I got put in jail for Christmas.
It wasn’t anything I wanted, believe me. But, when you have had enough, you have had enough and sometimes you got to act.
See, on Christmas Eve, momma was cooking Christmas dinner and needed another box of Jiffy Corn Muffin mix for the corn casserole because she used the last box for the corn casserole on Thanksgiving.
So I go out and get into the automotive perfection that is the Love Turtle. The Love Turtle is my mint condition 1981 AMC Pacer. Its painted baboon-butt red with flames down the side. Yeah, its pretty sweet and it ain’t for sale.
Anywho, I drove over to the Piggly Wiggly to get some Jiffy Corn Muffin mix for momma’s corn casserole. I wasn’t wanting no trouble.
But there this dude was. He was one of those bell ringers. Now, I know the money goes to help folks. I do. But, they need to rethink their marketing approach. Ringing a bell, CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG is fine the first couple of times, but starts to get on my nerves after the fourth or fifth week.
But this fella ringing the bell outside the Piggly Wiggly crossed the line from bell ringing to something obscene.
I ain’t no angel. I gotta tell you that, but this man was doing this in front of women, children and impressionable pets. He was ringing and singing a medley of Justin Bieber songs.
I must have blacked out because the next thing I know, I am being cuffed and stuffed and taken to the county lock-up. According to some who witnessed the event, it was reported that somewhere during the chorus of “Baby, Baby” I allegedly lost it. Apparently, he had to have the bell surgically removed.
I have no clear recollection. That’s what my lawyer, Lowber Wilcox says to say anyway.
Lowber is a good lawyer, because his picture is on the back of the phone book. I bet they don’t let just any lawyer put their face on the back of a phone book. He says he can probably get me off with some community service and a fine.
You meet some real interesting people in jail. I met a guy named Rufus who was in jail because he has a real interest in home chemistry. Rufus’ hobbies also included shaking like a dog trying to pass a pine cone, not sleeping, and losing his teeth.
There was a guy named Jackson waiting in the jail there before he went to Federal court because he appreciated art. Art that looks like twenty dollar bills. He was making his own.
Then there was a guy in there from a motorcycle gang, and he made quite an impression on us. He impressed on us to give him our desserts, tobacco products, and pretty much anything else he wanted. And we were glad to do it, because Mr. Bonecrusher was a fine gentleman and only beat on us when we had it coming. You know, like when our shadow would touch his shadow and for breathing the same air. All very good reasons for mopping the floors with our faces.
And I am certain that there is no way that Mr. Bonecrusher could have chopped up an entire family and set their house on fire.
And Mr. Bonecrusher, if you are reading this and are upset in anyway, my actual real name is Lute Fenwick.
