It was early morning, and I had a ride ahead of me. I was off to meet with the Wildebeest himself, Dabbin-Dad. We had a couple of invites to a private event, and we had every intention of showing up in true Dabbin-Dad fashion, with multiple cases of small arson along the way.
“FREE DABS!” screams in the back of my mind.
I hadn’t been out in the wyld for quite some time. I look forward to running with the hurd.
When I arrived at Castle DabSkull, I was greeted at the door by Dad himself with a steaming, freshly brewed cup of java and a phatty boom batty. We were still in the morning hours, but the day was looking great.
But a phatty isn’t enough for our caliber, “By the power of Dabskull!”
The ooie gooie evaporated under intense heat and inhalation. The transformation was complete, we had become The Wildebeest and Juggernaut Journalist.
My brain felt like it was a slow-melting candle dripping onto a table, followed by white noise. It was time to go. The mindset was now in place. We had to go and get Dad’s Dad. The flight of the Wildebeest was upon us.
We go into the NCC-1701/7 USS Enterprise Shuttle, and once the doors closed, it was an instant jump to warp speed.
The torque off the jump was so intense that all of my guts instantly pressed up against my spine. I could taste my liver a little bit. I can tell it’s one of the hardest-working livers in the multiverse. Respect.
Once we came out of the jump, we were in the driveway of Dad’s Dad.
My organs oozed back into their normal positions, and the taste of liver left my mouth.
We turned on the PA system and indicated that we had the place surrounded and to come out so we could get the hell out of here. We had a party to get to. This was of extreme importance.
As Dad’s Dad opened the door, the crowd cheered. The roars of the people only got louder as he came down the front steps. Each step only made the barrage more boisterous.
The deafening, thunderous crowd went silent with the click of the shuttle door, and all my organs were once again pressed against the seat that I sat upon. As my intestines dribbled back into position, we had arrived. Did I mention that this thing drives itself?
As we stepped from the shuttle. The clouds parted and the sun shined down, the sound of trumpets while angels sang filled the air as the red carpet was rolled out, and the naked cupids danced around us, sprinkling our path with flowers as we approached the door. Good shit too. Royal Blood and LA Frost x Wilson was the bees knees.
Where did we go, you ask?
It was a High Bazzar private party event. Just like the good ole days. A Juggernaut jog down memory lane. The past beats inside of most much like a second heart. However, I have come to find that it’s always the people and not the places that make real memories. The important ones were here… Both the people and the memories.
We danced, we kissed, we schmoozed, we carried on and ran like a hurd of crazed beasts. There was a lot of weed smoking too. We went home happy. I left with a kick-ass gift bag too.
