Thoughts On The Dead

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

Red Touches Black, Son Of Jack

Why do you hate cameras?

“Soul stealers.”

The children are so happy to be taking a picture with you, and it’s like you’re staring down the banker what come to take Pappy’s farm.

“I don’t wanna get ’em too excited. None of them are making it to the end of the tour.”

Goddammit, Bobby, are those Redshirts?’

“You bet.”

Where did you get Redshirts from?

“Same place Phil got his busboys, I think.”

Please don’t send those optimistic Millennials to die on Away missions.

“Too late for that. This is what’s left.”

How many did you start with?

“75? 80? You’d be astonished how many you go through.”

Why do you even need Redshirts?

“Might run into a Gorn.”

You’re not going to run into a Gorn, Bobby.

“Never know.”

And if you do, the captain is supposed to fight it. That’s you.

“Yeah, uh, we’re playing by Next Generation rules. Something needs to be investigated, we send out the keyboardist and some Redshirts.”

Makes sense.

“Grateful Dead keyboardists and Star Trek Redshirts. Lot in common.”

True. So, you’ve killed around 65 of them in 15 shows?

“Around there. Nobody really keeps track.”

How?

“Billy straight-up drowned three of them in a swimming pool.”

Jesus.

“Bus got a flat one night.”

And you made one of them change it and there was an accident?

“No, no. We, uh, fashioned a replacement tire out of half-dozen of their bodies.”

Wow.

“Show must go on.”

Does it?

1 Comment

  1. Mean, Green, Devil Eating Machine

    June 29, 2017 at 11:39 am

    Yes, we forgot to get Bob to change shirts.

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