Chapter Nine

NOW come this certain time I even bust me my leg. Needs got me to Germsville. I had me one high lime in there. I done expected this soft choke but even obtained me many a belly-rack. Plenty of these Nurse-witches got these little accents on them.

I fell total for this sweet Irish lady, with gentle eyes and dark mane. The Matron got this Scottish voice-box which highly delighted me.

They got these madmen tablets which they give me one night when Dreamsville give me the go-by. In short time them brain-wheels started turning in many a circle, and my frame likewise appeared to sway. Then, wham, I black out and lose the happenings till a.m. come.

I got to pattering with this little chap who were my temporary turf-mate. He having his belly bust open or something, and they give him this madmen pair of long socks to drag into before he catch the blade. He sot this pretty squaw calling on him most times which softly choke me. Still I keep eyeballing that lady-nurse I been jiving about. She got blue eyballs which give flashes just like madmen torches and all. It be her pleasure to lead me round Germ Manor. She keep telling me not to lean so heavy on her, but I clutch that lady like she strictly the end.

One time she jive at me real zooty. “You’ve got a lovely cuddle,” she tell me in that Irish voice-box. This clearly shake me up. Them Irish voices kind of twist their way into your soul and all. Or maybe it were just because them looks that went with the voice were total in there.

Witches got the power to make me flip with just one sweet sword. That’s what blackens me. How I ever going to know if they dig me plenty? I lose my heart and catch me a mighty corn disposition if they give me one sign.

Now some of my apprentice-mates call, to rave the gen at me like it mattered or something. Some lady turf-mates and gassers of Moms even send me flowers and all. Now ain’t that nice? Had me several gladioli sticking they fuseboxes out my tooth mug, while these madmen bouquets of flowers did float about in kidney basins.

Now I got me belly-racks all the time at this old stud who could ear at nothing no more. Tough! Them nursewitches got their work cut out getting through to him. You’d see their hunch-backs leaning at him longtime, while they hollering at the tops they voice-boxes at his ear-lobes.

You’d catch the old gasser first thing jiving. “But Nurse I can’t take med’cine before me breakfast,” and such. The trouble be that any patter between them were mighty slow. He always going to shout, “What?” at them three times before they gets in there. One time he get this clinker on him and yell out mighty loud. “Nurse, I’ve lost me pyjama trousers.” Now this appeal to me cos it’s kind of funnylike. “You haven’t had them for the past three weeks,” she tell him, and this softly close the patter. He an enlivened Daddy, though, and not look like he got ninety years on him. He reckons my Irish lady the most and I hear him tell Matron one time. “When I look in her eyes I can see her soul.” Matron plainly inform him he acting like an old Romeo. But my lady-witch plenty fond of him and jive scat with him all the time. Like one time he complain he unsteady on his feet, she tell him he must have been at the sherry again.

They got plenty movement in Germsville all the time. You’d get these madmen paper boys come round plenty often. This tousle-mane stud got just one brain-user on him. He got to get his bread in advance or there going to be a big bundle.

Then the belly-rack to end all belly-racks, you got this lady-cleaner come round loaded with mops and such. She a plenty cheerful gasser but lacking in dents, you understand. She had these madmen grips holding back a lank wad of mane, a strawberry-type overall, and huge, worn down-at-heel muck-spreading boots.

Now I been given this cactus by a neighbour-woman which enlivened me some. It were one of them prickly-type leafs you not got to water never. But this ladycleaner not dig the art of horticulture, and give it a mouthful of water every day. She finally ruin my prize prickle-can by knocking it fair out its pad, and busting it in again upside-down.

I even blackened to leave Germsville cos I really got no purpose to return to the outside World, I kind of want to goof off there longtime, just eyeballing that Lady-Nurse and all. But this could not be.

I returned to my regular orbit after I given Germsville the igg. It enhanced gentle Moms to have me back. Truly it did. Cos she been getting mighty graffy while I been inside.

Chapter Ten

STILL got to rest that leg effort short time so’s I let the time roll by. Don’t do much at all. Just gets to thinking and all. Recalls that way back senior school I went to. Events were always screwing me up in Lessonsville. Truly they were.

I got one of them slow-type fuse-boxes which never got a rave reply till too late. It seemed the Chief always blackened at me even when I not done nothing.

I recalls one time all us studs were changing in the cloakroom when someone tap my belly. Just for kicks, you understand. Now this stereo kind of break from my voice-box. It so happen some masterman ear it and clap me in detention. That hipster who the cause of it naturally got away free.

Now these kind of things shook me up all the time, cos I got just one main fear on me. I got mighty graffy that I be jilted out of school. To me this would have meant total death. Leastways I not want to choke Moms up and find every job giving me the igg.

I got kind of bitter at the other fellows cos they seemed to be plainly having the best of both worlds. They got pretty squaws when they not in Lessonsville, and when they present they got much to belly-rack at, yet never seem to catch detention. With me it were different. I only got to jive out of turn and them master-faces going to have my head.

I recalls this certain time which left me grinding my dents. We’d had this little football match and just raved back to glut ourselves. This dicty stud start acting up a big deal. He keep throwing bull around like nobody’s business. Got these smutty little jokes on him all the time. Seemed like he high in there, and having this one great ball by himself. Then, wham, this master-man reach the scene. This particular teacher-face were a freap from way back; would do these mean little things to them he dug not, while he’d spread those he reckoned. He got a big eye for this loud-voice stud and join in the scat. He kind of give this stud a playful slap which make him say, “Master, you looking for a bundle?’

Now if I jived anything like this at them in charge, I going to get jilted out on my can, like yeah!

But the master-man take no offence. He a little queer I reckons cos he enter into this free-balling game with that stud. That loud stud grab this jug of water off the table and soak the master-man. They gone now. Have this madmen bundle in the middle of the floor. I quit the scene, total disgusted. The rest of the studs just having one great belly-rack, but some clinker prevent me. Last thing I eyeball is that stud catching the master-man, twisting this madmen lump of wet mane round his fingers. The pad clearly gone scat. Water fair near over everything.

What softly choke my system is the fact that they dicty stud going to be prefect come term end. What fun! I don't catch them making me prefect after I done soaked some master’s drag.

I naturally were a plenty retiring stud when I started out, but I been getting crazier as I got more years on me.

One time some little studs come to me and ask me to catch them some conkers off these madmen trees lining our yard. Straightway I grabs this cricket bat out the games cupboard and starts busting at them leaves. Even throws a couple of balls up there. Tough for me that blackened bat did catch itself way up them twig-tops. Just one more detention for the clinker of Lessonsville.

I'd start bugging them master-men all the time with my bull-jive. I even got to asking this lady-teacher for a double—just for the belly-rack, you understand. She slammed me down like nobody’s business. But there was no cooling me that day, zoots, there wasn’t. I tell that lady-teacher I not unduly blackened by her refusal, cos I know there be other beats on the turf. Man, did she wild eyeball at me?

Seems like those days gone real far away now—like they never were.

Chapter Two

NOW I gets back into orbit real fast. Back to work. Wham! Back to my turf-mates, We gets to skating now and again. This a real zooty pass-time I reckons. Catch them pretty witches zooming round like nobody’s business. Some got these frilly little skirts which enliven my brain no end.

Now I notes all them goings on, cos the rink could even claim to be a barrelhouse. I not just bull-jiving when I say that some of them guys could hardly stand up straight, cos they got a load of juice on them. Some of they witch-faces making like they sellers from way back. That’s a lie. Cos they still at Lessonsville and all, yet they knows how to eyeball it round.

Then one time my sister-face get to that skating rink with me. Now I thinks she the living, repeat, strictly living end. Cos she got this pretty little face on her and a genuine build from Curvesville, I high-hand it to myself what a fine witch she is. Not like them others and all. That what I think!

Now I catch her sweet hand and skate her round icewise feeling I a mighty fine cat. It’s kind of nice having studs eyeballing your sister-face, and reckoning she far beyond Endsville.

Now I not catch it first, till this stud rave into us and say to me, “You got a fair piece there. You deal me in \

just one love-sign, Daddy, and I your slave for all time.”

I softly blackened at his scatty line of patter and tells the man straight. “She ain’t leaving my hand, hipster. Give gloom the go-by elsewhere.” I see he now got this mean eyeball on him. “Daddy,” he reply. “You won’t keep that hot-pot longtime. Others got eyeballs to see that goods train passing before them. Any cat can see by that goo she giving out, she strictly not a one-man effort.”

I shake on that but he quit the scene in one whole hurry. My sister-face now tell me “ You bug me, brother. What you got to act like you own me for? I even getting blackened holding you silly hand all the time. I could give that cat who were present a big eye.”

This ain’t real. My sister jiving like a witch-seller. “Lady, you watch them eyeballs,” I tell her, “They going to catch you what you don’t want.” I been viewing her with angel eyes too long. I can see now how she playing up to them bull-faces. Guess I never really noted before how she swing her can and toss her mane and all.

Moms have a fuse blow if she seen her, lumbering the entire population of the manor, like a lady-hound.

I recalls what happen this time some months back. I been marching the turf like nobody’s business, when wham, I seen my gentle sister coming at me with this gypsy-face stalking her. He a real dirty stud with long mane and muck-spreading boots, and it seem highly possible he got a. blade on him. I catch him jiving at her and she replying. I get might graffy at the happenings cos I not like his looks one lump of bread. When my sister-face see me she get this scarey look on her, like she feeling guilty and all. She don’t jive at him no more, just give his patter the igg.

Now I naturally ask her where he rave from and what kind of a gasser he claim to be. She silent on that short time before she tell me. “Truth is I not know him from nowheres, but he catch me up and ask me to go to the woods with him. I so scared I pretends to act groovy so’s he don’t bundle me off. I mighty glad I did catch you, Brother-head, way back there.”

I takes her word for it cos she never been known to lie, but it’s like I’m in doubt. Didn’t strike me she was making nervous patter at all. Seemed more like she about to make a double, till she eyeball my head out there.

Trouble is I not been watching her on the way up. We kind of grown apart more as we put on them years.

She tells Moms she got to see turf-mates every Sunday. Naturally Moms take her word as lasting truth. But after that skating do, I not so sure. I decides to follow her can come week-end, and clue me in total.

“I’m on the solo-list this week,” she tell me. “So’s I calling on my old school mate.” This seem to hold a clinker somewhere, so’s I ready for a change in direction as I gets after her. She gave to this little park effort, and 1 soon eyeball her meeting this mob of rough-looking studs. I catch only one other witch on the scene, so it evidently ain’t no petting party. Tough for me I not hip to the happenings, cos before long I catch that other witch and my sister snogging a couple of them studs. “So,” I thinks, “she got a guy and never done told me.” Tm choked.

I soon feel myself being softly strangled cos that guy ain’t no special stud or madmen double or nothing, just a love-sign addict. She raving at plenty of them studs now, spreading jam way out round her. I damn near bust in on the scene. Yet something stop me.

Them rough-looking guys getting bored with the free jam now, and starting to bundle among themselves. One of they freaps catch my sister and throw her to the turf. This get me really scared cos I thinking how frightened my sister-face must be. But I wrong on that, cos real sudden-like I catch her laughter. Like she never had such a high time before. She bundling this stud like a wild-cat, really getting in there.

I sink to the turf. My fury done left me. It’s like I not feeling anything at present.

After a while I return to the pad, tell Moms I think I going to puke, and catch me my cradle.

Stare into that sky, just thinking. It’s like my sister always been a white lady. What make her take this turn? Feels like I can’t face her no more, yet I still mighty fend of her and all.

A big stud like me never going to turn them tear-taps on and yet. . . . It’s like they done turned themselves on and all.

Chapter Twelve

CATCH my sister next a.m. and plainly tell her I reckon she a big bad clinker. She belly-rack at me when I tell her what I eyeballed. “Gentle Brother,” she tell me. ‘Tm sad to say I consider you a cube. Like you so square your edges is prominently showing. Daddy, you evidently got no idea how to enjoy yourself. You not recognize a kick if you got one.”

I slap her down. Bust out the pad. Got to get me clean away cos my fuse-box not going to stand her bull. She a hardened witch. That plain to see. I even feels like killing her but that ain't going to solve nothing. She still done them things and I still done seen her.

This when the brain-user reach me of taking a beat line of action. Going to get me a pad up Town. Mom’s such a gasser she give me an allowance. I knows for sure. I not getting to work today cos them guys must have known what my sister were like all along. Must have let me sing her praises wildly, while they knew it were all a load of crap.

In some ways it appear I inherited that gentle brain Moms got, thinking peoples is white all the time, yet I knows they ain’t.

Going to clue Moms in this evening. Meanwhile I giving gloom the go-by and casing the territory. I enters this coffee-bar we got down the street. It even strike me as quaint. Got these little fishes and nets and things way over them walls, and this madmen juke-box way over the corner. I bug them platter labels and finally select me a low-down blues. Zoots! I already down in my muckspreading boots.

This Italian guy ask me what juice I got in mind, and I plainly tell him coffee’s the pitch. I not the smoking type really, but I kind of needs a butt right now so I hand out the bread for some.

After short while these two guys enter and before long patter at me. “You out of work too, honey?” this quaky-looking stud with a beard ask me. I tell him I soon will be, cos I just given it the go-by. Now although I bitter at my sister and all I never going to tell folk the reason I leaving my pad. So I thinks this scatty story up how I got fed-up with boss-men and wants my freedom and rot.

That bearded bull give this wayout smile like he my loving turf-mate or something. “Man, give work the igg. We got other means of making bread. Nothing the law going to catch us at neither.”

I not wait to ear the shady brain-users but gets my can to the door like I can’t wait. Spends the entire day marching the manor, kicking stones, and glutting madmen lettuce leaves I caught off this little stall.

Got me a mighty blackened mood like Satan had me. It so happen I see’d this little cycle standing at the kerb, like nobody ever going to use it again. That’s a lie, ’cos I get in there quick. Grab that framework and orbit off. It’s like I’m not scared of the Law or anything. Just one clinker upset me. That’s the fear that Moms be shaken up if I do land in jail. Suddenly I quit that cycle. Moms already got one black one on her hands* child-wise. Sees no need to add to her problems.

It seem like years before peoples start busting out their offices and such, in one madmen rush pad-wise. Locomotives like wild, live things with vicious dents ready to get you, shoving their way through the darkening clobber.

I catch this wheel and reach my pad. Put off telling Moms my decision ’cos she clearly not going to ride with it.

Going to get me to a twist-up tonight. Going to swing my can far into the morning. Yeah! Going to have me a zooty ball.

Chapter Thirteen

WE got this big ballroom plenty near the pad, which I been to several times. I go solo that night, you understand. Soon as I gets there, catch these enlivened witches twisting like little angels. I could get hung on a bus-load of women. Truly I could.

Then I get to thinking. If I so hot for witches it follow that my sister got the natural right to be hot for studs. That I now realize. What I got against her is that she give in too easy. Most studs reckon dames is for trampling on, strictly doormats. They thinks they can take jam whenever they wants it. That’s what I blackened at. I choke to think my sister get discussed in this free-balling manner by them inhabitants of Smutsville. She should keep herself for a gasser-guy who going to mate her legal.

Guess peoples got different reasoning though. Anyways, if I was a chick-face I’d find no trouble in keeping clear, ’cos I plainly been born under Bashville’s famous gooseberry bush. I got this certain feeling on me all the time, like I never going to take no witch jam-wise. Going to keep that madmen frolic till I catch my wife’s orbit. It going to bore themselves silly. Likewise they creating this Iona for it, that I knows.

Them studs who been with witch-sellers and all, soon going to bore themselves silly. Likewise they creating this dirty feeling along with it. Now this should never be.

Jam and love-signs got to be from Endsville exact. How zooty it going to be, to get in there with you one loving squaw. Have you some nice kids and such. Strictly out of the Solar System.

I lost deep in my thoughts when this stud give me five “Where you been hiding your face?” he jive me. “Maybe you a sick cat cos you never showed at work, and Gutter done softly choked himself, wondering where you were.”

I shake him off. Tell him I’ll be there come tomorrow. That’s a lie, but I got to cool his bull-jive somehow.

Grabs many a witch and swings out, total enlivened. Then sudden-like I catch this gentle witch jiving with a chick-mate. Man, she shake me up. Then sinuous looks send me flipping. Now this truly happened before I know, but I kind of reckon it even stronger this time.

She got a mighty tight skirt on her and could claim to be the Queen of Curvesville. Got her mane puffed out nice, and these winkle-pickers at her feet. Positive, her drag exalt my brain total. I even reckon I going to mate her legal yet I not even jived at them ear-lobes she got. I move at her then, but this stud reach her one step ahead. Tough! Got to wait the twist out. Then when I do reach her she claim she feel goofy and squat a while. I give that lady plenty time to catch a hundred breaths, then get her to the floor.

Lights dim as we get in there. Band be giving with this slow drag. My mood were total gone.

I patter this lady and tell her I more than willing to lead her to her pad. She refuse, and tell me she already got a wheel which she drive herself home in. This shake me. She must be a mighty high-class dame to own a wheel Maybe she a green stuff heir.

She tell me real cool-like she waiting on this stud who playing ball in the Army at present. That’s fine! She got all she need without me. Yet I content just to eyeball her, ’cos a cat can always dream.

I never see’d such a cute little fuse-box, though, positive I didn’t. Got them quirky lips keep turning up at the corners all the time, and real goo eyes. It seem she vamping the entire ball-room with them zooty looks she keep throwing around. I give half my sweet soul to be that stud she waiting on. If I got this little princess hung on me, I likewise would have my permanent pad in Endsville exact. I plainly would devote myself to this lady-witch total.

She just the teasing type though. True, she working them eye-lids overtime, but it plain to see she not going to hand out love-signs to cat-faces.

I twist with her plenty platters, after that band done died and raved pad-wise. Platters keep going till night is past. She give this yawn presently and tell me she aim to catch Dreamsville in short while. I leave her while she fetch her drag and bug them other dames. They got nothing on her, that plain to see. I kind of step outside, grab this kerb-stone and wait it out.

A real fine night is in the sky. like the whole globe just waiting on something. Clouds is scudding across the moon like nobody's business, while this chill wind raise my mane way over my fuse-box. I kind of holding my breath cos I really flipping. Catch this secretive feeling like I planning a raid or something. Lights is mainly out in them pads now, cos peoples not waiting the entire night out. I get this kick just being there. It’s like nothing can touch me, like I don’t know nobody, got no past, no future, just the present.

My brain catching weird users now, cos I kind of wish I could really get in orbit, not just kick-wise, you undersand, but really riding them stars. It could be highly stimulating way out by yourself in that space-face.

I nearly miss my gentle-heart busting out the door, then, and jerk to life. She heading for this wheel-park where her shiny locomotive be standing solo at the far end. The doll must be loaded. Bread near dripping off her fingers, ’cos this wheel she got look like it cost plenty loaves of bread. Got this stylish bonnet and way out wind-screen. I pick my heels up and chase her can. Kind of tensed up now, ’cos there’s just these two frames in all that wheel-park. Me and her. That’s the entire list.

She nearly at her wheel, just ready to open up, when she eyeball my head. She get these fancy lenses out her drag and nick them to her face. She still look zooty with lenses on and all, though more aloof, you understand.

“What you want?” she address me. “I kind of wondered if you got a lift in mind,” I tell her. “Sorry,” she reply, “I’m sad to say I travel in the other direction.”

Now this blacken me, ’cos I never done told her what direction I live at. She evidently giving me the go-by total.

“Lady, I’m hung on you. I knows you waiting on a cat, but be it wrong to let me lumber you, love-heart?” I say.

“I don’t even like you,” she tell me plainly, and my gentle heart seem to cry. I lay down my head for this broad, yet she not reckon I any place near there.

I get this madmen urge to rush her, kiss them lips, ’cos I know’d her little frame going to haunt my brain longtime. I catch her to me. For one moment I got a handful of furry drag clutched to me. Then she wriggle inside it and slap me down. I not attempting a jam-raid so’s I leave her be. She plainly got the right to beat me off.

She grab her wheel open and get that engine moving mighty fast. Damn near run me down in her hurry to quit the scene.

Nothing but empty air round me now and them scudding clauds seem softly sinful. Night done lost its magic. I got a wild head on me to act this way.

I catch this clinging scent on my hands where I done pawed at her drag. L got to admit it. I'm a freap with women. Keeps seeing them exciting lips tilting at me, and make a wish, that I going to get to this lady-squaw and love her up a storm.

Been a mighty long day. It’s like I ready to goof off a while.

Chapter Fourteen

NEXT a.m. I tells Moms T given work the go-by. She take it I got the nadges and tuck me in with madmen water-bottles and such. I explain to her this be not the case. She think maybe I been jilted out on my can, or that I not dig my mates or something. I don’t bother to clue her in proper yet. I leave it till later to tell her that I going to quit my pad, cos she not take in too much bull at a time. She imagine I get me another job soon. That where she wrong.

I gets to thinking about that gentle gasser I meet last night. She wowed me no end I even throw away my head for some corn from that love-heart right now. Yet no amount of bread going to buy a dicty witch like her. One thing, her Daddy already seem to spread her with wheels and fur drag and all. What more she want? Another thing, she just not the selling type. She got her fuse-box plugged into the right channel there. Saving the jam for her gasserguy. He a mighty lucky cat, I reckons, owning this white witch from way out.

Wish my sister carboned her more, instead of throwing it round so much. And yet last night I been mighty pleased if that lady carboned my sister. It would have been plenty pleasing to snog her a while. That I know. Now ain’t that funny? I got an ill-connected fuse-box on me to throw them clinkers. Cos it seem like the rule I got applied to my sister got to be different from that I got applied to the rest of the race. She got to be a white witch, while the other witch-faces got no need to be. I just screwing myself up over this. I got this bad feeling cos I been softly choked by that lady. I never going to taste them sweet lips. Positive, I ain’t. She strictly a far out dream from Cloud 9.

Life going to be less complicated with no witches present. Yet this could not be. Just imagine, since I was nine I been flipping at lady-heads.

I guess we made like that for some reason. I reckon it be not possible to be entirely groovy lest you got a favourite squaw by you side. I mean I plenty enjoyed such things as football and musics and all, but where they ever going to get you? Half of me tell me I want to get mated legal come future and raise a madmen family and all, yet at least the other half tell me I planning on becoming a beat, living solo, and giving jam the igg.

Meeting that witch somewhat shook me up. If I not come into orbit with her L maybe quit my turf without a brain-user, but it's like I need to hang around in order to eyeball her one more time. It always be a rave to meet a lady who mighty different from the mob. I just done met one, so’s I not quitting the scene till I visited that ball-room again.

Now I plainly got to pass the day someways. I not getting to that coffee-bar again cos I got no particular urge to meet them quaky studs.

I remain in my pad all a.m. but my brain soon become bored, so I move out and glut in this madmen restaurant, where you got your own little trays and all. Now I just pushing my heavy-laden tray along when I do see my iady-gasser. “I recall you fuse-box from way back,” I yell out, causing some square to tip her tray over. Peoples turn round and give with frowns like they highly disapproving citizens.

My lady, about the only one present who not eyeball at me, squat at this table like she never eared nothing. Lucky for me that table got one seat not taken. Zoots! I get in there. Send these madmen knives and forks dying in my man-sized effort to reach her. “You never tell me your handle,’' I say. She trying hard to give me the igg, but then this male she got rave up to (he table looking choked. “Where’s my seat, Pat?” she ask.

Now I know Pat be the handle of the sweet lady who keeping my mind enlivened. Pat bug about her like she looking for another table, but she not catch a spare place. Just then the other two people at our table prepared to leave, so’s her mate grab a chair. How groovy! We got this little table all to ourselves.

Pat were looking a mighty sinuous dame. That she were. “You got your wheel with you to-day?” I ask her. She consent to jive at me then and say, “Daddy, I going to fetch the Law if you carry on so.”

I knows now I never going to win her round. Cos when a witch gone that far against you in front of a turf-mate, it plainly past the point of return. I not going to let her see my feelings caught the nadges. so I play the big deal. “Man, I could plenty handle them goods you got,” I tell her. “Take me in your wheel to Endsville, where I do plainly hope you run out of gas total.”

It’s like that Pat-witch get a real temper on her ’cos she don’t care who see her. She lean at me then and give me this slap in the head. I catch her sleeve but she got these nasty little judo tricks on her, and I soon finds myself on the floor.

Everybody eyeballing me, belly-racking. This waitress-witch move at me and ask Pat the happenings. I not hang around. Truly I did never feel so small as when I craw! out into that street.

She treated me like dirt, just cos I used the wrong approach. But there’s no anger left in me—just sadness, ’cos I loved in vain, and aft that rot.

Chapter Fifteen

NOW it so happen I did quit the nest and bust out on my own account. I were a tramp more than a regular beat, cos I didn’t do no balling with witches and such, nor get to madmen sour apple frolics and the like. In fact T not jived at no-one, except them in the other flats, since I been here.

Most times just march the manor and all. Kind of wished I got a talent for something but that ain’t so. I can rave plenty rhythm on my git-box, but there plainly be half a nation of studs who could claim they do likewise.

Before long time I catch the idea that I residing on cube territory, cos I not seen a gasser since I been here. Got to get my can to some frolic-pad. Lift my tail beyond the pale.

I gets this groovy type cellar going mighty cheap and plays me my git-box there much times.

Now of all the peoples I ever done met I clearly never Going to forget Beat-heart. Now I never see’d this witch with jam eyeballs, you understand. This is not because' she an ugly hag or anything. But it just so happen she not make me flip. But as a gasser she was the most. I loved her like a brother and all. I not know why she act groovy with me, cos her total disposition were blackened. She dig nothing, likewise nobody. It plain to see she had many a hard deal until she shut her fuse-box away from stuff.

I meet her this time I orbiting in the park, I plainly a solo freap with no double in mind when I do eyeball this lady. She curled up on a seat staring at the sky like she waiting for it to fall. Got this butt in her mouth and this bottle at her side,

“Rave on,” I thinks to myself. “Lady Drag from Endsville proper.** She got these madmen boots on and a crazy jumper you going to get the entire population inside.

I move at her and patter, cos I plenty pleased to meet someone who appear way in there. I not got love-signs in mind, you understand, just feels like some bull-jive. It been long since I thrown scat with a dame. Naturally no chick-face ever going to compare with Pat, but this not mean I giving doll-heads the igg for time eternal.

“Heart-face.*' i jive her. '‘You got sour apples on you?” I catch her eyeballs then. It’s like they ain’t real. Just staring way out into space like it's just an empty frame before me. This shake me up. “Lady,” I yell. “Return from Tombsville. I trying to connect you.”

At that she raise this bottle to her lips and soak it up. I got me a real crazy situation, cos she produce this blade then, dead casual-like. It could even have been a mane-rake for all she care.

“Get you gone, clinker,” she say, in this tightened voice box. Wham! No witch ever shown me a blade before when I lumbering her. I going to choke that silly Beatnik up. Who she think she is anyways, high-handing it out like that?

I bang her wrist, knock her blade to the ground, but she belt me with her muck-spreading boot and that’s it. I go scat, catch that mad-witch’s mane and yank her down. But she a master-bundler, cos she get me out flat with her crazy boot stuck in my belly.

I has to see the funny side of it Here be two Beatniks unknown to each other, yet banging each other’s heads for no reason. I voice my brain-user. “Lady, maybe you clue me in bundle-wise? Be it that you dig not my drag or something?”

She breathing fire-balls as she reply, “I told you to quit the scene. That still applies.” “Solo witch, I mean you no harm. I did reckon you was a turf-mate from far out. I guess I been wrong on that.” I tell her.

It’s almost like she talking to herself then. “I going to teach studs a lesson. You ain’t the first to bust in on me. I aiming to have they fuse-boxes total,” she finish.

I pick my feet up and bug her real close-like. “Give me five,” i say. “Then I going to pad off.”

She shake on that. “I never give no-one nothing,” she tell me, and light another butt.

This plainly be the strangest broad I did ever chance to meet, but I been a solo too long. Any gasser better than none. “I just taken a pad on this turf,” I tell her. “Is that so?” she reply. “Big deal,” I jive on. “I been looking for some beats. You even strike me as a fair example of one.” 4Tm in no need of gasser-men,” she reply. “And if your soul yearning for turf-mates, it’s tough for you, ain’t it?”

Now in spite myself she catching my interest. It’s like I got to find out what clinker making that lady tick. I knows I going to get no results hard-talking her so I soften up. “Like you say, it’s plenty tough for me having no turf-mates. Maybe you tell me which direction I got to travel for Beatsville. You know a rave outfit I could hang with?” I ask her.

Her face don’t change. That's what gets me. She never show whether she got the nadges, the belly-racks or the jumps. Them eyeballs just stare at me total dead. I kind of feel sorry for her but how I going to help her?

She just stand there and it’s like something touch my sweet soul. Them eyeballs get me yet. It’s like she’s stranded half-way between Tombsville and Trashville, with no wheel to brine her back.

It weren’t one of them fierce looks, which I plenty seen before. Nor one of them neurotic terror-faces. It strike me whatever despair she got in her, she accepting it like nobody’s business.

It kind of make me graffy to see a lady this way. She plainly past the stage of screw fears and madmen revenge against peoples. Even that clinker she got about breaking stud’s faces seem to be a minor issue with her. Cos she plainly done locked herself away within her, and what other peoples do really bother her none. I guess she hardly with me when she got her boot in my belly. She certainly not afraid of anybody. She a real little wild-cat with her blade and all.

This feeling keep nagging at me that I heading the same way by becoming a lone beat. Maybe when peoples hurt me some, I going to lock myself away likewise. This must never be.

Yet in the case of this mad-witch I know’d she taken the only way out. I recalls something l did learn way back at school, in some crummy Science lesson or something. Saturation point! That were it. When something gets so it can’t take nothing no more.

I bet this lady had such a rough time, the only thing left to her was killing peoples in her brain. Cos everybody got living people in they fuse-boxes. I mean, Moms and my sister and Pat and all keep living in me.

I catch her point. If my brain done killed peoples like hers, I not have got the nadges when my sister act like a witch-seller, or when Pat give me the igg. It plain to see in her fuse-box she got just herself living, solo. She saved herself much sorrow this way. What scare me though, is that I’m tempted to do the same. But, zoots, you as good as dead then, cos how you ever going to get bursts of elation when you can’t feel nothing no more?

She lost so deep in her brain-users she might be permanently gone for all I knows. I leave her on that. I plenty lucky to be still in one piece.

Chapter Sixteen

IT been plenty long till I eyeball that mad-witch again. I been trying to contact her, not for a double or anything, just ’cos I got nothing else to do. Visited that park effort real regular but she plainly given it the go-by for the time.

Then one day I’m moping around, my spirits down in my muck-spreading boots, when I catch her marching the turf. Naturally she see me not, cos she got her usual weird stare on her.

I decides to follow her and make the grade. She gets to this little yard where she deposit some canvases she been working at, and squat on a dust-bin.

I reach the scene. Don’t jive at her or nothing—just stand there smoking a butt. She do eyeball me after short time and I’m mighty pleased to note her face jump in surprise. That’s an improvement, cos that madmen mask showed some signs of life.

We just keep on there, silent, no-one saying nothing. Maybe one hour later she leave the bin and shoot her can out the yard. I follow her. She turn on that, and ask me, “What you want, freap?” You never answered my question from last time,” I tell her. “You know if. any beats exist round the manor?”

“If you want a gang to make you feel like you somebody, you won’t do no better than my sister’s crowd,” she tell me. “Nothing frilly-pant about it. Just a regular mob searching for kicks like little children. When they going to learn kicks is strictly not permanent, strictly not worth having, and strictly deceptive?”

Now she patter so quick I lose the vital meaning, if indeed such a meaning were present. “Where this crowd got their frolic-pad?” I ask her. “Way along here,” she reply, and continue walking.

My spirits come way into orbit at that. Going to meet me some beats, likewise I got this lady to jive groovy at me. Presently she point at this pad and tell me to hang about, cos I certain sure to catch one of the mob shortly. She off at that.

“Zoots, lady. Ear at me,” I yell. I get to her, grab her sleeve and say, “I double you at noon tomorrow down the park.” She don’t say nothing, just rave on her way, like the lone soul she is.

Chapter Seventeen

I REACH that park like I trying to give gloom the go-by. I just kind of hoping she be there and all, though I not really think she will be. Then wham, I eyeball her head out there. Like a high time is surely coming. She making like she not meeting nobody, but I knows different.

I move at the lady and give her five. Her face remain unchanged, but I plainly used to that now. We squat on this seat and light us some butts.

Now I know that if I do try anything jam-wise she have my head for sure. She got that blade on her some place likewise. But as I did have no such bull in mind all were well.

I tell her that I did catch her sister last p.m. and she go for me in a big way. She even tell me the place is open for a leader-stud, cos their previous one got his can in jail. She say there be many a blackened bundle among the stud-faces and their squaws as to the next Chief. It strictly solve the problem if some strangerman take the role.

"‘You got all you want now?” that mad-witch ask me. “Not quite,” I tell her. “I had this love-heart who care for me not one lump of bread This sadden my sweet brain. Lady, you appear to hold the key to indifference. Be it easy to achieve?”

She then patter at me in this tight little voice-box. Get me right! She not crying her heart out to me or playing for sympathy or anything. Cos like I already said, she no longer care. I guess she just dig me more than most and trying to give me the gen.

“Ear at me, brother,” she say. “It take plenty effort to kid yourself you the only living soul.”

I never going to forget what she tell me then, cos it even shake me up. I liked that witch no end, not as a squaw, you understand, but as a gasser.

It appear she done tried to achieve her state of indifference plenty often, but it were mighty hard to give peoples the igg, total. Way back at school she twisted herself up over little things like Christmas.

She pad down with this uncle, cos her Moms and Pops were not present. Now she reckon Christmas plenty, in that she get presents from turf-mates and love-signs under the mistletoe and all Yet back the pad she get nothing. Her uncle this one clinker man, and never ask gassers in to share juice or nothing.

He usually squat by himself soaking it up. The pad were never decorated with holly-twigs or madmen Christmas trees or anything.

Thus the clinker come on my mad-witch that it suit her mood better to give that season the total igg.

Now I not see this. If it been like that with me, I plainly would have had a ball while I could, namely got my kicks with turf-mates and love-hints and such. Given that uncle-man the go-by like he never existed.

But this mad-lady see things different. If it be not possible to get total in there, she rather stay total outside. So first she kill Christmas in her brain, just ’cos it ain’t like the dream she got of it.

She admit to me her trouble were that she aim too high all the time. Never satisfied with half measures, not that chick.

Then she tell me she get a steady double who she give her mane for, but after short time he bust out on her. Tough, true, but peoples been known to get other studs. But ’cos mad-witch set her fuse-box on this one, she give the rest of the manor the igg, though other guys were waiting on her.

“I made it plain to myself I not getting hurt again,” she tell me. “And the only way you going to do this is by giving nothing to nobody. Then they got no part of you they can hurt.”

Even then it seem she fail. Cos she tell me she turn them tear-taps on plenty often, cos she blackened that life ain’t turning out like a dream. She softly choke herself that she have to cut herself off this way, in order to keep together.

“My tear-taps now been out of order two years,” she jive me. “Which prove to me I’ve got what I want.” But it’s a fact that she never belly-racked for two years neither. Cos where there’s no blues there not going to be any balls either.

She keep telling herself she not going to care no more, but then she’d get asked to a frolic-pad and she’d flip at it. Things like that. She manage to stop herself in time but the brain-user were there, Like when she eyeball some rave drag in a shop or something, she plainly picture herself in it. Her brain then tell her she not spreading her bread on such trash and leave it be. But it were most disturbing keep getting these little thoughts on her.

She tell me she now achieved that state where she no longer plan anything. Real sudden-like she stop pattering. “You never can be too careful,” she say to herself. Then at me. “I been plainly jeopardizing my way of life coming here this noon. Cos it were like I wanted someone to talk at. Yeah! I was hoping you be here, and I never supposed to hope nothing no more. Cos if you ain’t been here today I been a might blackened. Stud-face, return to Trashville.”

This sudden change shake me. “Lady,” I tell her. “I never going to let you down or nothing,”

“Don’t you see,” she reply. “The more I believe what you say, the worse I going to feel if you choke me. I even dig you a little, and that going to prove fatal. I clearly not going to catch you again. I given you too much already. Yeah! I’ve given you my time and that’s more than I can afford. Give me five, cube,” she say then, and extend her hand.

“You understand, if I bust out on you now I not catching the nadges over it, but if we do become groovy, somebody strictly going to get hurt.”

She rave her can to different territory then, and leave me smoking my butt like I been given the igg, I catch her point. Cos I getting blackened now that she did leave me that way. Peoples is strictly always hutting other peoples. That a fact. You not got to rely on other folks for your kicks. That I know. Like this beat gang I’m raving with I going to be mighty disappointed if I don’t get to be the leader-stud now, cos some witch-face put the brain-user on me.

Chapter Eighteen

I was mighty pleased to receive this madmen pen-effort from the beat gang. It read thus:

The Frolic Pad

Chelsea,

Endsville.

Gentle gasser,

One of our lady-beats who got the handle, Bumpkin, did clue us in that you make a hip Chief. Daddy, we got to eyeball you plenty before giving you the grade. Meanwhile you welcome to orbit the turf with us. The motto of our gang plainly be,

Search for kicks,

Defy the pricks,

And live in peace.

Groovy love-signs from the mob total.

Later when they bugged me all they want they send me this mighty fine effort.

Gentle gasser,

It be the pleasure of the entire mob to decorate you leader-stud. We giving you honourable title of Big Chief Jive. May you play the true gasser in our madmen search for kicks. We give you five on it tonight at the frolic-pad. Tuning you out now.

Raving gentle love-hints to you, Daddy, and may you live in peace, likewise catch plenty green stuff.

All the beat-hearts from. Cloud 9 salute you.

I fair near hit the stars at such happenings. I way in orbit. Yeah! Lifted near out the Solar System.

Come that evening I strike out for the frolic-pad to get my decoration. When I get to it, the pad be clearly swinging. Zoots! No more dark sevens for me. Going to have me an eternal ball.

I catch the smell of sour apples as I get the door behind me. Some smooth cat done put madmen lanterns and candles way round the floor. Ears at this real cool platter. This band giving with trad from way out. Some guy sending out a groovy-buzz-tone, followed by another stud on a gone liquorice stick. Man, what a wow!

Soon as I enters, the cats form this circle round me. This witch move at me then. “Daddy,” she tell me. “You got absolutely nothing to fear. We going to black you eyeballs out with this scarf, but you not going to get hurt.”

My insides contract at this but I give no sign. The mob move in real fast then and black my view. These cats start chanting while this guy throws his git-box in there. I smell this scented mane under my face, and some witch give me a love-sign. Better were to come. All them chickfaces pass before me and peck my lips. Then all them studs give me five, like it mattered one whole loaf of bread. “We signing you in now,” somebody holler at me, and I feels my hand being passed through this candle flame. Then someone else tip this juice over my fuse-box and jive, “Him who cross your path, Big Chief, got to bundle the entire mob. Lest you fall from grace, you the leader-stud from now on in.”

They remove the scarf then, and I catch the scene again. Nothing like this ever happened to me before. That it didn’t.

Everybody flipping total now. Sour apples is drunk all round. I swing out with them zooty witches like I found Endsville.

Then right in the middle of the frolic I catch a clinker. Get to thinking about Pat with her keen frame and way out wheel. I got me into a fair crowd of gassers but that lady haunt me yet. That ain’t all. I no longer ear that joy-box giving plenty rhythm, cos my brain see my sister-face acting up down the park.

The blues get in my soul and I’m stuck. I plainly going to live it up, though. Grabs this witch and stroke her mane. “You take me to the moon, baby?” I ask her. She laugh on that and get her lips on mine.

I jive corn at her gentle ear-lobes then, but all the time it’s like I’m wishing Pat were present. I catch them lips one more time and place this artistic love-kiss on them. We keep swaying to these madmen platters.

Real sudden-like she tune me out. Starts waving at this big stud who just come in. “He my Daddy,” she tell me, and leave me twisting solo. I straightway eyeball the pad for another wife, but them Beatnik women don’t really hang me up at all. I love their minds, you understand, but I prefer that my squaw be a regular dame more. I dig them muck-spreading boots and men’s shirts for a belly-rack, but it seem kind of queer to rave love-signs at a bundle of stud’s clobber.

I snatch this weirdie, and we grooves to that music. She tell me she got no permanent double and would be mighty honoured to take me off the solo list. I tell her I’ll bear the matter in mind, but right now I’d just as soon not lumber any dame.

Night is gone when we catch the street. We fair near goofed off ourselves.

Got to pile up some Z’s. I hit my pad and that’s it. I reach my slab and start adding Iambs before my head hit the feather bank.

Chapter Nineteen

We did have many a high time together. That we did. Sometimes we’d get these crazy bursts of elation when we defy the Law and all. We’d grab us these broken umbrellas and tear round the turf busting at these dust-bin lids and such. One time we smash these madmen milk-bottles likewise. Tough for us the Law did have our heads. We only get our cans out of jail by raving green stuff at them. We keep having sour apple frolics all the time and marching the turf chanting.

I really having this one high time at first. But that’s naturally before I get to thinking. When I pad down at night and lie on my slab, smoking a butt, I recalls that mad-witch, Beat-heart. Why she not join in the fun? I thinks. This plainly be a crowd of gassers. She get a gentle ride, better than squatting solo down the park.

Now I not seen her since she give me the total go-by. But I kind of hoping to eyeball her head sometime, f becoming plenty groovy with her sister who tell me Beatheart be a tough lady. "She done had a blackened time,’* she tell me. “But her clinker is she give up too soon.”

Now come Summer we has a plainly stimulating time. We do take a wheel to Birdland where we do swim in weed-infested pools and build us madmen country-pads. These pads be made of tree-sized trees. We do squat us there and orbit with plenty tasty foods, sour apples and groovy musics.

Then come the real heat days. We grab green stuff from many sources and catch this locomotive to the coast. Daddy, what a fine time we had there.

Soon as we reach the scene I Hip. That crazy Sun on them little waves is plainly enlivening. Then there’s all them zooty sands, and rock-pools with madmen starfish in and all. We buys us these shrimping nets and lives on health foods which we do cook ourselves.

We got these crazy tents which we do pitch come night fall. All them gentle stars shining at us and highly enhancing them little waves.

One time I take this canoe out solo. Gets me into a crazy situation. I’m having this one great time, bugging them lady-seabirds and such, when wham, I decides to climb the cliff. I gets my canoe in this gentle cove and lifts my can up the mountain. Now I plainly acting the freap, cos I catch this zooty ledge where I do stretch out and take some Z’s.

I been goofing off plenty long just letting that golden Sun lick at my calves and all, when I hears this stereo beating mighty loud at my ear-lobes. Zoots! I look down. Sees my canoe riding way out on them wave-tops. What a corn caper!

I start to climb upwards, but then it’s like Pm slipping. Got my boot on a mud patch or something. I did think I were tuning out total then. Truly I did.

But all be well. Big chief survive the choke. He land on some favourite ledge with a nadgy can. Nothing for it but to lift up the mountain again. This time I climb safely peak-wise. Lie out on that roof like a* beat cat. Got me one crazy walk back. But this softly exalt me, cos it’s like I got new life and all.

Lift my calves and turn my fuse-box tent-wise.

Chapter Twenty

WE exploring them sands one time when we discovers us a madmen cave. This enliven us no end. We get in there and case the joint. Got to get us some boxes and candles, then we have a regular frolic-pad.

This rave smell busting out the cave, like it been a seaweed pad for mighty long. We soon orbit with our git*boxes and horn, like we on Cloud 9 exact.

Days come and go, and we please ourselves total. May* be take a dip come a.m.. then shoot our cans to the cave. Daddy, we found Endsville. But this could not last for me. Cos I got this cube brain which keep sending nadges in my soul. The mood sometimes get me to bust out the cave and squat solo on some rock effort.

What softly blackens me, is the way these little families do belly-rack and sneer at us. You gets this typical Moms with holiday waves in her mane, and what she consider the latest in gay beach-drag, leading small stud with bucket. Small stud willing to be groovy but Moms soon inform him we be dirty Beatniks. “You don’t know where they’ve been, Johnny”.

Pops come after in madmen coloured shirt. It be his pleasure to dig pits in the sand for Johnny. We not grudge him this. What we reckons is, he a freap to pretend it be for Johnny, when he want to dig for himself.

Cos of these softly sneering squares I catch the sands mainly at night. Squat on a rock and bug them stars. World seem so pretty and yet it ain’t. Stars got lies in them. You think you found Endsville, yet some clinker bound to invade the scene.

If it ain’t anything real, it’s some blackened brain-user. Gets to thinking how I’m wasting my time, orbiting kickwise all day. My Moms truly never think I going to become such a stud. She always want me to carbon Dad, who been a gasser from way out.

Why I get this guilty feeling come on me? I done quit my local scene where peoples in general did blacken my views. I the King of a rave outfit. What more I want? Yet it’s like I feel I don’t deserve total freedom, or nothing. Zoots! Now I thinking like a madmen priest. But T can’t give that clinker the igg. It’s like I reckons people got to face up to things, instead of running away all the time, cos that is what I been doing.

I had a ball with this mob, but I plainly see I not going to hang with it for time eternal. Another thing which give me the nadges, be the fact that gentle Moms been raving green stuff on my head, while I been plenty spreading it on sour apples and stuff. This should not be. Maybe I got a soft disposition, but that the way I feel.

Going to give my youth a few months more merriment, then I guess I going to tune out.

Chapter Twenty-One

WE not been here long, when zoots, we catch this madmen mob who plainly rave from Demonsville. It choke our systems to clash with them this way.

We been having a ball one night, when we orbits the sands. Stars look nice. Guys is with their squaws. We got total peace. That what we think.

One of the mob get this brain-user to take a dip. We hit them waves and has a time. Before my brain register the fact, my face catching plenty spray. My enlivened fuse-box reach far out.

We been in some time when we sees these shadowy cats on them sands. Man, we not know them from anywheres. “Big Chief,” my mob tell me. “Rave at their faces and clue us in to the happenings/’ This I proceeds to do.

Before I half there this stud come at me with madmen boots. “Hipster,” he grate at me. “Get you cans off our territory. We the total beat population of this manor.” With that he produce a blade and move at me. I'm shaken up no end. Like I plainly four bars past scared.

My mob at my heels now, and some gasser throw some sand in this stud’s eyeballs. His blade hit the ground. Tough for him. But them other cats is moving in real fast now. Someone fire off this crazy zip-gun. His aim was in there, cos one of my turf-mates get a shot on him.

I feels mighty darkened, and before I knows it,. I’m rushing that cat, not caring if he send me to Tombsville direct. I got a real fury on me, cos I bust his zip-gun like nobody's business, beat him over the head with it.

Lucky for us we got more men in our mob and we do shove them punks fair off the scene.

This turf-mate who catch a shot in him, feeling highly nadgy, but it only been in his arm. We lift him to the cave. One of our witches tear up a shirt and mend him plenty fine, like she a regular nurse from Germsville or something.

We makes us some catapults should the need arise, but we not dig bundles one lump of bread.

It not long before we learns them punk-faces been beating up the entire manor. The Law after their heads, likewise. No wonder peoples did give us the igg. They maybe think we got a similar disposition on us.

One time we marching far out on them cliffs when we do bust in on them. Daddy, they highly goofed. It appear they been hitting the pot, cos they kind of nodding off with these crazy eyeballs and all. They got this little hollow where they been acting like total demons. I catch this smell on the air. It had to be weed, while it appear they been having a jam session likewise. Got no morals nowhere. I’d give not a lump of bread for one of their blackened squaws. They made the hollow into a genuine barrelhouse.

Got no bundling spirit left in them. They too soaked, and goofed on jam and charge, to even give five. We plainly could have battered their silly fuse-boxes total, but we not ride with violence, so we tunes out, leaves them to their own scat.

Chapter Twenty-Two

SUMMER practically dying now. It been a great frolic I reckons. Then one day we got this slow drag busting out the cave, when Tom-cat rave in on us with some dame He a lady’s cat it seem, cos he only had to be standing out front, and he catch a white witch.

I move at her and give her five. Spread the lady with sour apples and lead her to a box. She seem like she graffy at first but soon she pattering real groovy at us. She say she catch bread doing oil-paint signs. Now fancy that.

I recalls Beat-heart when I sees this broad, cos something in her eyes is similar. Yet that ain’t strictly so, cos she ain’t got them dead eyeballs. It like she heading that way but she not reached there yet.

She don’t make me flip or nothing, but I reckons she a mighty fine turf-mate to have. That I do.

Now I never been hung on a beatnik lady. That’s partly what shake me up, cos it’s like I ain’t going to find me After short time that new fuse-box quit the scene; got to catch her Moms or something. One of my stud-faces up and tell me: “Wow, Big Chief, she send my sweet soul flipping. I double her frame-work yet.”

I laugh on that. “Watch it, cat-face,” I reply. “She may be a spy from Demonsville.”

Now next a.m. this cat-head got a mighty darkened disposition on him. I ask him the happenings, but he give out none at first. “Maybe you lady-witch make the scene today,” I tell him. “That I doubt,” he reply. “She got a clinker on her that only have been acquired in Trashville”

“Clue me in,” I prompt him. “Like we did make this double when wham, she bust out on my head. There I were, a solo cat, making sand castles in Dunesville.”

I catch not his meaning but he enlighten me by finishing. “We making headway like a newly oiled wheel, when zoots, she got yellow, leave her Daddy, and hit the trail pad-wise.”

This stud’s jive softly blacken me, cos I been hoping to jive scat at that lady again. It highly unlikely I going to bug her frame now. Everybody I reckon seem to give me the igg. Be it I got some madmen jinx on me or something? It been long I know since I seen my love-heart, Pat, but her image haunt me yet.

Chapter Twenty-three

WE been back the City long time when we catches that lady again. She give her handle as Fenella and tell us she plainly wish to orbit our turf. That cat-face try to make the grade again but he get shot out on his can, I even escorts the broad to a jazz-pad one time, though I give her five that I not going to make with the love-sign.

I never going to forget the a.m. after that. We had this fair old time jiving scat and such and I been really groovy with her. Wished her to Dreamsville and raved pad-wise. Now it take me some time to goof off that night, so's when I do, I deep in there till late next morn. Then wham! My land-lady bust in on me with some message which just come my way.

When I did eyeball it, my gentle brain dug not the happenings. It appear my loving sister-face got herself killed. The blues had me. My brain went wild. I bust out the pad, and caught plenty sour apples which I raved back with me. It take me long to register the fact, cos it's like it ain't real.

I'm highly soaked with juice when this knock sound at my pane. I open up. Fenella hit the sene. I got no time for gasser-ladies right now—offer her the bottle but she tell me it give her the nadges or something.

I not recall much then, except I think I did take her out the turf where we did bug about like nobody's business. Then I acted the freap and nodded off back her pad which raise her land-lady’s eyebrows sky high.

The brain-user hit me keen and sharp. I see it clear I going to return to Moms. I been waiting on tuning the mob out. I plainly got me an enlivened excuse now.

I get my can to the frolic-pad and get the door behind me. “Daddy, you look like you just had a mighty dark seven,” somebody tell me.

“Gentle gassers, I has to inform you that I giving this outfit the go-by.” I reply. “My sister just tuned out on life and I plainly must return to my mournful Moms.”

My mob tell me they mighty sad to hear of such events. “Daddy, wish you to return some day?” they ask me. I tell them I not got a strict schedule but they better not hold the place open for me.

They give me the fareful frolic then. Black out my eyeballs with this crazy scarf, and it’s like before, only there’s no elation in me now, just deep blue tones seething in my soul. Juice is tipped over my mane again and I hear someone say, “Daddy, may you live in total peace. May your path be lit with madmen fire-balls as you do rave to — feels them tear-taps going to leak on me any moment.

Then I’m out in the street, don’t recall much about nothing. These gassers is holding my arms. Guess we making for the locomotive, cos I aiming on reaching Moms this a.m. I catch Fenella at the rail-road. Tune the scene out with plenty good tidings.

Imagine, I never going to eyeball my sister no more. I even feels like praying as I watch Birdland flash by.

Life shakes you up. Truly it does. I mean, one moment you plainly calling your own deal, lumbering life like you got a million years ahead of you, when wham, you catch a clinker. Somebody quit the scene, or maybe you quit the scene somewheres. Anyway just when you thinking everything be permanent and settled and all, the whole damn clobber send you flying.

Beat-heart knew what she doing when she tuned herself out on stuff. Yet I somehow not want to do likewise, cos real sudden-like I feels this warm love for Moms hit my heart. Glad I still got somebody left. Truly I am.

I softly recalls telling Fenella I going to pen her plenty often. But now I’m heading pad-wise I gets to thinking that maybe I won’t do that.

The clinker is, this lady get full marks for being a white witch from way out, but she not enliven my sweet brain. It’s like there ain’t no madmen spark or anything between us. Yet I got this dicty brain-user that maybe she a little hung on me. Cos I see’d that look in her eye when she doubling me. It’s like she could be four bars past infatuated. I only going to raise her hopes by penning her. That I know.

Reckon I got some major trouble on me, cos that lady got a zooty frame, likewise brain. Yet love is funny. Cos you sees them you can’t have and you loses your sweet mind to them; while them who willing to be your squaw, move you not. Guess I never going to know the reason — puking punk that I am.

Chapter Twenty-four

MOMS making with the tear scene as I enters the pad. It tough for her I reckons, but she getting me back now. Big deal!

I move at her and peck her cheek. Just holds her while she cry some more, then she tell me it been plenty long since she eyballed my head.

It follows that now I’m back my pad I needs must catch a job. One thing which enliven my brain is that there be no need for me to enter the Army now, cos that would have screwed me up total.

Moms so glad to have me back, she tell me she continue to spread me with bread so’s I needn’t work. But it’s kind of different now. I got no gang here, nothing to do all day. T plainly got to earn me some green stuff. It strike me I not going to get back in the printing trade easy, after all this delay, so’s I bust in the Labour Exchange,

Some dicty bod ask me why I finally decided to return to an honest day’s work.

Now this what softly blackens me. J noticed it before. Why can’t peoples let you start fresh if you want to?

It been the same with this turf-mate I had He been the graffy type, cos his parents keep bundling and such. It so happen he have this neurotic breakdown or something. Now when he thrown the nadges off, and start out with this one happy smile, plenty ready to give gloom the go-by and get a job, he meet with much opposition. Them boss-men got these nasty little forms you have to fill in all the time, so’s he naturally got to pen in about this graffy time he had.

Soon as the boss-man see that, he question him on it. Ask if he entirely recovered and such. Even wish him luck in the future, and hope it never happen again. Now that boss-man may plainly have reckoned he being mighty kind, but the way I ses it, he might just as well have told him he wished him luck in the future, and that it better never happen again, cos he going to get jilted proper if it do.

My turf-mate naturally keep recalling his graffy time when peoples kept at him so, and before longtime them nadges start hammering at his head again. When peoples take extra trouble over you and all, you plainly being reminded you a clinker.

Likewise you got to have these crazy references behind you all the time. Now this be softly scat. It mean that supposing you get jilted out your first job at age 15, it going to appear on your card for time eternal. Like someone tell me once, “You may well wish to start again, but you can never wipe out your record. It all happened and it got to be written down.” This load of bull shake me up. Positive it do.

Anyways, like I said, this freak ask me why I want a job. I tell him I given idleness the igg. He tell me it going to be mighty difficult, cos employers is going to ask what T been doing the past few years. I see it clearly. I going to have a tough journey back.

Chapter Twenty-five

THEY gets me this job on a building site. Carrying these madmen bricks about and such. It highly blacken me, and I not reckon my mates one lump of bread. They bull-jive me ail the time and belly-rack at my past. "Cos I been a beat, they seem to reckon I had this one glorious vacation in Smutsville. I inform them that ain't so. “Wow, all them chicks to love,” they jive me. I soon get used to their patter. They plainly not believe I never took no squaw jam-wise.

Besides these cubes who jive bull at my ear-lobes all the time, I’m finding the work tough. Ail that lifting I ain't used to. Plenty different to strumming my git-box and squatting on dust-bins and such. I reach my pad at night ready to black out. Hit the feather-bank without glutting. My gentle brain adding lambs like nobody's business. Gets these nadges in my back and all. Sometimes my fuse-box feel like it been bust open. Starts living on this diet of head-ache grapplers.

I been a crummy cat to quit my mob so fast. I got real gassers in there. Daddy, but my brain got two halves to it, cos it’s like I’m softly disappointed things turned out so. I been hoping to catch my regular orbit back the local scene, but things changed. Guess I changed likewise.

Work gets me all choked up, yet being idle bring this guilty brain-user on me. One day I plans on catching my mob again, then it’s like I’m despising them. Then someone throw some bull at my head and I want to quit fast.

The clinker with most peoples is, they got to be at your head all the time. Even when they think they acting nice, they ain’t. Like when folk keep asking you your age all the time, or if you got a nice squaw at you side. It make you kind of bitter if you ain’t got no squaw, cos then you either got to admit it, and feel the freap, or tell madmen lies which get you in a right clobber.

Now I reckons people never get old if they not keep their crazy birthdays up and such But all the time you turf-mates is scheming to send you to Tombsville early.

I eared neighbour-women telling my sweet Moms to take it easy, cos she getting on and such. Why can’t people act how they feel? I mean, I got less than twenty years on me, yet I catch the nadges lifting a few bricks, but just cos I’m young no-one got no sympathy.

I plainly going to forget how many years I got on me, cos I not aiming on growing a paunch and losing my mane. Yet when you in Society this be not possible Every thing you can think of be measured m time You got to rave dates and ages on every crappy bit of red tape in sight.

Chapter Twenty-six

I GIVE that crazy brick-carrying the igg after short time. Moms not too graffy cos she thinks jobs is easier come-by than is actually the case. I tell her I’m aiming on catching the City turf a while, going to take me a vacation with my former gassers.

I hit the scene with high spirits—make for the frolic-pad. When I reach it I see them shutters at the panes. Nobody living there now. Tough! I march the manor all a.m. but it seem my mob moved their cans to other territory. I move into this little park then, when wham, I eyeball Beat-heart’s head. It seems I bust in on an unusual situation, cos some cat appear to be lumbering her. She got her crazy blade on him. This I recalls from way back. Only it were me she give a bundle to before.

This stud plainly the hipster though, cos he seem to be getting the best of Beat-heart. I rave at them, knock that guy off her throat. Zoots! She not as zippy as when I catch her muck-sprading boot. This punk quit the scene at that, aiming mean words at our heads.

Beat-heart got this real pale face on her, and it’s like she got a dose of the nadges or something, cos she breathing mighty heavy. ‘T recalls your head,” I tells her. “May you live in peace for your effort,” she replies and turns away.

It’s like her mind goofed then, cos she keep jiving at herself. “I thought I did kill hope,” she mutter to herself. “But then it’s true I did, in this world anyways. Yet I knows one day, Heaven going to come on Earth. It has to be.” She laugh then, though she got no reason to. “That’s hope though. True it is. That blackened user be my downfall yet. But I getting my gifts one day, then I’ll laugh.”

She scaring me no end, cos it’s like I got a mad-lady before me. She just a crazy turf-mate, I know, but it's so sad to ear her platter, them blue tones start ringing at m again. “Come and see my Moms.” I tell her. But it’s like she hasn’t heard, just mutters on in this pitiful voicebox.

I gets this guilty feeling hit my belly then. I sure hopes Fenella not reach this choke. Cos when I first see’d her, I did think she heading that way. Maybe if I pen her and all it keep her enlivened. Cos these characters soon jock up their fuse-boxes if they left solo too much. Maybe it be best for me that I get mated legal to such a squaw. They both white lady-witches, that I know. I could plainly do worse.

Be it necessary to flip total at a dame? My brain tell me it is, cos there’s them you love like sisters, and Fenella and Beat-heart be in that category. It strictly untrue to mate a sister-broad. That I know.

I quit the scene, cos I ain’t doing no good remaining present. “Noble heart-face,” I yell at her. “The time has come for me to return to my pad.” She don’t say nothing and it only choke me up, so’s I wing off.

Chapter Twenty-seven

THINGS start working out more groovy back the local scene. I even give gloom the go-by. I catch a job in this old stud’s bookshop. It’s kind of nice and quiet there. He tell me if I work the most, it highly possible I get to owning the business some day.

He tell me lots of things which help my disposition no end. Cos when I first get there I’m kind of graffy, looking for bundles all the time.

“Son,” he tell me. “I know you got it against peoples, that I see. But wait till you receive the first blow, then’s the time to hit back. You anticipate trouble all the time.”

“Don’t act dicty with me, noble sir,” I reply. “If you waits for the first blow, it maybe kill you, so’s you ain’t got no chance to hit back.”

He don’t get blackened or anything, just patter on. “Son, you got to learn that life is a gift. You lucky to have it at all. You can’t expect everything to work out just fine all the time.”

I ear at him, though it take time before I gets the message. I’m living this routine existence, mainly four bars past bored, you understand. It seem like I never took a' witch out or nothing. I going to remedy that.

I rave my head at that ball-room. I tell myself that I’m strictly too old for such corn, but I maybe get a bellyrack or two. Everything just like I know’d it ever. The chicks got different drag, you understand, and manes is scruffed plenty new ways. That’s only to be expected. I probably look like an ancient Viking or something in my corduroy pants and leather jacket.

I swing with some zooty dames but no kick is present. I strictly feel like I’ve been piling up the dark sevens. Then I’m just kind of standing aside, eyeballing the goings on, when wham, this enlivened lady move at me. It’s like seeing straight, cos it*s my gentle love-heart Pat. “Maybe she aiming at someone behind me,” I think. But I’m leaning at a wall, so that possibility can be eliminated. “Wow, I’m dreaming, that what it is.” “Anyways I plenty going to enjoy this dream while it lasts.” Yet I clearly recalls dragging up, catching a wheel, and raving green stuff at the door. This ain’t no dream.

“It been plenty long since I last eyeball you,” she tell me. “What’re the happenings?”

I’m all gooey now. Feels this warm glow rising at me. Maybe she just teasing my head, though, going to laugh and give me the igg shortly. But that ain’t so. She appear genuine pleased to catch me.

“I been up the City some seasons,” I tell her. “But I padding down local again now.”

“You going to twist with me?” she say then and it’s like my head made a hole in the ceiling. My gentle soul orbiting them moon men now Her sweet hand got this cool scent on it which exalt me plenty. We gently sway to the musics. This brain-user reach me that I better not kid myself none, so’s I ask her outright what brought about the sudden change. “Maybe you mistook me for your gasser-guy,” I tell her. “He must be out the Army now. I see not his lumbering head on the scene.”

“That follow,” she reply, “Cos he give me the go-by many months back.” She real groovy with me then. It ain’t like she the same broad who knock me down on the floor. We swings the enchanted night away. I got hip now, so’s I ready to quit the scene, but she invite me to her wheel. “Which way you going?” she say.

It’s like Endsville arrived at my feet. I reach open the door, sink on them feather-banks. “Man, you got a classy chassis here,” I tell her. “I’m glad you like it,” she reply “Lady,” I ask her, “you plainly jive you like me not before, yet here I be and we get in there. Do I now possess a new allure, Squaw-face?”

She look real coy then. “Daddy,” she tell me. “I dug you not way back, and yet I keep getting you silly face on my brain. It’s like you hung me up and I never know’d it. Maybe that’s why I bang your head that way.”

She flip that engine into orbit then and we zoom out into them yellow streets. Leaves is all shadowy and mystic, as they rattles in them branch ends.

I ask her if she make a double with me come weekend, and this she agree to do. She say she take me to Brighton in her wheel, and this send me flipping. It’s like she been waiting to see me all this time. Yet before, she seem such a dicty, sinuous lady, who I never going to get to in many moons. We reach my pad then, and I bust out the wheel. Ain’t trying nothing this time, cos I’m still in danger of being slapped down. “Sweet Dreamsville,” I tell her and tune out.

Got a mighty restless disposition on me that night. Don’t goof off till grey light is at my pane. Keep thinking how I going to make with the first love-sign and all.

Chapter Twenty-eight

BEFORE my lids barely done hooded. Moms at the door hollering I going to be late at work if I don’t rave it up. Glut these madmen bread-crumbs and that’s it. Feeding time’s behind me. I reach my crummy work bench and start mending these little bindings.

My old stud ask me what hit me, cos I plainly four bars past flipping. “I meet my love-heart last night.” I tell him, “who I not seen in years.”

“That’s nice to hear,” he reply. “I hope you is planning on mating the lady legal.”

Daddy, she maybe not have me squaw-wise. I just see’d her head, but this not mean she expecting a crazy ring on her finger,” I tell him. I’m lost deep in brain-users then. How zooty it be to marry this lady though. We plainly give gloom the go-by for time eternal. Yet I knows this ain’t strictly so. That’s the clinker with me. When anything nice come my way, I forgets I ever had a blackened deal. Like when I been made leader-stud of my mob. Yet then it didn’t last. Leastways not to the extent where the blues never reach you soul again.

I got to admit it. No-one going to live on Cloud 9 all the time. You got to drag down in order to fly up. I getting quite a keen head on me now. Feels I’m quite the philosopher, like Socrates or one of them madmen.

if I mate this doll-head, I going to plainly get plenty bursts of elation, and high times, when my heart sing like Birdland. But now the time to realize, there still going to be dark sevens, right on till Tombsville come, no matter what gentle diversions hit my path.

Life’s like that. You either got to accept it, or kid your self it ain’t so, or shut youself away like Beat-heart.

The nadges clearly got in my finger-tips, cos I keep sticking the wrong binding on books and all My old stud play the true gasser, cos he just belly-rack and tell me to give love the igg this p.m. or I going to ruin his entire book-shop.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I WAKE up Saturday a.m. to hear the entire population of Birdland making with musics. It’s kind of chilly to take a dip, but there going to be plenty other rave diversions. That I know.

I take this real swift bath which send me tingling, then zoots, I feed my face and bust out front. Squat on that madmen gate till I catch this classy wheel moving at me, It got to be her. Yet it ain’t, I peer through the pane, and clearly eyeball a little old witch with a weird helmet on. Ever been choked.

Before longtime Pat show her head, Daddy, she send me far out. Got this white drag on, and her mane looking real soft and sweet. This ain’t real. I never going to be able to amuse a smooth dame like her all day. This darken my brain somewhat, cos she going to lose interest and that would screw me up.

She hold open the door for me and I catch the seat. “You silent this a.m. cutie,” she tell me,

“It’s just I’m kind of graffy,” I tell her, “It seem funny you got to take me in your wheel, A stud ought to spread a dame more,”

“Don’t you bother your fuse-box none,” she reply. “I prefer it this way. Cos this I know, I ain’t going to run out of gas, or anything quaky like that.”

It seem like no time when we’s down there, ready to fly far out. “Where you want to rave first?” I ask her. We decides to just march the front one time, so’s I grab her arm; got me the most enlivened witch in the manor. This breeze come up cool and soft making us turn our collars up. It strictly stimulating, you understand, and send our blood tingling like nobody’s business. We soon catch this large appetite, and shoot our frames to a zooty little cafe. Breakers is rattling on them pebbles and wind keep whistling under the pier. We gets outside some madmen bacon and eggs, and throws some sour apple juice after it,

Pat tell me she reckon it be real nice to go on the pier then, so this we do. I take her in them crazy bumper cars, and feel like I’m hero of the world or something, just cos I steers clear of these maniacs, We goes on this madmen slide then, where you takes these enlivened little mats up some stairs* raves your can at them, and takes this gentle ride pier-wise.

We real groovy now. Keeps belly-racking at these silly little things and all. I buy her a zooty straw hat, but then I’m scared to rave it on her head, cos it going to ruin that pretty mane she got.

We has these pictures taken, holding these dirty, moulting parrots and has our fortune told likewise,

“You going to have four children,” this wizened gypsyface tell us, “But beware of a dark stranger.” Now ain’t that rich?

We enters this crazy arcade, where you got these madmen machines and all. We has a time raving bread in their crummy slots, and shooting little balls round and such. It not take us long to reach the juke-box, I send these corny platters flipping, cos it’s the words that count with me now, not the beat,

I sort of wishes I could swing with my love-heart, but there’s some crazy notice up, saying that dancing ain’t allowed, and Pat ain’t no Beatnik which, so’s I content myself with tapping my foot. “Lady,” I say after some time, “Let’s take a spray bath, namely catch a speed boat.”

We clamber down these slime-infested steps, and jump aboard this rocking vessel. They got this crazy tarpaulin in there, so’s I yank it fair over our legs, and catch Pat’s gentle hand beneath the clobber. Kick-wise it were the greatest. Boat keep leaving them wave-crests and hitting air. Wham! Whoosh! Spray beating at that tarpaulin now, while we squatting back keeping clear. It make you hold your breath and whip up this enhancing colour in Pat’s cheeks. I clutch her hand tight. Get my head against hers. I knows I going to kiss her before the day is through, but the time ain’t ripe yet.

It’s getting kind of cold after that. Time to feed again. We march the turf looking for a glutting pad. Chips suit me all the time, so chips it is. We squatting by this pane, so’s we get an enlivened view of the peoples passing by. Italians and Indians appear to dominate the scene, while we catches the odd Beatnik or two. We sees some roughlooking studs on motor-bikes, with crazy hats on, trying to do a ton through the main street.

“Love-heart, we groove it down a cellar-club tonight,” I tell her. Pat nod on that.

We enters this genuine frolic-pad where be a jazz band playing, clearly well in orbit. Lights is dim and smoke is in the air. The atmosphere far out. My head spin anew as I swing with my heart. Couples ain’t standing on ceremony here, like way back the local ball-room. Besides there ain’t no room for fancy steps. If you starts twisting here, you plenty make a clinker. Couples is real close, just swaying.

It make my head rock to hold Pat this way. Get my arms round her waist, her mane brushing my cheek. This tantalizing scent insinuate into my soul. Feels her moving beneath my hands, gentle, sinuous. I not given her a lovesign yet. I been waiting on this moment.

I lift her gentle chin with my hand, them alluring lips taunt me yet. It’s like she daring me to peck her. I’m real nervous all of a sudden, cos I never been with a witch who mean so much to me before.

“Enlivened heart-face,” I whisper at her. “Be mine.” With this I lean forward, reach them lively lips and place a love-hint on them. I never recalls tasting anything so soft. Then it’s like my eager lips get back a second time. Then she’s pressing at me. I get this tingle deep down. Electricity pass between us. Our lips like two live wires passing the current. My soul ask no more. I’m total exatled. I been born for this. That I know.

Them dreamy lights wink at us as we wheel pad-wise. I keep bugging her sweet face in the moonlight. She going to be my squaw from now on in. Yeah! We found noble bliss.

I goof off then, get this wild head on me. Going to marry that lady-witch yet. Before I registers the fact she drop me outside my pad. It’s like I’m highly reluctant to leave her side. Daddy, it’s like blasting Endsville with an H-Bomb. But the day is past. It has to be. I give her this loving hint and flee the scene. I enter my pad like it’s Cloud 9 I’m stepping at.

Chapter Thirty

I RISE real early next day, cos I’m seeing my lady again. Maybe we take in a movie or something. I’m jumpy as a kitten and Moms give me this corn approach. “Son, are you in love?”

“Gentle Moms,” I reply. “You is strictly underestimating the wild-cat emotion present. My living soul keep flipping total. I got madmen heart-beats and wild brainusers. Them are the symptoms To put it plainly, I’m hung on a lady-gasser from way, way out.”

Moms done lost my meaning, but she tell me to rave my squaw-face back the pad, cos she plenty dig eyeballing any turf-mates I acquire.

It’s like I’m so restless I can hardly keep my seat in the movies. I got to tell Pat now. Yet it going to sound strictly for the sparrows, if I start raving goo at her, while this madmen cowboy busting shots at some saloon door. Now ain’t that a choke. We sucks at these crazy lollies and all, gets juice dripping fair down our chins We has to laugh.

That blackened movie finally tune out. I practically drag Pat to her wheel, and when she about to start the engine I grab her hand.

“Wait on it,” I tell her. “I got patter of great import. Ear at this Lady, likewise far out witch-woman, a look from your eyes send me way into orbit. Dig you me, loveheart? If such be the case doll-head, will you fly with me total? I asking that you be my lady-wife. I did catch a pretty little ring that enhance your sweet hand no end.”

She bust in on that. “Daddy, cool it. My brain’s in a muddle. I been out with you twice, you recalls, and I dig not the finer points of your mind or nothing. You not even know my second handle yet, cutie.”

“Softly ignore that,” I tell her. “You going to take on my handle come future anyways.”

Then she blacken my soul cos she say, “That’s what I ain’t so sure about. Give me time, Daddy, like give me time.”

“When I eyeball your head next?” I ask her then. “Catch you at the ball-room Tuesday?” she reply, and start the chariot up.

I’m always losing my wild head. Truly I am. It ain’t natural to expect to hear bells ringing after two doubles, yet I knows it got to end that way. “Gentle nod, loveheart,” I tell her, and move into my pad, catch my madmen cradle.

Chapter Thirty-One

I GETS this madmen letter come at me next a.m. I not recall giving no-one my pad-down, but it appear I must have. I pop it open. Bug the contents.

Frolic Pad, Rave Town, Endsville.

Enlivened gasser,

Tidings from the madmen on Cloud 9. It been long since we thrown scat with you, Daddy. We been having these crazy bundles as to who going to step in you place.

You solve plenty by returning. Cat-face, our blasts ain’t none the same when you not present. The gassers is gung ho that you play the coffee-pot again. We reaching at you in cube territory. That we know.

Plenty love-signs from the Mobniks.

They got all these crazy handles written under that. I’m sad to see Fenella not signed her name or nothing. It’s highly plausible she ain’t in circulation no more.

My mind strictly made up. This offer tempt me none.

Cos I got me a dame on the scene, and that puff me up plenty. I gets this crummy note back at them.

The Pad, Lesser London, Squaresville. Raving mobsters,

Wow to every fuse-box. Live in peace. Quit your bundles. I ain’t returning, though I been enlivened to hear from you. I plainly padded down in Squaresville, and that the way it is.

Mournful Moms is all I got. Now that ain’t strictly true. I done met me a broad from Curvesville exact. I got permanent plans in mind. Yeah! I ain’t no loose goose, brothers, cos I going to get my kicks in this manor.

Get your crazy balls and orbit the most. I do hope you find Endsville often. I know now what a wow it is. When I with my squaw I there for plenty long.

Zooty cuties, your Daddy tuning out right now. Signs and hints and belly-racks to the entire clobber.

From Big Chief Jive.

(now, Little Cube-heart.)

I been taking my time on this pen-effort, cos when I look up I sees I going to be late if I don’t rave up a storm.

This mist is in the air. It kind of sting at your face, gets in your eyeballs. Bull! I’m not complaining. I hit this wheel at total velocity. Catches this seat next to an old witch who got a bag spread over her drag. She bug me like she seen a madman. Then I know the reason. This jelly bowl squatting behind, been trying to catch the seat next to her. They plainly been planning on an enlivening jive session. This old witch screw round, rave at her turf-mate over the seat. It plain to see they getting kicks like wow, jiving scat about these witch-women who pad in their manor. Ain’t it pitiful to see dames this way?

Them are fungus-faces from Trashville. That I know. It be not possible to suppose they ever known the thrill of love or anything. Yet maybe they had their jam way back. If such be the case, they clearly not recall them far off times. Daddy, I do plainly hope I never get so dried up, that I not recall my love-heart swinging zooty at the ballroom. And them crazy times I went swinging with the mob and all. Them were the rave events.

Peoples get spoiled when they forgets what Endsville feel like. I reckon that’s what wrong with all them big boss-men and such, who keep threatening with plenty big bundles. Maybe they stll searching for Endsville. I know not why they dig this thing called power. All the power I ever going to require, is what’s needed to catch my love heart to me and mate her legal.

The world can strictly bug about its blackened way, cos it never going to learn the secret. Endsville got a fair narrow path which many is going to miss, cos the truth is mighty corn. I mean I been high on sour apples, and belly-racks, and dames and all before, but them kicks are strictly not permanent. You got to really love a squaw to remain there longtime.

Then the kicks come at you like nobody’s business. Yeah! I got many coloured kicks. There is the blue kicks what make your gentle tear-taps give a little, but it’s a sweet blues cos you is crying for love. Then there is red kicks, when you banging your can at some gutbucket, swinging your hips far into the morning. And the green kicks when you think maybe your squaw going to rave after some hipster, or when you catches another guy popping cool love-signs at her. But you knows you is lucky to have a dame with a build from Curvesville, what all them cats got their eyes on. Best is them blazing white kicks when you got your lips at hers. Stars fall round your silly head, then, and lights pop at you.

The only type kicks I going to avoid is black kicks. I had them before. Believe you me. You gets them when you doing something strictly mean-cat. I got black kicks nadging in my soul when Moms keep raving green stuff at my throat, and I been soaking it up all the time. Likewise them pot-addicts and such. Cos they maybe get a wild time first, but then comes this madmen let-down. Kicks to me, ain’t worth the blackened feeling you going to get later, like when your fuse-box feel it been dragged in the mud and all.

I measures kicks by how long they lasts, and whether they be followed by a good feeling or a bad one. I strictly get good feelings all the time after doubling my squaw. No crazy hangover this ways. It taken me long to dig the path of true gassers, and all that rot, but I’m in there now. I’m gung ho to stay there likewise.

Chapter Thirty-two

COME the evening I catch my heart at the ball-room, it's like I been with her from way back. Groovy times are upon me. I keep at her, “Lady, you thinking of playing the wife, yet?”

She laugh and tell me, “Cutie, I waiting on time, like I just ain’t known you long enough. You maybe jilt me, like what happened before. I see no kick in catching plenty dark sevens over it.”

“Baby,” I reply. “My heart love you for time eternal. Ain’t no clinker about it. You jiving at me like I’m a loose goose or something.”

“Nay,” she tell me, “I knows you the gentle hipster, but I just ain’t too hot for permanency as yet. Heartbeat, may we have a blast together first?”

I sees she ain’t no quick-decision witch, so I lets the matter be. I going to get to her yet.

Real sudden-like this witch move at me, grab my arm. “Daddy,” she say, “It been long since you flip my lid.”

“Cool it, chicken,” I tell her. “You going to get my squaw in a green disposition.” Then it’s like I recalls her face. I had doubles with this witch. Yeah! She that Mimi-cow, who tell me I hail from Smutsville that time. She that crazy stud-hater from way back. “What game she at now?” I thinks.

Pat get in the frolic then. “Heart, I know not your turf mate, but don’t take no time off to clue me in, cos I ain’t highly interested.”

"Pat, this be Mimi; Mimi likewise Pat,” I jive. “Mimi, you got to meet my regular squaw who is going to marry me yet."

Pat blacken this mighty fine effort by belting out, “Now that ain’t strictly true, cat-face. He’s just a great gasser, you understand.”

I can fair see their claws unwinding now, cos Mimi reply, “Wow, what a blast! I been hung on your man far ago. I just going to catch one twist with him.” She grab my hand then, start wagging her can at me.

“What happened?” I ask her. “You maybe got run down by a wheel on your way here or something?”

“Now it ain’t no joking matter,” she tell me, and move at me real close.

I got to bust out of this, or I going to lose my heart for sure. “Ain’t you lumbering no other bull?” I ask her, plainly hoping some stud rave her off me.

“Nothing whose cat-face measure up to yours,” she reply. The twist end on that. “Buy me a juice, Daddy,” she tell me then. “We maybe sit out a while.”

“You silly witch,” I tell her, “I come out on a double already. I ain’t got no treble in mind.”

“You softly choke me, brother,” she say and holler at me so peoples turn round. “You plenty dig making jam with me once, pretty boy. Oh yeah. You was highly gung ho for it.”

I slap her down, bust through the clobber. Got to make out with Pat. She ain’t nowhere on the scene, till wham, I sees this fur drag shooting out the door. She’s heading for an early slab. Giving the frolic the go-by. I catch her up then. “D’you mind walking home?” she say in this icy voice-box. “You ain’t lumbering my wheel no more, tomcat. You got a witch-woman waiting on you back there. She seem like she a coffee-pot from way out. See you next century,” she finish, and kick off.

This choke my brain total. I just kind of stand there. Ain’t going to make no scene or nothing. I don’t feel like getting back inside the frolic again so’s I head pad-wise.

That silly witch, Mimi, bust out the ball-room then. “You is plainly acting the loose goose to-night,” she tell me. “You going to march your hot-head to her pad, cos she just waiting on a sign.”

I tell that crazy doll-head she ain’t getting no corn from me and wing off. Blue tones hit at my belly. I reach this phone-booth and jangle my heart. She ain’t reached home yet I’m told, so naturally I get all froze up she bust her, wheel or something.

I bug about. Don't recall where I’m heading. Before my brain register the fact I’m shooting my frame at this gone barrelhouse. Crazy dames is vamping it up like they reckon they got the total fireworks available. I’m not tempted. Them are witch-hags from way back. Them sorts plenty pretend they the loving chicks, but this only till you given them a fat lump of bread. Then wham, it’s like they reckon you is dirt.

I pour these sour apples at my belly and light up a butt. Some witch-woman move at me and say she be highly delighted if I buy her a juice. I bet she would! I ain’t no freap. Send that lady to Trashville.

I’m fair goofed then, got to find the door, yet I can barely eyeball it through the clobber. All these crazy peoples is standing about all over the place. I trip over some fancy stud’s muck-spreading boot. Give him the bull and tell him he running the risk of getting shot.

It’s real nice to hit the turf outside. This gentle wind enliven my goofy brain. Like I got the urge on me to jangle Pat one more time.

This time it ain’t her Moms who blast at me. It’s the lady in person. Zoots! She tell me she ain’t planning on pattering longtime with a fungus-face from Freap Manor.

“I’m raving round now,” I jive. “Your Moms ain’t getting no Dreamsville this eve till I eyeball your head.” With this I fair near yank them phone wires out the wall and throw that ear-piece to the floor. I make for the railroad and catch this eager locomotive, cos this be the quickest way. Time stands still. Then I’m at her pad. Beating on that crazy pane. Her Moms open up. Got these madmen curlers stuck in her mane, and flannel night drag wiping at the floor.

“What you want?” she ask me.

Now this shake me up, cos I ain’t expecting no Mommy to jive at me. “Be Pat present?” I ask her. “I urgent got to see her. Please gentle lady, dig my dilemma.”

“I got no part in your bundles. You ain’t busting in on us this late. Wait till tomorrow,” she say and close the door at me.

It’s like I got no place to go then, only back to Moms. I got to hand it to my witch. She got a real green streak on her. Yet this must plainly mean she dig me plenty, cos no broad going to choke herself over a nothing-guy. Yet I knows this ain’t strictly true. I guess any dame be liable to bust out on a stud, when they out on a double, and he get caught by another lady-head. So that ain’t no consolation.

I got to really reach Pat’s soul after this. That I know. Start thinking up this crazy little poem to send her and all. It go thus:

Gentle heart, forgive my head, Cos that witch-face make me see red, I know’d her way back, long ago, But now she nothing. That is so. I love your heart, and yours alone, From now until you an old crone. Your madmen beauty never die For me. Your kisses make me sigh. You flip my lady, like the most, You blast my soul, I dig to boast That you are mine.

Going to rave that at her crazy pad. It better bring pleasing results or the nadges get to my head.

Chapter Thirty-three

I DON’T hear from her for some time, and I ain’t got it in mind to write another poem. Then like a gift from Endsville, she move at my pad this eve. Noble Daddy! My heart give the gung ho.

“Enter,” I tell her. “It been plenty long since I eyeballed your frame. Let’s give gloom the go-by. I been having this one dark seven without you.”

She patter on at me like the sweet angel she is. “ Heartface, I been a living fungus to leave you that way. To think I got green at that jelly bowl. Man, I just see’d her snogging up the bull-heads total. She standing outside this cellar-club, acting like a witch-seller from way back. Daddy, I ain’t taking no more chances on you. I just decided I going to give the solo list the igg for time eternal. I be your loving wife if you still fancy my head.”

“It ain’t your head I fancy, girl,” I tell her. “It’s your gentle frame, likewise soul, likewise every sweet limb you got attached thereon. I got a wild desire to kiss all them freckles you got. Heart, them are bells I hear ringing.”

With this I reach my squaw. It’s good to feel her in my arms again. It’s like she ain’t never been away or nothing. Wow, what a blast! Likewise it seem them blackened things what ever choked me don’t exist no more.

Now’s the time I get this fancy brain-user on me, that I be plenty pleased I done saved the jam for my love heart. If I ever been with a witch before—just for the kick, you understand—I plainly going to feel too dirty for Pat. It’s like my Moms got a point somewheres. Cos Pat has to be a pure, white soul with jam intact. It ain’t nothing to high-hand it to myself about, mind you, cos I never got the urge to visit Smutsville or nothing.

But I kind of feel sad for all them other guys who done told me love not exist. I mean, you either kept your major love-signs for your lady-wife, or you ain’t. And if you ain’t you done lost a whole load of glory you never going to know nothing about.

“You thinking deep,” Pat tell me then.

“Gentle heartbeat, we marry plenty soon,” I reply.

Like I already done said, I knows things ain’t going to be high blast from now on in, but leastways I found all that be possible to make me groove. Cos life’s like that. I don’t waste no more time philosophizing then, cos that can come later. At present, I consider I’m due for a few delirious sevens.

I grab her at me, dig that zooty scent she got on her, and give her this gentle love-hint. It’s better than ever before. My crazy madmen heart-beats bust all records. We just two enlivened souls orbiting Cloud 9. It matter not a lump of bread what happen come future, cos this I know, I found that high time, when my chick caress me, jive sweet love-talk at my head, and flip my lid. Yeah! She hung my soul out to dry in the blazing glory of the enlightened Sun. I had this wow no matter what happens. Her lips is speaking at me now, though no sound be present. That’s highly plausible, cos her lips is moving on mine.

Wham! If anybody looking for me, tell the cat I’m at Starsville Hotel, Utopia Manor, Rainbow’s End.