now.