Beetlebottom #5 You Just Never Really Know

Wednesday Night in Beetlebottom 

Sheriff Fussfutter pulled into the driveway of the doctor's home, at the edge of town.

Abe was laying in the backseat of the police car under a wool blanket. Abe hadn't said much for most of the ride.
At one point, after mumbling a few things, and a bit of pain induced moaning, he managed to croak out a groggy, “ Am I ok, Hoods?”

Both the doctor and his wife came out to the car to have a look at Abe.

Doc crawled into the backseat with Abe and gently probed around the wound at the back of Abe's head. Doc asked for…and his wife brought out towels, warm soap and water, plus a few bandage dressings.
Doc quietly asked Abe a few questions, checked over his eyes and asked about any other injuries.

Abe kept his head down on the backseat, but quietly appreciated the kind words and touch of Doc and his wife.

After a few minutes of examination, Doc told Hoodsdigger that Abe need to go to a hospital in the next bigger town about an hour away, without delay.
Doc told Hoodsdigger that he had a bit of a situation on his hands because, Abe was probably struck by a rock before he fell to the ground.

Doc saw the look that came across the sheriff's face when he was processing that bit of news.

Doc added that he and his wife could take Abe to the hospital in the back of their car. They would make sure Abe was getting cared for, and that they would immediately turnaround and come back to Beetlebottom that same night.


Remember that noise that interrupted the quiet dinner of the old auto mechanic? He thought it was a couple local dogs rummaging around.

And…it kinda was, but these were two legged dogs that looked a lot like Slim Jim and Lanky Pete.

Lanky Pete was on some kind of mission that Slim didn't fully grasp yet.
Lanky Pete walked around the side of the small old auto shop to look for something.
Slim was a confused few steps behind.

Lanky spied a couple metal cans and made a one finger “ hush” signal to Slim.

Lanky picked up a metal Jerry can and motioned for Slim to grab the other one.
Both of the metal cans sloshed with a few gallons of gasoline.

“This will do just fine”, Lanky declared. “ Yup, this'll do.”

“What are we doing, Pete , what's this stuff for?”
Slim had a faint little squishy idea that maybe him and Lanky were gonna cap off the day by “ borrowing” somebody's car…and that car might need gas.

Lanky took Slim on an evening march that crisscrossed fields and went down seldom used back lanes, in the general direction of main street Beetlebottom.

Lanky seemed to be a bit possessed by whatever plan he had in that simple little mind of his…and didn't share much of that plan with Slim as they took this backroad path towards town.


The two boys were walking on a trail that followed the the line of power poles that brought electricity to town. Off to the side of that trail was a wire fence that had seen better days.

It was fairly easy to step on the already half collapsed wire and go over the fence…and step right on to the back field of Beetlebottom High School.

The daylight was fading slowly on this warm Wednesday afternoon, but it wasn't fully dark.

Lanky guided their march towards the back of the school by skirting over to the edge of the field by the trees.

Slim followed faithfully, as usual, a day late and a dollar short on figuring out what was happening.

Lanky Pete and Slim Jim eased up to the back of the high school, right exactly where they stood this morning at the smoke pit.

The broken glass of the donation jar lay strewn about the gravel. Slim noticed a couple nickels and a dime on the ground that they missed. Slim picked up the twenty cents and held his prize high with a triumphant grin.
Although Lanky was looking right at Slim, his eyes didn't register Slim holding up the coins.
Instead he bent down and unscrewed the cap off his metal Jerry can. “ Give me that one too” he commanded to Slim.
Slim obliged, and plunked his can down beside Lanky's.
Slim could already smell the vapours oozing up and out of the can.

The whole plan that Lanky had been holding on to, clunked into place in Slim's dark little brain pan, when Lanky started splashing gasoline against the back wall of the school.

“Gimme that one too” after tossing the empty one aside.
Lanky threw the contents of the second can up against the wall, tossing it up as high as he could as well as left and right.

Slim stood back a bit, and was getting jittery about what he saw Lanky doing. 
 Slim was as thick and stupid as anybody can be, but he knew deep down this was maybe not the best idea ever.

Lanky Pete pulled a small folding packet of paper matches from his pocket.
 In the other pocket was a couple of scrunched up stolen cigarettes that he had poached from his mother's night table.

Without much hesitation, Lanky tore a match out of the pack and dragged it across the gritty black strip of the matchbook.

The match ignited and flared wildly before settling into a smaller steady flame.

Lanky cupped the match and leaned towards a small pool of gas that had formed on the ground below the school wall.

Slim Jim was taking a few steps backwards and was thinking that right about now, would be a good time to go home at top speed.

Lanky was crouched down a bit as he tossed the lit match forward.

Slim was in the first two steps of running away like a scared rabbit, when he heard…and felt a heavy “ Whooomp”

He turned to see a ball of orange flame erupt up and out, with Lanky getting launched backwards by the force of the blast.

Lanky was trying to paddle himself backwards through the air to escape the wall of flame that surrounded him.

Lanky fell on the gravel, right in the pile of broken glass from the donation jar.

Lanky had spilled gasoline on his pants, and they were now on fire, as well as his shirt.

Lanky's eyebrows were already burnt off as he now painfully realized that he rolling around in broken glass.

“ Pete, fuck sake, I'm on fire” Lanky shrieked more like a howling feral cat than a teenage hooligan.
Lanky was trying to beat the flaming pants down with his hands, but everytime he moved, a new piece of broken glass cut into his backside.

Slim, eyes wide open, mouth wide open in shock, stood flat-footed gawking at the unfolding carnage.

Lanky was still on fire, but…the school wasn't.

The gasoline had flashed and burst into a giant fireball and then quickly fell back into a few small pools of flame, with a black plume of smoke already escaping into the evening sky.
The back wall of the school was made of cinder blocks and mortar…it was never gonna burn. Not today, not ever.

Lanky Pete on the other hand, was still on fire.

Slim Jim assessed the situation from all angles, front to back.

Slim Jim's conclusion was…Run right the fuck away, at full sprint and don't look back.

It was a bit downhill from the back of the school to the main street.

Slim Jim got up a good head of speed with fear, adrenaline and the downhill slope.

Slim was booking along like an Olympic sprinter when he ran out into the cross street and right smack dab in front of Sheriff Hoodsdigger Fussfutter’s patrol car.

Up at the bootlegger's house, it was losing day light fast, being surrounded by trees and sitting on the shady side of the distant mountains. There was a chill in the air as the sun started fall down behind the hills.

Porch Man and Mama stood on the wooden steps of the house as David Lee Royce and Destiny climbed out of the new red muscle car.

Porch Man noticed that David Lee was a really large and intimidating looking beast of a man.

The springs on the car pushed back up a few inches when David Lee clambered up and out. He looked like a man that had his own private gravity field around him. Like a man , the Devil himself would avoid.

But then, Destiny eased herself out the passenger side.

Porch Man had seen girlie magazines with women that had long legs, short skirts and high heel shoes…but he has never seen one in real life.

On top of that, Destiny had a black leather jacket that covered a red blouse that was nearly wide open to just about her bellybutton. Really impressive breasts, unrestrained by a bra, made themselves known in all their glory.

David Lee reached into the backseat and pulled out a large duffle bag.

When he stood back up, he glared across the yard at Porch Man ogling at Destiny.

Mama, oblivious to most of this, already dreaming about swimming in cash dollars…beckoned David Lee and Destiny to come inside and have something to eat.

David Lee locked his stare on Porch Man, Porch Man felt the heat of David Lee’s and turned to see that David Lee was looking right at him…while he, Porch Man had been staring at Destiny.

David Lee broke away to look down at his duffle bag…and then back up again.

Billy Brown climbed out of the back seat of David Lee's car and immediately went over to the hedge to take a pee without hesitation or embarrassment.

Porch Man snapped back into himself and said, “C'mon inside, let's get some drinks going”

The Old Man sat in his recliner, feet raised, belly pushing his t-shirt up.

He had a cigarette in one hand and a glass of warm bourbon in a dirty glass in the other.

David Lee Royce filled up the doorway and the front room actually darkened as David Lee's body blocked the last of the evening light.

The old man piped up. “ Glad to finally meet you in person…hey just drop your bag on the table“

When the bag hit the table, all the six ears of the bootlegger family assessed that there was several soft things inside…maybe other bags…and a couple heavier things that gently contacted each other…maybe, probably…guns.

The old man stuck his cigarette in his mouth and shook David Lee's hand. 

“And whose this pretty thing” Mama inquired. Mama was being overly and unusually polite. She had never seen a woman look like this before.

Oh…yeah. This is my old lady, she'll be staying with me while I'm here doing our business.

“Actually, my name is Destiny” she said through a shallow false smile.

David Lee Royce took no notice. He just came back with…"Hey , get my bottle out of the car, and pour us a drink."

"Oh hey there big fella, I got some good hooch here, want some of mine “? the Old Man offered.
“Naw, I'm good, I brought good whiskey. It kinda fell off a truck and I got a good deal on a couple cases.

Back on the main street of Beetlebottom, Slim Jim was standing in the middle of the road after running right in front of the Sheriff's patrol car.

Hoodsdigger had slammed on the brakes and came to a screeching halt.

The car idled, the car radio played a Conway Twitty song, and the Sheriff and Slim Jim locked eyes.

Slim's brain turned to complete mush. He couldn't get a thought to come forward if he tried.

Slim's deep reptile instinct took over, and he turned away and bolted away like he had been shot out of a catapult.

“ Well, what the hell was that all about?” Hoodsdigger pondered.

He looked up to his right where, the kid had skittered down from and saw the black smoke drifting up into the evening sky.

“ That ain't right” he said to himself.

He pulled his car into the gravel road that went up behind the school.

Before he got too far, Hoodsdigger layed eyes on a scene that defied his senses.

On the gravel parking lot was a man rolling around, with small bits of fire on his jeans and T-shirt, blood coming off his hands and back…plus a huge scorch mark on the back wall of the school. Little pools of flames dotted the parking lot. A couple Jerry cans lay on their side.

Hoodsdigger jumped out of his car, and used his leather jacket to beat down the last of the flames on this guy.

Hoodsdigger recognized the burnt and bleeding guy as the juvenile delinquent, Lanky Pete. They had crossed paths before…but definitely not like this.

See Beetlebottom #6 here
http://adventuresinmikeslife.blogspot.com/2025/01/under-moon-and-stars-in-beetlebottom.html

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