Adam sat in the middle of the yellow brick road in a daze, scratching his head, aware of an uncomfortable bulge in his back pocket. He forced his fingers into the tight opening and tentatively felt about the package tightly wedged in his rear, it was sodding wet and seemed soft! "God what have I gone and done again?" He thought, "Don't even remember getting drunk last night!" He managed to prise it out of its tight confines and brought it up to his face for a closer look, it smelled kind of cheesy and seemed a bit floppy but he felt an irresistible urge to put it in his mouth. It was a life long vice he couldn't control, if it wasn't mouldy old doughnuts eaten from a dumpster it was bits of congealed egg scraped off his tie and ingested with an obcene voraciousness usually restricted to the feeding habits of African vultures. He chewed nonchalantly gazing lazily about him as realisation slowly descended. "Bloody hell, I hate processed cheese sanwiches!" He suddenly cried, fully aware of what he'd stuck in his gob. As he spat out the last remaining bits of the offendingly emulsified morsels he came to the conclusion that he had absolutely no idea where he was, or how he got there!
...As he looked around, he tried to figure out where in the hell he was. He had never seen this road before, nor did he remember to have ever travelled to a place like this. On the sidewalk was high grass, blowing softly in the breeze. A bottle, nearly empty, and some clothy bag were laying, forgotten, on the edge. In the distance he saw a vague dust cloud. He was suddenly alarmed by the sight of this dust cloud. What could this be? Slowly it came closer and a shape became visible. Man, it looked like someone on a horse or so. Adam rose to his feet and zig-zagged from side to side of the yellow brick road. His head was spinning. Adam shook his head and tumbled down to the road in an instant. He reached for the bottle. "Maybe a little drink will help," he thought aloud. "My throat is as dry as a desert." As he touched the bottle, his eyes wandered off to the dust cloud, which aproached him with a certain, steady speed. Somehow, it didn't feel right...
Another mouth full from the bottle soothed his now noticably dry throat. He coughed. Bringing the last bite of cheese sandwich again to the top of his throat. Adam chomped, clearing his airways and drawing a deep breath, then splashing another shot of the liquid into his mouth. It was then he felt it. The burning. Adam looked suspiciously at the bottle... Bourbon...Straight. He shook his head to clear the haze. Slowly he glanced up at the oncoming dust. The burning... it wasn't the bourbon... it was fear, fear only now realized. An undercurrent of emotion washed over his soul, an undeniable urge to leave the road. The dust cloud was still approaching rapidly, picking up momentum. Adam, still unaware as to what it was, found flight his only course of action... Quickly surveying his surroundings, Adam smiled to himself, for behind him...
was Fritz, astride a red and chrome Harley Softail with leather fringes hanging off the handlebars fluttering in the strong warm breeze! Though he looked as happy as a cat could be, he didn't seem to be completely au fait with the proper riding procedure reserved for machines of this nature, as he skidded around in circles dragging one foot along the ground and blowing up clouds of yellow dust. "Hey man, we god to split dis scene!' He shouted frantically, though he didn't look unduly worried. "Lez go meet ma main pussy, Dorothy, she god a bag for you 'n me; yeah! 'N by de way, there's some twirly, wirly, thingy acoming your way from way over yonder, 'n it sure look mean, oh yeah! Sacre 'n bleu! Adam turned around to face the giant tornado rolling towards him relentlessly. Couldn't tell how far it was; could have been 100 metres, could have been 10, could have been real close. Suddenly, a rush of hot air knocked him to the ground, he fell and bounced around on the yellow bricks in slow motion, as though he were acting in some Sam Peckinpah slow motion type movie. But it wasn't in slow motion, the sudden gust of wind had sent him flying to the ground with bone shattering force! He looked up, a terrified expression on his face, only to see Fritz doing wheelies around his prone body. "Hey, what the fugglemegook Fritz?" "Sorry my man, came up too close! Come on, ged on de bike, that thing is gonna blow you right way outta here!" He leaned over, grabbed Adam by the arm, hauled him onto the bike and careered off on one wheel in the opposite direction of the approaching twister! "I know it sounds weird", said Adam, "but, I seem to know your name and you seem kind of normal to me and yet I keep thinking that you're no more than a 2 dimensional cartoon character from the 60's; or was it the 70's? And it's like I'm experiencing dejavu all the time; d'you think I'm having a dream of some sort? Because, you're not real; surely?" "Sacre ma bleu!" Said Fritz, sticking his tail up high into the wind and laughing hysterically like some crazy cat that's gone crazy, as they hurtled down the gently winding road towards a bright light flickering seductively in the far distance.
i'll never forget that day... i had just finished breakfast as i recall and had started to read the morning news when it began. At first just a rumble, then growing exponentially... heading in my direction. As this was out of the ordinary, even for life on the yellow brick road, curiosity got the better of me. i wish now it hadn't. i rose from my seat at the kitchen table and made my way over to the window. The rumble had grown to the point of shaking the whole house, yet there was nothing to be seen in either direction. i squinted in an attempt to see further down the road than i actually could, and there it was, tiny at first. Soon after a flash of red, a flash of reflected sunlight. These images meshed with the associated rumble, i then knew what it was, it could be none other... a harley. Living in these parts all my life i knew only one person around here owned a harley... Fritz. The bike came into view and hurtled past my house exceeding the speed limit easily. It was at that time i realized Fritz had a pillion, someone i didn't recognise. I should not have concentrated so hard on the passing motorbike. "Could'a waved" i mumbled nonchalantly to myself. As Fritz and co disappeared, continuing over the hill, my house was engulfed by a dust cloud of some description. i couldn't even see the potted plants normally on my window sill. The whole house shook violently, i grabbed for the sink to support myself. Ripping of metal and tearing of foundations filled my ears as i felt the house rise, at first a metre or so, then letting go altogether. My house was in the air. I couldn't tell how high as i still couldn't see past the curtains. But i could tell my house was about to be destroyed. My life flashed before my eyes, a life of self-satisfaction. At that point i wished i was the one on the back of the bike with Fritz. ------------------------------------------------- Fritz and Adam came screaming over the hill, Fritz found it difficult maintaining control of the harley at such high speeds due to the uneven placement of each individual brick on the road. But he was experienced enough to be able to give Adam the community goss. "Thatz de Wild Yanker of the West's pad dude" Fritz yelled back to Adam as they flew past a house just off the road. "Was the Wild Yanker's pad... Shouldn't you have waved or something?" Adam queeried. "Nah... Stuff'm, he's just a wanker" Fritz yelled back. Adam looked back over his shoulder and could see the dust totally engulf the house. "Hurry!" Adam suggested strongly, "No worries, i have an idea..." replied Fritz confidently. "But firstly... do you still have the bourbon?"
Adam handed him the bottle and he gulped down a third of it. "YEEHAAH!" He shouted! Fritz opened up the throttle, trying to keep a distance between them and the black, cone shaped monster rumbling on their tail. 95, 105, 120mph; in hindsight, Adam would have been the first to admit that they'd been travelling at a speed that could best be described as, stupidly fast, but he'd felt a thrill like no other; ever! "Dats ma buddy's pad!" Fritz shouted as they approached a ramshackle wooden house situated just ahead of them to the right. "Whaaat?" He shouted back through the momentous roar slowly but surely engulfing them in its noise. Fritz flew past the house not even daring to glance its way; he might have sensed that things were getting serious. The road began to incline and he bounded up the hill like a scalded cat! "I said, dats ma buddy's; oh shit!" He shouted, as they approached the apex. "Where's de fugledegooking road man?" There was no more road! There were no more fields to their left and right! There was nothing! For a brief moment, they felt weightlessness and a feeling of flying and a feeling of dropping off the edge of the world; all at the same time. A serene detachment from the physical realm, a state of non-being, a state of bliss! It was short lived. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" They screamed as the red and chrome machine began to drop like a led zeppelin doing a high dive. What happened next was kind of surreal, even for a man of Adam's recent experiences. The momentum of falling suddenly ceased and instead, they began to rise. Higher and higher they rose, spiralling ever upwards on an invisible, swirling, road of noise. Something seemed to be hovering ahead of them just to their right, Adam thought it looked like a house. As they stared, the shape got bigger and clearer and they could make out the roof and the balconies and the windows, the front porch, the open door and suddenly they were sitting in front of a blazing log fire in a comfortably snug living room. Fritz dismounted and walked over to the figure laying on the couch and nursing a bong the size of a baseball bat. "Hey Dorothy, wassup bitch?" He said.
