the Life-Size Mousetrap
welcome to Pedal Monster
Reina Terror and the Huffy Toss trophy
Monster stage (featuring Hammer Horror Classics)
Gary’s art car
she got the bike back. Dejected, he eventually pulled his pants up
this is how it always ends.
As it stands now, yesterday, on the Day After Pedal Monster, after wrangling money and clipboards and costume changes and happy cycle-freak drunks until dawn, we got our first full night’s sleep and woke up at 4pm.
Then we went to the Drunkyard to help strike everything, and cleaned the shaving-cream-and-flour “pie” bits from the yard, and the broken glass from the BB gun shooting range, and the whippet containers and wilted beer cans kicked behind every pallet and 50-gallon drum on our modern-day Sanford and Son fantasy-lot …
Then we crushed the other end of the car under the 2-ton bank safe under the Mousetrap’s 30-foot crane, and then the car still started after that — when we didn’t have any ether so we poured Tic Tac, the national drink of El Salvador, in the carburetor — and we rode it on idle all around Ace’s strangely-clean pavement and then smashed the windshield with sledgehammers and Texas Toothpicks.
And then we had more Pabst and hot dogs for dinner, naturally. And pushed our own dead-battery car out to the middle of the street so we could jump it with Mark’s car and drive home to unpack the circus tinsel and all the other junk and put away the Dead Babies’ guest beds and finally take an epsom salt bath.
Til next time – ride it like you stole the parts for it & welded it together yourself
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