Monday, November 22, 2010

Yaar.

She stooped to thumb the silver dollar from out the plank like a real rube, her knees vised to keep the candyWrapper she had on for skirts real taut- immune to pranks.
Old Forstner did his bit, and whistled like a channelLipped mule at the sight, and we all guffawed and flapped our arms and legs. The nerve!
A real rube.
The silver dollar made a SNAP when it left the plank- hidden in the floorboard entire- invisible- before Dale had commenced fucking with the rolling trestle that supported the organ on the dais to their left.

Dale managed to break a caster, and the whole damn cabinet, keyboards and stops, careened slowly up and tipped off the dais, crushing hell out of the floorPlanks and two chairs beneath the stained glass window of Mark, or Luke, or some such bastard.
It was a gas, breaking the cabinet apart and generally thrashing about. We bobbed our heads and zagged our legs- our elbows up, our hipbones pegged.
And then she stooped to thumb the silver dollar from out the plank.

It wasn't a silver dollar. Not really. It was a silver piece minted from bouillon by some Spanish bastard on the Keys in the 18th century. Having melted all his shit down and barred it up for burying, this old Spanish bastard didn't have any currency small enough for the quotidiana. The little things in life.
He was Puff Daddy in a Kwik E Mart that took no hundred dollar bills.
So he struck 218 silver marks, three grams each, and just that morning, after skewering the blacksmith and his page with his sword-thingie, this old Spanish bastard took the first silver mark his fingers touched and hammered it into a crack in a cedar with the butt of his great silly pistol.
He pressed his lips against the shredding cedar bark and left the Keys forever, by boat, in another story. That story, incidentally, is much more interesting, and has some cannon fire and a lot of excellent singing.

So when this rube comes out from hiding from the big kee-RASH of organs crushing lesser things, what does she see but a grimy coin revealed with gleaming scratched new surface standing proudly out amid a solid prison of old cedar-Wood, a swamp-Plank cut in 1973 to build the Presbyterians their crazy sideways church.
Hidden! age on age inside the tree, that old Spanish bastard's first-Struck coin reveals itself to plunderers New in centuries Bold
She stoops to thumb the silver dollar from out the plank and SNAP and
She drops dead; the rube.

Never touch a motherfucking pirate's booty.

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