Blood Sugar
Page 4
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Dick Trickle hates it when three youths come in simultaneous and hes got his beady eyes all over our asses. I get Dag to hand me Robbies chip and I wave that paper like a pimp. See this green? Im gonna buy all your candies, homes! Dick Trickle just shakes his old ass head like we stole the bills straight from his register. Whatever, man. Go back to policing your stupid smokes.
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First thing Dag always does is browse the beautiful papers for people to write letters. They have designs like flowers and blue skies and a dog sitting his dog ass on a beautiful beach. Dags sister Lotte doesnt have real internet in the nuthouse, so Dag writes letters old school and she likes them to look pretty so Lotte has pretty things to enjoy. Dag says in the psych ward the only TV and books they have are inspirational. I asked how about magazines and she said the only magazine they have is Oprah magazine. Dag says she writes to Lotte about me and Midget and all our adventures. It makes me so proud I can hardly explain it.
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But this isnt the time to be purchasing beautiful papers. No doubt Robbies filling Yellow Street with cuss words cuz a how late we are with his candies. But hold up. Oh, hell yes! Theres a whole aisle a Halloween masks, and Im sorry Robbie but masks this fine have got to be worn! Even though tonights Halloween Walgreens still got a nice big selection, probably cuz nobody comes to this crap ass Walgreen except when they need a jimmy hat or rash cream or something else real immediate.
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Dag puts on a rubber monster face almost as bad as Deformo. Dang, Dag! Take that scary junk off! Midgets hiding her frightened ass so I put on a discount Barack Obama head and go after little sister cuz this a good opportunity for education. Man, I love Barack Obama. Barack Obama is a straight up American hero. Dont tell anybody cuz theyd tease me but I like to think about Barack Obama being my dad. Like maybe he knew Moms before he got famous. Why the hell not? Some cool ass black dude with sharp ass robocop suits that talked super smooth and believed in my future and filled me with hope and change.
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I find Midge over by the cherry cough drops and lecture her how Barack Obama used to be the chief mightyducker of the whole US of A not to mention the stone cold robocop that killed the dude that did the twin towers. Little sister gets confused cuz usually Im lecturing her about the Two Towers from Lord of the Rings and now she probably thinks Barack Obama killed Sauron. Politics are mad complex.
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Nobody enjoys stank ass rubber tasting masks like Dag. Now shes a wolfman and then a devil and then an alien. Stuff is pricey, though. We add up our money and we dont have enough to even cover one mask, not if we get Robbie his candy. Dag chucks her mask on the floor with all the other masks she chucked. Midget starts cleaning them up but I yank her ass back. Hell, no. Dick Trickle can pick it up himself. Hes the one charging too much, aint he? For now though I keep wearing Barack Obama cuz it makes me feel good. Any terrorist I roll across is gonna get his ass wasted.
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Even though shes flinging masks Dag isnt upset for real and I know why. She has herself a secret costume shes been keeping secret. I been begging for clues for weeks but girlfriends skillful at keeping secrets. I bet shes constructing herself a princess thing or a fairy deal and is gonna show up tonight looking so fly Ill be like dang! There isnt hardly nothing Dag cant do. Ever since Lotte got her ass locked away Dags folks make her take lessons in every subject you can think of. She can tap dance like a mightyducker. Play the sharkweek out a some piano too. Shortys talented as hell!
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Thats when I have the idea to fix me a costume too. I know Dags been slaving on hers a whole month and I only have a few hours but the idea blows up my brain. Grishnákh! Bitch is my favorite ass orc! I know some internet robocops are preferential to Gorbag cuz a his armor, which I admit is sweet, but those are the same robocops that forget how Gorbag pussied out after Frodo got his Hobbit ass cocooned by Shelob and how that led to Gorbag getting impaled by Samwise Gamgee. Think about it, yo. Remember when Grishnákh disobeyed Uglúk and tried to eat Pippin and Merry and got himself speared? Dude didnt flinch at all. Grishnákhs just a short little killer like me but it took Treebeard to pop his ass, didnt it?
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So while Dags busy fishing Midget out of a bin a plastic snakes I scrounge me up some Grishnákh teeth and shove them down my snowboot. Grishnákh has a purple face so I scrounge me some face paint too. The purple is a little off. It isnt rotted skin purple. Its brighter. Its got a picture of a girl done up like a Care Bear. But I bet itll do all right. I rip it outta the pack and snowboot it. The final thing I need is a yellow wig but that isnt gonna happen. Even old ass Dick Trickle will notice if theres yellow hair poofing out my boot.
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Dags gonna poop her pants when she sees! Last winter I got shorty to watch the whole award winning saga. Took six weeks to get through cuz Dag kept forgetting to bring her laptop to Robbies and when she did she kept falling asleep. She said she wasnt bored, just confused. What I did was turn on the subtitles for education purposes. That didnt work either! I was elbowing her pretty much constant cuz important plot stuff goes down all the dang time in Lord of the Rings. Things got better once I said it was all right if she painted her nails or texted her mom, but honestly it made me wonder if she was even enjoying Peter Jacksons cinematic masterpiece. But she told me she did and that made me feel tight. No doubt she remembers Grishnákh. No doubt!
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We go to the candy aisle and the candy aisle is banging. Its got all your Halloween basics like Reeses Peanut Butter Pumpkins, Ghost Dots, Cadbury Screme Eggs, Pumpkin Peeps. Its got Brachs Party Mix which is great value for your dollar. Also Hershey Kiss Pumpkin Spice thats tasty as hell even though it sounds super gross. Best thing about Walgreen though is they stock crazy off brand junk too. Max o Malt and Choco Crisp plus Gummy Body Parts and Spooky Lip Pops and this interesting product called Blood Bag thats candified gel you squeeze out a tube. Im feeling supermilked just imagining the taste sensations.
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Me and my crew get a basket and load up. Midget wants Twirl Pops with spider and ghost designs. You dont got to ask twice, Midge! Dag wants her some ancient chalky old Twilight Sweethearts that are like normal Sweethearts except they have Twilight words like
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Now dont worry. We dont forget Robbies Fun Size Snickers. Dag, though, shes smarter than all our asses, especially fat boy, and she starts thinking logical. If Robbie really wants to put crack rock inside candy bars, he didnt choose very wise, did he? What do they say about Snickers on TV? They say Snickers are packed with peanuts! And if its packed with peanuts, theres not gonna be much room for crack rock, you know?
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Dag ponders for a bit and says what we need is Three Musketeer cuz Three Musketeer is like ninety percent nougat. Dags so intelligent I decide to ask her why she figures Robbie really wants to hand out drugged up candies in the first place and Dag just repeats how Robbie hates people cuz how they did him wrong in the past. Seems kind a overboard if you ask me but like I said shortys smarter than me by a mile so I go along. So we swap in Fun Size Three Musketeers and I feel so good about it I can take off Barack Obama without feeling too sad. I even wipe the inside of the mask on my pants cuz I dont want the next inspirational American that wears it to be catching pinkeye.
Dick Trickle
The register lines dragging balls. We have to wait behind all your regular fools. Cameltoe skanks and sports jersey bros. When we get next in line I tiptoe to peep the snap of Robbie they have taped up. But Midget starts pestering me with her hungry whine so I take out the Dubble Bubble. This time a year Dubble Bubble has sick styles like Slime Balls and Horror Eyes and little sister cant resist, so I rip open the bag and fetch her one. Dick Trickle frowns so hard I think his dentures are gonna pop out.
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Wheezy ass darth br
eather mightyducker scans our candies. What gets me provoked is how he looks at Dag and Midge. Like hes sympathetic to them on account a my sorry ass. Cuz Midgets a small ass little child? Cuz Dags got nice clothes and done up hair? Dick Trickle doesnt know the first dang thing about me! He doesnt know that back when Moms used to do stuff normal I looked more proper. He doesnt know that my pops was probably a Barack Obama robocop thats ten times the bad ass Dick Trickle is. And that means I am too. I got those Barack Obama genes inside me. Around Yellow Street, that gives me all the cred I need.
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When I whip out Robbies chip, Dick Trickle inspects it close with his thick ass glasses. Whats this dudes malfunction? I do my thug face but he just fronts with his scratched ass nametag and his veiny ass hands trembling cuz hes super old. He shakes his head like hes disappointed and bags our candies and sends our change down the change slide. Midget loves the change slide and Dag boosts her so she can catch it. That right there is childlike joy, yo. That sharkweek is priceless. And I cant even enjoy it, Im so heated. When I take the bag I say
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Believe, yo. I didnt think it would rile him up that much! Dick Trickle goes off like a warhead. Geezer reaches across the scanner and claws hold a my jean jacket. Candy bag falls right outta my hand. It takes a sec before I even know what the hell. Next thing I know Im flopping around like a fish but the old dude has fists a steel. He pulls me half on the counter and leans down his gnarly ass face and goes
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Where does he get off handling a juvenile like that? Im not crying. Im not. Dudes dog breath in my face is whats got me moisturized. All I know is Im yelling for Dag to hail down a uniform which is a crazy play considering all the Grishnákh gear Ive got snowbooted. My mind isnt right. Its all wrong. Its itching like crazy. I got my hand in my jacket where I keep my ninja stars and I can feel my six point kohga all sharp on my fingers. What am I gonna do with it? What am I gonna do? I dont know, I cant tell, I cant even tell.
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Dags the one that saves the day. She pulls my hand right outta the pocket. Right then Dick Trickle lets me go. My face is all hot and I know I must look like a pink faced bitch so I try to pop back and call him out. But all the tough ass sharkweek I want to say comes out all stuttery and stupid. Dudes not even paying attention. Hes staring all guilty over by the Slankets where theres this pissed looking white dude with a weak ass goatee and a beer belly and a nametag that says
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I get a laugh outta that! Manager isnt even Robbies age! And he looks like hes about to can Old Man Trickle. Probably has concerns I might sue their Walgreen asses. Dang straight! Moms has watched so many Judge Judys and Judge Mathises by now shes probably a expert at litigating and cross examining and all that. I think we should stick around and watch goatee manager man give Dick Trickle the business but Dags yanking my wrist and Midgets spitting out her Dubble Bubble and its true Im itching fierce. What I could use right now to chill me out is a big tall glass a supermilk.
Scrapbook
Can I be honest with you? After that crap with Gwendolyn and that Walgreen crap I feel better once we get past all the growling dozers and see Robbies great big dump castle. Feels like Im where no ones gonna tell me what I am and what Im not. First thing I always see when coming up the way is this big huge satellite dish from Robbies parents yesteryears. Its always full up with rain and Midget splashes around in there when its warm and her ass always comes out black and oily. I have to hose her down and she dances around in the hose water real funny. We make some special memories no doubt.
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Maybe its nasty but this crib feels more like home than home feels like home. I constructed a pleasant ass walking path out a tire flaps that have pictures a sexy women and Foghorn Leghorn and it goes from the satellite dish to a wall we built out a car batteries tall as hell. From time to time, Robbie comes out in his drawers to smoke and professors about those batteries. He says that right theres the negative terminal and thats the vent cap and thats the sediment chamber and Im like, bitch, nobody cares! This is our wall now and its kicking!
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Robbie keeps his rims around back. I know people are serious about rims, but even a architecture up and comer like me cant build anything good from them. Me and Dag and Midget prefer the mad junk nobody can comprehend how Robbies pops even knew how to fix. You ever seen a typewriter? Man, its nuts. Theres a saxophone back there too. Still gold but you cant make it play. Robbie says its missing a reed so Midge and me took it apart. The typewriter too. We spread all the whole alphabet across this weird table that has all these cranks and dials. You just know Robbie had to act smart about that too. He says its a lithographic press. Fat boy, what? Shut the hell up before you embarrass yourself.
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Truth is though Robbies crib educates better than school. Hes got a depth gauge from some kind a deep sea deal. Also a bridle that you put on a dang horse. Also a sundial so old its like from Jesus times. One of the baddest objects I found personally is a electrical meter. You have to unscrew about fifty screws and that takes dedication but then you get to see a million little gears and coils and technologies hid inside.
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Picking through all that junk is relaxing. It makes me recollect when I used to see Miss Poole the school psychiatrist every Tuesday before she gave up. Miss Poole was a real nice latina lady with interesting titties that started counseling my troubled ass after I tried to help pull out a kids loose tooth with the arts and crafts scissors. Miss Pooles main job was inventing stuff to calm down my itch. Breathing yoga style and counting ass backward and imagining a boat in a lake, all kinds a funny junk. Well, Miss Poole, this electrical meter does the trick. Messing with all the complicated parts makes me want to go get a job in science so I can hypothesize concepts and theories and experiments.
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When you play with this junk you imagine it being all bright and new like it used to be. Robbie cant fix nothing. Hes a grown ass adult and far as I know he dont have a single dang talent. He told me once hes not worried cuz hes got an aunt who won an internet contest for a house on a caribbean island but the aunts too sick to use it and said Robbie can have it since hes blood. Only Robbie cant claim it just yet because of tax reasons and government rules and this problem he calls red tape. Robbie says he has email proof and everything. I dont know. I havent seen it.
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Truth is, I got worries. Punk ass bitch hasnt had income since Little Lamb left. Been a year at least. Even though I dig his crib the situation inside is bleak. Some weeks theres no power. Some weeks theres no water. When the toilets are dry me and Midget have to go squat in the backyard garbage. Dominos and Hardees and Dunkin Donuts trash tall as your ass. Of course theres flies too but I guess for Midge thats a bonus.
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What Im sick a most is the mice. Its like Robbies parents left Robbie the house and he couldnt even keep hold of it. The mice stole it right from him. They rule the whole thing now even if you cant hardly see them under the trash. I step on one of their wiggly little asses about once a week. You ever hear a mouse scream? Sharkweek like that will give you nightmares. Believe.
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One time I reached in one a the holes in the wall cuz I guess Im a stupid bitch. Robbies walls have holes all over from when he gets mad and karates everything. Anyway I reached in and it felt like hot mac and cheese but it ended up being a nest a mice, tiny pink babies with skin like bruises and that dont have eyes yet. It made me almost throw up so I found some McDonald salt packs and poured it all over those yucky little bitches cuz I know thats how you melt a snail. N
ext time I checked all there was was bones. But Robbie said it wasnt the salt that did it, it was cuz the bigger mice eat the littler mice. Was that supposed to make me feel better?
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Robbies on his own dealing with the mice and all a his other problems cuz like I said, Robbies folks, wherever they are, dont talk to him. Lately Robbies been pawning his dads clocks, so you know his financials are rough. The clocks are the best dang things in the entire whole house. Ask anybody that lives on Yellow Street and theyll tell you how this situations gonna play out. One day the city will haul Robbies furniture and what clocks hes got left to the curb and board up the joint. What happens to Robbie then? Where are me and Midge and Dag supposed to go after that? Maybe its a positive thing the dozers are bashing closer every day.
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A while back, I dropped my push pop in Robbies parents old room and when I reached under the trash I found this giant size scrapbook with materials from Robbies fabulous youth. Tons a newspaper clips and snaps of him in a bad ass helmet and awards that said
Apples
Robbie promised us, he did, I remember it perfect, he said take your asses to Walgreen and fetch me my candies and Ill fix you supermilks. But that promise does not occur. Instead he treats our bag a candy like its a bag a dog crap. Fat boy tosses it on the counter beside his beer empties and soft packs. Then he snaps his fingers for his change. Thats straight up rude cuz Midgets real excited about having change and its not worth upsetting a tiny little child for sixty two stupid cents. Midge doesnt ever cry but I can tell when shes sad. After all I live with the bitch.