To Kill A Reptile Scrap

Somewhere in the middle of a rotten sand dune in this God forsaken place called Scottdale, AZ., I saw the ultimate horror. These lizards and buzzards are driving me nuts man. I sat in this small housing devolopment watching these newbee’s make odobe homes. The mud spaltted on the wire frames like puke on asphault after a bad party. It was a horrible site watching these guys hump in the 110 degree heat all day for 5.50 an hour. The salve trade is alive and well in Scottsdale. The miserable swine just drive around in their air- conditioned cars yelling at the slaves. Most of them were working on Visas in search of the American Dream. The elusive American Dream, the only way to find it is to hump and hump and die, that is the American Dream. These poor bastards had no chance of seeing it, no chance at all. There is no sanity in the mist of insanity, there is no hope in a hopeless place.

That desert made me ill, my blood is way to thick for this kind of climate, and those fucking lizadrs mad me mad. By the second day of this field trip to hell I decided to take the lizard problem into my own hands. I took a nail gun and hunted down the scaly little fuckers. I was screaming incoherient babble from some other civilization like the Inca’s or the cave folks. By the second hour I was hot, tired and half mad with rage. Theses lizards were smart, I decided to study their habits, see how they live. The Newbee’s were just staring at me, like I was a freak, and I was a freak, but a freak with a mission. I needed to make the area lizzard free, no more of these things to haount me in my sleep. They were worse then the subway rats in New York City, at least the rats didn’t walk on me. God I loath those things. Somehow I decided I needed a little more fire power, so I grabed a newbee, and made a team asault tactic. The enemy is the the lizard. My comrade didn’t speak English at all, a severe disadvantage in the reptile wars. I could have spoken to the lizzard and got the same results, nothing but a blank stare into dreamland. Seeing I was in a real handicaped state now, I decided to dump him off in the outer rim, and let him hunt the reptile scum alone. As I crept around lookin for a victim I acentally shot two painters in the foot, opps, sorry mate. The owner saw my disterbance and my wepon and decided to call the pookey. I knew I was in trouble then, I had failed to get a scaled varmit killing lincence, highly ileagal in this part of the country. My only chace was to run, and run real fast. I had to get water and food for the journey back to Pheniox on foot, the sun is a scary beast at 3 pm. It made most men melt or spontainasly combust. I’ve seen it and it’s a scary site, just all of a sudden BAM!!!, blood and guts everywhere, the worst part is the poro sonofabitch has no idea he’s a gonner til its done. The smell is the worst, like burnt hair in a dryer, it just permeates everything, making the whole area smell like a kill house. The area is a death trap, it’s a sad thing, real sad.

My only real chance was to ditch the nail gun and take to the highway, and hitch for a person with either mercy or God in their life to pick me up. The desperation of the heat and the hate of the lizards began to make me revaluate my motives. Why was I here? How did I get here? Who was I looking for? Then I remembered it was Sadie, I was looking for Sadie. She was a chum of mine in Denver, and I lost her, she talked about going to Tuscon, or tuscan, I can’t remember the name of sand for God’s sake, grass yes, sand fuck no! Anyway I was here in this inhumane heat looking for her.

Circa Phoenix, Arizona 1997


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