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FOURTH OF JULY DRAG RACE ENDS
IN FLAMING WRECKAGE Wow, we all sure had a GREAT Fourth of July, didn't we? Even though the cops showed up and hauled a bunch of us away, they was kind enough to turn us all loose so we could get home in time for supper. Fatty Daddy sold us all them stretchy dresses, pantyhose, pumps, and gaudy jewelry and just general glittery shit that the men wore in the drag race. All them guys in dresses and high heels running up and down the driveway sure was a sight for sore eyes, wasn't it? The only injuries that resulted from the drag race was all them car wrecks up on the highway when the drag racers got where drivers could see them. A bunch of cars got rear-ended and one got T-boned somehow when everyone slowed down to gawk at all them guys running toward the highway sporting facial hair and dresses. There was a few sprained ankles on some of the drag racers from Buzzards Trailertopia. That was from running over them huge pointy speedbumps in girly shoes like high-heeled pumps and stilettos without no practice first. Men from both the Tinbox Acres team and the Buzzards Trailertopia team did such a good job of aerating the grass down by the duckpond with their high heels, there ain't no grass left down there. But it sure will be green when it grows back in with all them little bitty spike-heel-holes in the dirt. The Tinbox Acres Team took the Grand Prize, which was a bottle of Tequila. The team from Buzzards Trailertopia took second, a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Tinbox Acres won third and fourth prize, a bottle of Mad Dog 20-20 and a Mickey's Big Mouth, respectively. All in all, it was a great day for the Tinbox Acres Team. The Buzzards Trailertopia team was just happy they went away with a six-pack and didn't get skunked. When the cops showed up to investigate all them fiery crashes up where our driveway crosses the highway, everyone who wrecked said it was our drag race that caused the whole thing. Since none of us was behind a wheel when it all went down, none of us was charged. Some of us was hauled away later in a Paddy wagon, though. The County Nuthatch was full to capacity by the time we showed up, so we all got released within six hours instead of the customary 72. We hear tell the nuthatch staff complained that if they had to watch that many of us at once for three straight days, they'd all wind up as inmates themselves. Speaking of nuthatch inmates, did you all know Welcome Wagon Willy actually used to be a fireman? For reals he was. He even gots a old firesuit from back in the day. None of us knew that until Willy threw on that firesuit and ran out onto the highway to chase after them firetrucks. That stunt is what got Willy thrown into the back of the Paddy wagon and hauled to the nuthatch. It was a honest mistake. Willy seen all them firetrucks barreling down the highway with their sirens screaming, and he thought they was coming to Tinbox Acres to join the fun with the cops, the Paddy wagon, and all of us. But they wasn't. It seems only one of the firetrucks was headed here, and that was because of all the flaming wreckage our drag race caused up on the highway. All them other firetrucks was headed to a real live fire about a mile and a half down the road. When Willy seen all them firetrucks headed out this way, he threw on his ancient yellow soot-covered firesuit and hat and ran out to the highway. He started doing these wild gazelle leaps all over the side of the road, and as the last firetruck whizzed past, it SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHED on its brakes, leaving 120 feet of stinking rubber skidmarks smoking on the asphalt in front of the trailer park. The firemen thought one of their own had fallen off. When they found out it was just Willy fucking around on the roadside in a firesuit, they got all pissed off and demanded he be thrown into the back of the Paddy wagon with all of us. It was damn lucky Willy got hauled in when we all did. Otherwise, he would have spent the next 72 hours driving all the nuthatch inmates crazy. Instead, he got released in six hours with the rest of us.
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