Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

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Location: Texas, United States

Friday, March 21, 2014

Fishy Dreams

Next Time, I'll Try The Shrimp

'Tis the Lenten season, therefore every purveyor of fast food has a variety or two of fish sandwiches on special. 

For all the folks giving up meat for the season, they have some mackerel for their snapper.  The rest of us just get an additional menu item.

Still, a non-stop diet of dead cow does no one any good, so I've been sampling the alleged filets of deep-sea fishies.

Best of the bunch so far has been Burger King's Deluxe fish sammich.  Had a couple last night.

And, of course, had some really, really effed up dreams.

Dunno if I can blame it on the fish, but why not...

OK, here's the deal.

Somehow, I had come into a shitload of cash, and I was buying a house.  And what a house it was...

Imagine a tri-level ranch house, built using a vaguely hexagonal floorplan that had all the bedrooms and offices surrounding a central living area, and each connected with heavy swinging glass doors. 

Now, coat every bedroom, walls, floor and ceiling with thick blue shag rug, while the common rooms resemble a corporate office/hotel lobby.

The house was owned by a venture capitalist, who had commissioned an enormous oil portrait of himself that was in one of the bedrooms. It had the look of a collaboration between Ralph Steadman and Leroy Neiman.  I can recall saying to the realtor "Well, that's gotta go..."

For some reason, there was a home office still being run in one of the rooms.  It looked suspiciously like a department store right before they declare bamkruptcy.  Kinda seedy & run down.  There were a couple of young interns there, and one of them had that horrible pageboy-ish haircut that you sometimes see on little kids to try and disguise the fact that they've got a peanut-shaped head.  Looks like a layer of dangling curtain fringe...

For some reason they started giving me shit.  Something about "Don't eat the help!", implying a fat guy with a windfall of cash would somehow feel the need to consume his domestic staff.

That seemed rude, so I grab this guy by the scruff of hair and say, "You know what you need? You need a Krugerrand!  And your buddy here, he maybe wants a Panda or a Maple Leaf?"

Next thing you know, I've got both guys hung on either side of a tall concrete wall, both with a hand pinned underneath a length of chain.  Within reach of the chain is a pair of gold coins (I'm assuming the aforementioned Krugerrand and Canuck or China coin)  and each kid has a hatchet in the other hand.

The object is to cut away the other guy and grab his coin without severing the chain.

They both lost...