Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Bearcat, Bear, Cat

“HOW YOU DOIN’ BACK THERE, HAIRY GARCIA?”

“This is, uh, real comfortable. Spacious. Man can really kick off his sandals in a backseat like this. Lotta bliss to be found.”

“YOU FIND ANY EXTRA, YOU SEND IT UP HERE.”

“Aye-aye. Elvis, what are these seats made of?”

“THAT THERE IS LEATHER FROM A TUFTED VARLET.”

“Huh. What, uh, what kind of animal is that?”

“AH HAVE NO IDEA, BUT ISS SO SOFT YOU COULD WIPE YER ASS WITH IT.”

“Oh, yeah. You shouldn’t though.”

“YOU WANNA WIPE YER ASS ON MAH CAR, HAIRY GARCIA, THEN YOU GO ‘HEAD. YOU MAH BEST FRIEND AN’ WE HAVIN’ ADVENTURES JUS’ LIKE HUCK AN’ JIM, MAN.”

“There are small differences, I guess.”

“MEBBE WE GONNA MEET A HOBO KING. WILL HE TEACH US HIS SECRETS? AH DO NOT KNOW, BUT AH AM EXCITED T’ FIND OUT.”

“Okee-doke. But, you know: first we gotta get all the time machines back.”

“YOU GOT A LINE ON YER BASS PLAYER?”

“Yeah, well, that’s a problem. Nobody’s seen him in a few days. Could be anywhere.”

“AH HOPE HE AIN’T IN TH’ YEAR 3411 GETTIN’ HISSELF A PAIR O’ QUANTUM NIPPLES.”

“Me, too.”

“MAN, ME AN’ YOU IS JUST SIMPATICO, HAIRY GARCIA.”

“Uh, y’know, Elvis…you can call me Bobby.”

“AH C’N CALL ANYBODY WHATEVER AH WANT T’ CALL ‘EM. AH CHOOSE T’ CALL YOU HAIRY GARCIA. YOU WANNA STOP AT STUCKEY’S?”

“I’m good.”

“YER LOSS, MAN. NOW TELL TH’ KING ABOUT THIS WAYWARD BASS PLAYER. YOU GOT A HUNCH WHERE HE AT? OR WHEN?”

“Here’s the thing about Phil that might work to our advantage: he’s kinda lazy. Most likely, he’s drunk in a bar in San Ysidro.”

“THEN AH SHALL POINT MAH GLAMOROUS AN’ POWERFUL CAR THATTAWAY. HOW YOU FIXED F’R SCARVES AN’ WATER?”

“More than enough of both.”

“YOU SURE? AH C’N STOP AN’ LET CHARLIE HODGE OUTTA TH’ TRUNK.”

“I’m good.”

“WE OUGHTTA GET OFF TH’ HIGHWAY AN’ GO T’ ONE O’ THOSE JOINTS THAT SELLS EV’RYTHING. YOU KNOW: WHERE TH’ POOR FOLKS EAT AT. THEY GOT CHICKEN AN’ SEAFOOD AN’ CHINESE FOOD AN’ MUFFINS AN’ PIZZA. THEN, Y’ MASH ALL THAT T’GETHER AN’ HAVE MISS MARY DEEP-FRY IT. AH CALL IT A BAD NEIGHBORHOOD SAN’WICH. ISS SO DELICIOUS Y’ GET A BONER EATIN’ IT.”

“Not hungry.”

“DO YOU HAVE LOVE IN YER LIFE, HAIRY GARCIA?”

“Sure, yeah. Quite a bit. Wife, kids, Jeff Chimenti.”

“AH HAVE LOST MAH PRISCILLA! MAH TEENAGED BRIDE DONE RUN OFF WITH TH’ KARATE INSTRUCTOR!”

“YOU HEAR ME?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry. Just kinda amazed by the fact that the sentence ‘My teenaged bride ran off with the karate instructor’ is completely factual and not exaggerated for comic effect.”

“DAMMIT, HAIRY GARCIA, AH AM TRYIN’ T’ BE REAL WITH YOU! STOP MAKIN’ ASIDES T’ THE AUDIENCE!”

“You’re right. Continue.”

“WHEN AH FIRST SAW MAH PRISCILLA, SHE WAS BUT A SLIP OF A GIRL. KEPT FALLIN’ OVER CUZ HER BEEHIVE HAIRDO WAS BIGGER THAN SHE WAS. MAH PRISCILLA WAS A DELICATE FLOWER THAT AH NEEDED TO PLUCK, AN’ ALSO MAKE MAH LOVE TO.”

“She was a looker.”

“SOME SAID IT WAS WRONG CUZ SHE WAS SO YOUNG. BUT AH COULD NOT RESIST HER CHARMS, MAN. SHE WAS A STONE-COLD TEEN FOX. YOU KNOW WHAT AH’M TALKIN’ ABOUT?”

“No.”

“YOU NEEDED T’ THINK ‘BOUT THAT?”

“Let’s just talk about you. Why’d she leave? Marriage going bad before that?”

“TH’ MARRIAGE WAS HEAVENLY, MAN. SHE PROVIDED ME WITH MAH PRECIOUS GIRL-CHILD, LISA MARIE.”

“Maybe you should’ve had another kid. I hear having another kid fixes problems.”

“YOU BITE YER TONGUE, HAIRY GARCIA! YOU BITE IT RIGHT OFF! IF AH WASN’T USIN’ MAH FEET AN’ HANDS F’R DRIVIN’, AH WOULD BE USIN’ ‘EM F’R KARATE!”

“What’d I say?”

“HOW COULD AH GIVE MAH GIFT T’ PRISCILLA AFTER SHE HAD TH’ BABY? THASS A RUINED COOTER, MAN! CAN’T DO NOTHIN’ WITH THAT KINDA COOTER! AH DON’T EVEN KNOW IF THAT FULLY QUALIFIES AS A COOTER ANY MORE!”

“Wow.”

“LISSEN UP: BABIES COME FROM GOD. WE KNOW THIS FROM OUR STUDIES. AH READ LOTSA BOOKS ‘BOUT THIS KINDA STUFF. BABIES COME FROM GOD. THAT MEANS WHEN A BABY COMES OUT YER COOTER, YER COOTER IS GOD. CAN’T BE STICKIN’ YER PECKER IN GOD, MAN.”

“I guess not.”

“NOT IN TH’ SOUTH, AT LEAST. DUNNO WHATCHOO WEIRDOS FROM CALIFORNIA GET UP TO.”

“We don’t stick our peckers in God, Elvis.”

“ALL RIGHT. THASS GOOD T’ HEAR. YOU WAN’ SOME SPAGHETTI?”

“Still not hungry.”

“AH GOT IT RIGHT HERE IN THE GLOVE COMPARTMENT. WOULDN’T EVEN NEED T’ STOP.”

“Nuh-uh.”

APPLE WATCH NOISE

“That’s me.”

“AH KNOW THASS YOU. KING WOULDN’T WEAR ONE O’ THEM SISSY STRAPS.”

“Sure.”

“Weir here.”

“Look up, Bobby Grateful.”

“Who is this?”

“Is Putin. I have plane now.”

“How’d you afford a plane? The Flaming Groovies never sold any records.”

“Put Elvis on phone.”

“You bet. Elvis, he wants to talk to you.”

“HEY, POOTER.”

“Is not name.”

“ME AN’ HAIRY GARCIA COMIN’ T’ KICK YER COMMIE ASS BACK T’ TH’ LIBRARY IN LONDON MARX  SCRIBBLED YER DOPEY SYSTEM IN.”

“Communism not dopey. Is for people.”

“NAH, MAN. ELVIS IS F’R TH’ PEOPLE. COMMUNISM’S F’R JOKERS AN’ WOOLY BOOGERS.”

“You are woofy booboo.”

“WOOLLY BOOGER.”

“Woodoo boogie.”

“WOOLY BOOGER.”

“Nyet. This cannot be said with Russian accent.”

“POINT: AMERICA.”

“I have many missile. Maybe I shoot ugly American car.”

“UGLY? MAN, THIS HERE’S A STUTZ BEARCAT. YOU THINK ISS UGLY, THEN YOU MUST BE LOOKIN’ AT YER FACE AN’ MISTAKIN’ IT F’R MAH FINE AUTOMOBILE.”

“Nice burn, Elvis.”

“THANK YOU, HAIRY GARCIA. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”

“Is no burn.”

“Y’ BURNT, BOY! AH BURNT YA!”

“No burn.”

“MEBBE AH SEND DR. NICK OVER THERE T’ MINISTER T’ YER BURNS. HE COULD APPLY SOME SORTA MEDICATED POULTICE.”

“Propaganda. Burn is propaganda.”

“NOW PISS OFF, IVAN. ME AN’ MAH BEST FRIEND GOIN’ T’ FIND A DRUNKEN BASS PLAYER FROM 1985 WHO DONE FILCHED SOME TIME-ALTERIN’ DEVICES!”

“Da. This is what Putin is doing.”

“WHAT NOW?”

“Phil?”

“Hey, Bobby.”

“You joined the Flaming Groovies?”

“Listen: ’85 me is a drunken fool, and he can’t be trusted with one time machine, let alone several. Whatever item of clothing that jackass has turned into a chronofucker needs to be confiscated.”

“Yeah, no, I agree. That’s what me and Elvis are doing. Why didn’t you come with us?”

“It seems like Putin’s the only one around here who knows what he’s doing.”

“I actually can’t argue with that.”

“AH CAN! AH NOW DECLARE KARATE WAR ON ALL ITERATIONS OF YER BASS PLAYER!”

“Okay, have fun driving around with the lunatic. I’m going to take care of this.”

RUSSIAN DIAL TONE NOISE

“He sounds well.”

“HE GONNA SOUND BEATEN.”

“King?”

“BEST FRIEND?”

“Who’s in the passenger seat?”

“AH HAVE NO IDEA WHO THIS MAN IS.”

“Okay. That spaghetti offer still on the table?”

“AH KNEW YOU COULDN’T RESIST ISS SIREN SONG, MAN.”

3 Comments

  1. Luther Von Baconson

    March 4, 2017 at 11:00 am

    Gerry Cheevers doin’ Phil’s taxes in the back there?

  2. GjermundHigraff

    March 4, 2017 at 2:09 pm

    Should’ve had Josh on pointing out it’s a ‘hawk, not a bearcat.

    • Thoughts On The Dead

      March 5, 2017 at 2:04 am

      Dammit, yup. Thought it was the Bearcat, but it was the Blackhawk.

      (Elvis had ordered five Bearcats, but he died before he got them, I think.)

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