Category Archives: Essayish

The Killers


Cut through Wright’s back yard. Hurry. Far side. Creep along hedges trimmed so sharp could slice me. Don’t wake Goliath.

Killers meeting at The Big Rock=was awesome. The Killers killed themselves. Ha. Beechum had bodes. Benson & Hedges. Stolen. From Country Cupboard. JIF for breath. The chant: ‘Killers! Killers! Killers!’ rocking back and forth, faster and faster. Until, at the end: ‘The Killers killed themselves!’ Ha. The Killers rule. Already.

Dumb to be rushing. Hugely illogical. Gonna sneak back out anyway.  Cellar door? Nope. Bedroom. Hang out window, stretch down side, drop. Bushes=break fall. Oh, yeah. That one time: Got drunk on Crème De Menthe. Reese puked. Out window. Kept going back and forth. To bathroom. Filling up flower can. Pouring down side of house. Over and over. Puke stain=still there. Crème De Menthe color.

Goliath! Ah! Get away, Goliath! Jesus! Shut up, Goliath! Bust through line of pine trees. Can’t come. Goliath. Collar. Fence. Invisible. Shocks. Barks, high-pitched. Crying. Sorry, Goliath!

Killers will make plans, do gang stuff. Same stuff, maybe. Probably. Most likely. But a gang now, so cooler. Garage-hopping? Sheesh. That one time: Marchwood. Bald guy opened door on Beech. Had his hands on case of Corona! Came running with case. Empties? Threw on sidewalk. Smashed SO LOUD. Lights flicking on all over place. Ran into woods, dying. Bald guy chased Beechy. Through to Liongate. Lucky: sprinklers. Ten at night? Bald dude slipped on wet grass. Crazy! Got away. Found us. Reese had pot. Ate entire box of Bit-o-Honey. Stolen. From Country Cupboard.

Chaos Runs? Oh, yes. Definitely. Tell moms and dads going out jogging for practice/shaping up for sports teams/events. Do chaos instead. Wait. No one does sports. Wait! Beechum on track team, so jogging believable. Plus, general health. Worked that one time: MATOH. Meet-At-Top-of-Hill. Me, Beechy, Chris and Reese. Climb up Bode Tree for a bode. Figure stuff out, what chaos. Bode=code. MATOH at Bode Tree, smoke a few bodes, decide on chaos. Beech crapped in a plastic bag. On ground, not up in tree. Ha. Oh, yeah. Chris=had to sneak back into house. To grab Ziploc. JIF for bode breathalizer, but MaryAnne snagged him. In the kitchen. What’s Ziploc for? Freaking interrogating him! Collecting rocks. Whatever. Who cares. What rocks to collect? In this neighborhood? Crystals? No crystals! Ten at night? Why need Ziploc to collect rocks? How can see rocks at night without flashlight? Supposed to be jogging? Put on raincoat. Ten percent chance of rain? WHATEVER MARYANNE. MaryAnne=so paranoid. Oh, yeah. That one time: Said be careful with BB guns. Beech blasted Chris in face. Ha. BB never came out! Rub his cheek. Wiggles beneath fingers. Creepy. MaryAnne right about BB guns. I guess. About not pointing them. Into each other’s faces. Still, jog in raincoat? Weren’t even jogging! What.the.hell. MaryAnne didn’t know that. Whatever. Fine! Put on raincoat. Take flashlight. Finally let him go. Came running out like spaz in stupid yellow raincoat. Whipped out Ziploc=like a hero. Beechy went behind rhododendrons. Crapped in it. Ditched raincoat. Chris did. Took Ziploc of Beech crap into Fox Run. Didn’t light on fire. First time. Forgot. Dropped on random porch and rang bell. Ran. Chinese guy came out. Maybe not Chinese? Spotted it. Like was expecting it. Or something. Didn’t stomp on it, like supposed to. Wasn’t on fire. No reason to stomp. Just looked, disappointed? Tired? Closed door. Didn’t clean up! Guess needed rest. Saving cleaning for next day? Weren’t The Killers. Not then. Killers will light bag of crap on fire! Next level. Killers taking things to next level! Remember: Make sure can light bag of Beechum crap on fire. Make sure crap bag flammable.

Into Bridlewood. Fly down dirt path between neighborhoods. Quicker. So late. Definitely in trouble. Just matter of how much. Matter of degree.

Oh, yeah. That other time Beech crapped in Ziploc=Shit Sling. Ah! Reese mowing lawn. Tied rope around bag, for hucking. Named it Shit Sling. Announced ‘this is my Shit Sling!’ Kept throwing Shit Sling at Reese over and over on mower. Crap never came out of Ziploc! Vacuum sealed. Like supposed to be. Kept whipping it at him, nonstop! Reese=hugely pissed. Ran over Ziploc with mower. Mower just chopped up bag. A little bit. Shit Sling still largely intact! Beechy got it, threw again. Blasted open. Crap all over Reesey’s leg. Jumped off mower screaming and ran into house. Reesey did. Mower kept going! Beech jumped on to stop it!

What else? What else? Whip iceballs at cars=seems like gang thing? Killers cut up through woods to edge of 202? That one time: Crazy. Funny. Guilty feeling in chest. About: Might cause accident/kill motorist/go to slammer? Maybe ok? Gangs cause accidents/go to slammers. Now that Killers, ok to cause accidents/go to slammers?

The Killers=MATOH later at Bode Tree. Get ideas. Mess with Poncho? Last time: Beech made Anna hold flashlight. Chased Poncho around field, whipping spaghetti at it. Horses just stood there. Staring. Superior. Seemed fine. With Poncho getting spaghetti thrown at it. Ha. Cow tipping? Oh, yeah. Last time: No one had balls. Realized: pussies when comes to: actually tipping cows. Crap-ton of cows came herding toward us. Slowly. Maybe just wanted food? Like, farmer usually feeds them, and they come. Maybe even happy to see us? Maybe were like: getting fed at midnight, bonus! Seemed like zombie/evil cow herd. To us. Booked it out of there. Killers=will have balls to tip cow and face zombie cow herd! Maybe can pet cows also. If feed them. Cows like carrots? No, horses. Celery? Remember: Bring carrots and celery. In case cows like. If Killers tip cows. So can pet ones not tipped.

Maybe invite Jake. To MATOH. Older. Told us to form The Killers. Helped us make chant: Killers! Killers! Killers! Killers! rocking back and forth until dizzy/out of breath. Then collapse and say: THE KILLERS KILLED THEMSELVES! Ha. Jake=awesome. Rock band! Played Lionville talent show. Drums and electric guitars. Everything! Performed song. Wrote himself! ‘Perilous Path.’

Perilous Path,

It’s a Perilous Path

I’m runnin’, runnin’, runnin’!

Perilous Path,

It’s a Perilous Path

I’m runnin’, runnin’, runnin’!

Want to play guitar. Mom forcing violin. Begged to take violin. Mom says. Need to see through. Blah blah blah. Who cares? Realize: HATE violin. Need to try things to realize: hate them. But now realize: hate. Like putting on resin. Weird/cool how sticks but doesn’t stick. Makes bow slick but tuggy. Last lesson: Ran up street. Hid behind pine trees across from Bode Tree. Mom came into trees? So weird. We’re all hurting. Mom said. What? Crying? Just don’t want to go to stupid violin lesson. GUITAR! GUITAR! GUITAR!

Jake=awesome. Hair under arms and above peen. No one in school has hair there. No one! Oh, yeah. That one time: Showed us in basement. Mom came down. Almost when Jake showing off peen hair. Whew! Brought microwave chicken nuggets. Freezer taste. Basement freezer=leaks. Still good if smother with ranch dressing. Jake showed peen hair. Then how to make our peens stiff. Then said: You guys should form gang. Call it The Killers. What’s a cool gang name? The Killers. That’s the name of your gang. Now just need to make up chant. Not when peens stiff. After. Went into ping-pong room. Jake. Told us to stay in TV room. Then yelled: Come in! COME IN HERE RIGHT NOW! Ran in. Had his peen stiff. Smiling huge. Peed into own mouth! Some got on ping pong table. Also on workout machine Dad never uses. Jake: whatever you do, don’t tell your older brother. Friends with Brian. Not really with us. Embarrassed about peeing into own mouth even though super funny? Put peen away. Ping pong tournament. I won! Beech so mad! Cried. So competitive. Parents international businesspeople. Or what have you. Beech: You practice all the time, no fair, you cheated on that one – blah blah blah. Not true! Hardly play. Beech=just sucks. At ping pong. Had to leave for Dan Powers’s house. Beechy did. Taking care of Churchill while Powerses in Italy. Smelly. Churchill. Everybody went with. Raided pantry. Tons of candy. Let Dan eat all he wants? Bailey’s Irish Cream. Filled back up with milk. To same line. Went into Powers’s basement. To play pool. Beech crapped on pool table. Wait! On Better Homes and Gardens magazine on pool table. Put cue ball in crap-on-top-of-magazine. Beechy. Chased Reese around Powers’s house with pool ball. Like the time with Shit Sling. What’s up with Beechy? Reese=pissed/laughing. Drunk on Bailey’s Irish Cream. Beech got crap on himself. By accident. Chasing Reese with crappy pool ball. Started screaming. Totally like a girl. Ran to Powers’s bathroom. Took shower screaming. Later: Cheryl Travis came over. Changed. Went in Powers’s hot tub. Beechum stood up. Whipped down pants. Showed his peen to Cheryl.

Close now. Top of hill. Stash bodes at Bode Tree by MATOH spot. Grab JIF from nook. Scoop a glop. Rub around mouth and gums. All set.

The Killers=name of break-dance crew? No. Not good for break dance crew. Remember for next MATOH: Think of name for break dance crew. Oh, yeah. That one time: Breakdance recital at Hoss’s=was awesome. Reese’s name? Turbo. Brian=OzoneBeat Street cooler than Breakin’, but Turbo and Ozone cooler breakin’ names. Me=Dr. Pop. Specialize in poppin’ and lockin’. Can’t do windmill like Reese/Turbo, but can bust out decent worm. On top of poppin’ and lockin’ skills. Chris’s mom=had to be there. Of course. WHATEVER MARYANNE! Ah! Made him wear knee pads and elbow pads? Not cool. Chris=Gizmo. Parents sat by pool. Cardboard. Outfits and parachute pants. Real crew! Parachute pants slide against cardboard. Boom box, but only had Zeppelin. Remember for MATOH: Everybody bring money to buy breakdance tape. For next breakdance recital. Oh, yeah. Ms. Hoss got up from deck chair. Threw change at us. Parents were dying. Reached in pockets/purses throwing change at us. No problem for me. Dr. Pop specializes in poppin’ and lockin’. Couldn’t do worm, though. Turbo couldn’t do windmill on top of change. Nickel lodged in back. Stormed off. Crying. Still a bruise. Size of nickel. Parents super sorry. Tried to pick up change. Beech pushed them away. Grabbed change. Beechum=Break Dance Crew manager. Looks out for ‘fiscal interests’? Turbo crying. Stopped Zeppelin tape. Breakdance recital=over. Beech and Gizmo went swimming. Turbo and me went inside. Played Ultima III on Apple. Freaking awesome. D&D on computer. D&D=Can’t believe Thorin died! Still hurts. Dwarf fighter-thief. Frustrating! Carrion Crawler. Came.out.of.absolutely.nowhere. Brian lets dead characters be alive again. Dungeon Master. Brian is. If feels sorry for you. That one time: Let Chris’s magic-user Gaywad be alive after ‘ripped to innumerable shreds’ by Werebear. But wouldn’t let me/Thorin be alive again! So freaking mad! Cried. Ran upstairs. Ate French Bread Pizza and Fruit Rollup. Felt better. Went back down. New character. Elven-Cleric. Neutral-Evil. Thorin also. Feel good about new Thorin. New Thorin=will be better than old Thorin.

Shoot down dirt path between woods and Dinan’s. Slippery/muddy. Perilous path. Ha. Perilous path, it’s a perilous path, I’m runnin’, runnin’, runnin’!

At yard. Peek through rhododendrons. Lights on? Yes. OF COURSE. Crap!

Shouldn’t be scared. Gang members=not scared of anything. In The Killers now! Say chant for courage. Rocking back and forth on ground behind rhododendrons:








The Killers killed themselves…

Khakis all wet. Grass stain? Mom can Shout out. Hopefully. Gang confidence=makes not scared. Brave to front door. Mom’s there. Smiling? Some man. Mom’s all smiles, super nice. Stay up as late as you want! Mom says. Watch Lord of the Rings cartoon? Awesome! Not cartoon, mom. Rotoscoping. Get it right. Gang confidence=makes people treat with respect. Weird man’s name=Jerry. Mom all nervous? Tell about Honors French! Mom says. How put you in Japanese Pilot Program! How one of only five students chosen in whole school! Tell him! I tell. Like parrot. Tell about science camp, about the ROCKET! Mom says. But the rocket wouldn’t fly! But learned so much! Tell him! I tell. Parrot.

Jerry=super impressed. Smiles huge. Business trip? Again? Who cares. Off the hook! Makes me plate of chicken nuggets. Jerry does. Microwave ancient! Mom says. Jerry, put in a minute longer than says on box. Wouldn’t rather have Steak-Umms? Jerry: Yeah! Rather have Steak-Umms? Share steak sandwich? Split one, bud? Guess not. Love your chicken nuggets! Mom must have told him. Squirts ketchup on side. For dipping. No ranch dressing? Like I like. Like Mom knows I like? Mom=didn’t tell him about ranch dressing part. Doesn’t fix it. Keeps smiling huge. Mom does. Jerry, too. Doesn’t get ranch dressing. No one gets ranch dressing. Not one person jumps for ranch dressing. Ketchup on Steak-Umms. Ranch dressing on chicken nuggets. Get it right. Not hard.

Sit on couch! Mom says. Why in such massive rush? Why not get to know each other. A little bit? I say, why get to know each other a little bit? In head. Plop down on couch. Plate of chicken nuggets=in lap. Getting cold. Don’t want to eat until watching Lord of The Rings. Don’t want waste chicken nugget session distracted by Mom and Jerry. Mom and Jerry. Ha. Jerry a great, great friend. Mom says. From work. Who spending a lot of time with. Awesome friend. Lately. Becoming very close. Very good man. So funny! One time held teddy bear hostage! The one I keep in my cube! Sent ransom pictures. From cube. Next cube over. Ransom note and everything! Didn’t you, Jerry! Jerry: needed excuse to talk to your mother! Jerry SO hilarious. Mom says. Also very practical and serious. When needs to be. Very respected at office. Super reliable, with perfect attendance. Right Jerry? Never seen out sick, Jerry! Never! Jerry: Have good constitution! Thank my mother for that! Built like tank! Ha! Not that she looks like tank. Well. Sort of. Looks like tank, actually. In certain ways, tank-like. Oh, stop it. Mom says. Steven! Isn’t Jerry super funny? But can also tell loves and respects his mother?

Jerry leans in. At me. Hand on wrist? Almost tips chicken nuggets? Steven. Can call you Steve? Steve-O! Ha! Call him Dr. Pep! Mom says. Dies laughing. Mom does. Don’t laugh. Don’t correct. Dr. Pop=doesn’t need to explain himself. Also gang member now. Members of The Killers=don’t need to explain selves. Jerry: Steve-O. Want us to be friends. Have tons in common! Like skiing? Oh, STEVEN! Mom says. You don’t like skiing! You love it! Ha! Jerry: Steve-O, like skiing? Nod. Chicken nuggets getting cold, Jerry. Jerry: I like tennis. Oh! Mom says. Steven! You love tennis! Tell Jerry how love tennis! Both love tennis! That’s so coooowal! Tell him, Steven!

Don’t tell Jerry about tennis. About liking it.

Jerry: Guess what, Steve-O? Hear you like guitar? Oh, wait! Mom says. Going to love this! Not going to believe this! Steven, going to FREAK OUT when hear this! Jerry: I know guitar. Played in Steely Dan cover band. Extensively. In tri-state area. Can teach you guitar! WHAT?!? Yells Mom. Did I hear right? Oh, wow! Oh, WOW STEVEN! Jerry: Will be spending more time here. Probably. Most likely. Definitely. If that’s ok with you. In next few weeks. Maybe longer. Probably. Most stuff already here, so convenient. May stay tonight. Like sleepover! If comfortable. For you. Can always call taxi. Although, very expensive. Live in city and taxi from here very, very expensive. Can teach you guitar and skiing and tennis. Would like that very much. Veryveryvery much. Like that, bud? What do you say?

Chicken nuggets getting cold! Want Jake to teach guitar. Not creepy old dude! WOW! Mom says. That’s so nice! Now I’M freaking out! So, so nice of Jerry! Willing to teach you guitar? WOW! Steven. Did you hear that? Jerry just said teach you guitar! Isn’t that so coooowal?

Want Jake to teach me guitar. Has hair on peen and gang founder and can pee in own mouth for huge laughs.

Think of Jerry as Uncle? Mom says. Maybe you could? Uncle Jerry! Nice ring, doesn’t it? Steven? Like your other Uncle Jerry! Two Uncle Jerry’s! Ha! Jerry: Can’t have too many uncles, Steve-O! Remember that one time. Mom says. Uncle Jerry’s cabin? You boys took Brut. From bathroom. Oh, Jerry! You gotta hear this! Tell him, Steven! Ok, I’ll tell. So naughty. Boys took Brut from Uncle Jerry’s bathroom. Chased each other around cabin. Whipping drops of Brut at each other. Remember? Steven? Tell him! Steven tells so much better! Poured Brut all over inside of Uncle Jerry’s sleeping bag. Won’t do that to new Uncle Jerry. Will you. Steven? Ha! Jerry: Don’t mind if do that to me! Love Brut. Use Brut! Therefore, wouldn’t mind! Ha! Have Brut on right now! Take a sniff, bud! Steve-O! No? Steven! Mom says. Being rude! Jerry asking you to smell him. Steven! It’s ok, now. Smell Jerry. Being incredibly rude! Jerry asking very politely to smell him. STEVEN WHAT’S HARM IN SMELLING JERRY?

Me=trying not to get upset about ranch dressing. Pissed. Fuming. Feel like=might cry. Mom knows! Ketchup ok, but ranch dressing WAY better. Get it right. Not hard. Close down. Let ketchup/ranch dressing/chicken nugget thing go. Squash it. Fine! Lean in. Smell Jerry. Smells like creepy Uncle Jerry. Jerry pushing me up stairs. Suddenly. Out of nowhere. Jerry: Enjoy The Hobbit, Dr. Pep! Love those little rascals! Oh, yes! Forgot to mention! Lots of Steely Dan lyrics based on dragons/wizards. Know that? Well, true! Should sit down over Steak-Umm sandwich, bud. Really hang out.

Not watching The Hobbit! Jerry. Watching Lord of the Rings. ERT! Get it right! Not hard! Chicken nuggets better not taste like freezer. JERRY. OR ELSE. You=have no idea what The Killers are capable of.



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