Daily Archives: April 11, 2017

Toilet Gator – Chapter 10

The Right Honorable Mayor Beaumont Dufresne was too busy listening to the Stank Daddy jam that was blaring on his radio to notice the flashing lights in his rear view mirror. He rolled down his window, tossed out an empty beer can, then popped open another. He then started to sing along with America’s favorite rapper, though the words sounded odd in his Foghorn Leghorn-esqu Southern drawl.

“Stank Daddy in the house, gonna smack a bitch…whoa yeah, Stank Daddy, smack those bitches!”

Cole got on his loudspeaker to get His Honor’s attention. “Beau! Pull over!”

The mayor spotted Cole’s cruiser and sipped his beer. “Shit! That goddamn boy scout always trying to ruin my good time.”

Beaumont pulled over to the shoulder of the highway and Cole pulled up behind him. Moments later, the police chief was rapping his knuckles on the mayor’s window. His Honor rolled it down and stuck out his beer.

“Howdy Chief!” Mayor Dufresne said. “Care for some refreshment?”

“Jesus Christ, Beau,” Cole said. “Have enough respect for me to hide it, will you?”

The mayor nodded. “You’re right.” He chugged his beer, crushed the can, then tossed it out the window, where it landed at Cole’s feet. “The Dufresne administration is nothing if not a friend to law enforcement.”

“License and registration,” Cole said.

The mayor rolled his eyes. “Cole, are we really going to do this little dance?”

“What dance is that?” Cole asked.

“The one where you pretend like you’re going to haul me in and I pretend as though I’m frightened all the way to my under britches and then you let me off with a warning?” The mayor said.

Cole cleared his throat. “License and registration.”

The mayor sighed. He reached into the glove compartment, found the requested documents, and forked them over.

“You like this little beauty?” Mayor Dufresne asked as he patted his steering wheel. “Got twelve of these babies lined up ready to go for a steal at the lot. You ought to treat yourself to one, Cole. It’s a surefire panty dropper.”

“Not interested,” Cole said.

“You sure?” the mayor asked. “You help me, I help you…”

Cole stared the mayor down. “You trying to bribe an officer of the law, Beau?”

Mayor Dufresne threw his hands up. “Heaven forbid! I’d never insult your integrity in such an unsavory manner, Cole. You’ve got to work on your paranoia.”

Cole examined the documents, then handed them back to the mayor. “And you’ve got to work on staying in the same lane.”

“Duly noted, my boy,” the mayor said. “Duly noted.”

Cole ran his hand through his hair. “Second time this month, Beau. Tenth time this year.”

“I never knew you were such an astute mathematician, Cole,” the mayor said. “You truly missed your calling.”

“Step out of the car,” Cole said.

The mayor shook his head. “Son, I do believe you ought to think long and hard about what you’re doing.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Cole said. “I’m not going to wake up one morning and find out you ran some kid over because I didn’t do my job.”

“A bit overdramatic, aren’t we?” the mayor asked.

“I’ve given you more chances than you deserve, Beau,” Cole said. “Step out of the car.”

The mayor looked at the chief. “I don’t believe I will.”

“Now you’re the one who needs to think about what he’s doing,” Cole said.

“You’ve made your point,” the mayor said. He put two fingers up to his forehead and gave Cole the boy scout salute. “I’ll go right home and join a twelve-step program. Honest Injun.’”

The bright yellow handle of a taser gun poked out from Cole’s utility belt. The chief put his hand on it. “I will light you up like a Christmas tree, Beau. Don’t even try me.”

The mayor nodded. He opened the door and stepped out with his hands up. “Well, I suppose I’ll play along with this charade, but only because my pacemaker wouldn’t find that to be agreeable at all.”

Cole threw the old coot down on the hood of the Ferrari. “Assume the position!”

“Oh for the love of God!” Mayor Dufresne cried as he felt every nook and cranny being poked and prodded.
Snap. Snap. Cole cuffed the mayor’s hands behind his back, making sure to close the metal bracelets extra tights.

“Damn it, Cole!” the mayor said. “You got me shittin’ my pants now, alright? Enough is enough!”

“You’re right,” Cole said. “Enough is enough.”

“Cole Walker!” Mayor Dufresne said. “You do this and I’ll sue the shit out of you for police brutality! I’ll have your badge!”

“Take it,” Cole said. “It’s brought me nothing but trouble.”

Cole’s radio squawked. The froggy voice of the chief’s trusty dispatcher Debbie came through. “Chief?”

“I’ll have every badge on the force!” the mayor said. “First thing I’ll do is call up the county sheriff and roll out a plan for him to absorb the entire Sitwell Police Department.”

“Oh well,” Cole said as he pulled his radio off his belt and pressed down the call button. “We had a good run. What’s up, Debbie?”

“There’s a big to-do at the community college,” Debbie said.

“Wild party?” Cole asked.

“Nope,” Debbie said. “Twenty calls already reporting a murder.”

Cole looked up to the sky and mouthed a trail of dirty words underneath his breath. He got back on his radio. “10-4.”

“You’ll never work in this town again, Walker!” the mayor shouted. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky to be a jizz mopper at a titter bar!”

Click. Click. Cole removed the cuffs and the lousy excuse for a mayor was free.

“You got lucky,” Cole said.

“Thank the lord you listened to reason,” the mayor said.

Cole walked back to his cruiser. He stopped, turned, and pointed at the mayor. “To be continued…”

The chief got in his car and rolled out into traffic.

“Pussied out again, huh?” Rusty asked.

“Shut your suckhole, Ronald McDonald,” Cole replied.

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Movie Trailer – Thor: Ragnarok

Hey 3.5 readers.

The trailer for Thor: Ragnarok is out and it’s pretty fantastic.  The use of Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song (“I come from the land of the ice and snow…”) is pretty effective.

What say you, 3.5?

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – Kendall Jenner’s Pepsi Commercial

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?


Pepsi!  Whoa, Pepsi!

You are what I drink when Coke is not available.

When the waitress asks, “Is Pepsi OK?”

I want to say, “No, it is not!  Your argument is assailable!”

But that would be fail-able.  Who am I to ask,

A minimum wage slave to go to a store for Coke?  What a difficult task!

Bask, in Kendall Jenner’s glow.

As she hocks syrupy goo to protestors to and fro.

No!  I do not care about your cause!

For Coke is the drink that I really want in my paws.

Pepsi is the drink that will only sort of do.

Kind of like how you’ll take someone below average,

Even though a supermodel is who you really wanted to screw.

Subdue!  My mind from such terrible frustration.

I must deliver apologies across the entire nation.

For I am being truly crass and even a little bloated, yes it’s true!

I drank too much Pepsi at the super woke protest,

And now I feel like I need to spew.

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