The battle against the Tall White Aliens would be like none we had ever fought. Veggie was in no shape to fight and could only assist in planning, the Agency had to remain hands-off only funneling as much information through Fred as they could get past their superior officers and to make matters worse, the Tall Whites had established a headquarters in an empty high rise bank building in the middle of Downtown Greensboro where any all out assault would without a doubt, result in the loss of hundreds of human lives.
Donny determined that shrewd use of Search Engine Optimization and blogs like the East Greensboro Performing Arts Center would thwart their propaganda and alienate those who they had deceived into believing them. I went to work right away.
Fred had learned that the Tall White Aliens become distressed and confused when exposed to aboriginal forms of music such as Hip Hop and Bluegrass. Wooley suggested we call his brother Songbear and the Greasy Creek Ham Slammers with which I played many years ago. I wasn't sure if Seth and Zachary White wanted to relive that trauma or not but told Wooley to give Songbear a call.
Photo courtesy of Regina Nance Smith
We would need weapons we had never before used and some that had never been invented. Steve and Wooley spent much of their time wrapped up in weapons development. Not everything worked as planned and some things didn't work at all.
Of course we also needed money and lots of it. The news that the Wackemall corporate jet had been fully repaired pushed stock prices soaring to .05 cents per share but in effect the corporation was still broke and Us Machine and Cycle was hardly fairing much better. Funny thing about stock speculators, they buy and sell for the strangest reasons. I guess had I released the fact that the shop that repaired the plane was still holding it until we could afford to pay the outstanding bill the price of shares might have gone down.
The failed Evil Knievel Snake River attempt was playing on the television in the shop, some documentary about motorcycle dare devils and stunt men. We couldn't resist watching it again.
When the Wackemall 750 saw the failed Snake River jump he said, "Hey, Veggie, remember when we jumped the Mississippi River?"
"I sure do," Veggie replied, "That was a long time ago."
The motorcycle began reciting another of its many poems.
"We doubled back a mile or more
to get a running start,
Did a burn out, tire hot,
stressing every part.
I roared as fast as I could go...
"Well," Veggie laughed, "that's not exactly the way I remember it."
"It's not?" the motorcycle asked.
"No," Veggie answered, "you left out the part about how we landed so hard in that muddy Arkansas corn field that it took me two days to dig you out of the mud."
"But we made the jump, right? We cleared the mile wide Mississippi River from Tennessee to Arkansas, right?"
"We did," Veggie nodded.
"And you killed the corn, right?"
"Every single stalk."
"Then our mission was a success!"
"So Veggie," Fred asked, "Why didn't you ride across the bridge?"
"There was a traffic jam," Veggie replied, "I didn't want to wait."
"So instead you spent two days digging your talking motorcycle out of the Arkansas mud?" Fred asked.
"Back then it only spoke poetry," Veggie answered.
None of us knew what to say.
Continue to Performance-enhancing Drugs.
Donny determined that shrewd use of Search Engine Optimization and blogs like the East Greensboro Performing Arts Center would thwart their propaganda and alienate those who they had deceived into believing them. I went to work right away.
Fred had learned that the Tall White Aliens become distressed and confused when exposed to aboriginal forms of music such as Hip Hop and Bluegrass. Wooley suggested we call his brother Songbear and the Greasy Creek Ham Slammers with which I played many years ago. I wasn't sure if Seth and Zachary White wanted to relive that trauma or not but told Wooley to give Songbear a call.
Photo courtesy of Regina Nance Smith
We would need weapons we had never before used and some that had never been invented. Steve and Wooley spent much of their time wrapped up in weapons development. Not everything worked as planned and some things didn't work at all.
Of course we also needed money and lots of it. The news that the Wackemall corporate jet had been fully repaired pushed stock prices soaring to .05 cents per share but in effect the corporation was still broke and Us Machine and Cycle was hardly fairing much better. Funny thing about stock speculators, they buy and sell for the strangest reasons. I guess had I released the fact that the shop that repaired the plane was still holding it until we could afford to pay the outstanding bill the price of shares might have gone down.
The failed Evil Knievel Snake River attempt was playing on the television in the shop, some documentary about motorcycle dare devils and stunt men. We couldn't resist watching it again.
When the Wackemall 750 saw the failed Snake River jump he said, "Hey, Veggie, remember when we jumped the Mississippi River?"
"I sure do," Veggie replied, "That was a long time ago."
The motorcycle began reciting another of its many poems.
to get a running start,
Did a burn out, tire hot,
stressing every part.
I roared as fast as I could go...
"Well," Veggie laughed, "that's not exactly the way I remember it."
"It's not?" the motorcycle asked.
"No," Veggie answered, "you left out the part about how we landed so hard in that muddy Arkansas corn field that it took me two days to dig you out of the mud."
"But we made the jump, right? We cleared the mile wide Mississippi River from Tennessee to Arkansas, right?"
"We did," Veggie nodded.
"And you killed the corn, right?"
"Every single stalk."
"Then our mission was a success!"
"So Veggie," Fred asked, "Why didn't you ride across the bridge?"
"There was a traffic jam," Veggie replied, "I didn't want to wait."
"So instead you spent two days digging your talking motorcycle out of the Arkansas mud?" Fred asked.
"Back then it only spoke poetry," Veggie answered.
None of us knew what to say.
Continue to Performance-enhancing Drugs.
