Lunder's Day Off

I've got a canker on my leg the size of a dead walnut and it won't say goodbye. It's a Wednesday, the kind of Wednesday where you'd like to bottle your own piss and spread it all over town like a good boy. My girlfriend left me, I work at Fishkill Bowl, and the only good thing in my life is Taylor Swift's "You Belong with Me" on repeat. My name is Lunder, Donny Lunder.

I've got a story for you too. The other day I was busy flogging Riboy Boznak when my carburetor gave out and then I'm stuck in the desert with a death wish and a dead horse.

Two years ago my mom died. She told me heaven was waiting for her. I told her I was too. See ya later I said. Here's the keys to my house she said. Goodbye

The desert is hot as shit in case you've never been. I saw a Chihuahua scamper across the sand and I was ready to leave. Riboy's busy texting and groaning like a goddamned lunatic while I'm busting my ass to get this carburetor up and running. Then, out of nowhere a fat native american boy shows up. What are you, a plus size Apache? I say. He grunts and moves towards me. Foaming at the mouth with the refuse of a Big Mac like a rabid animal. The Cabbage Patch kid points to the engine and tries to say something. That's right, it's a car. Like a horse. You know horse, right kid? He pushes me aside gently and begins to work the carburetor. Pretty soon we're good to go. He wants payment and I want to get out of there. I slip him a twenty and we part ways.

The sack of meat in the passenger seat is busy talking but Freefallin's on the radio and I'm feeling good. The sun goes down and we get back to our hotel. A guy with long hair is waiting outside for me. "Hey Reebe." Turns out he's waiting for Riboy. My mistake.

"Johnny? What are you doing here?"

"For you." he says.

She turns around to me.

"I think we should see other people."

And that was the last good day I had.