by Shon Toney
Sarah :Â fuck.. sorry about last night.. whatever i did… sorry!
Shon :Â oh sarah.. where do i begin? so after you hotwired the ice cream truck, you pealed out doing donuts in the parking lot, shouting, “I am the jaguar woman!” kicking up clouds of dust choking everybody out like some sort of group cinnamon test.. i was eager to grab one of those ice cream treats shaped like a foot with bubblegum in the toe and wedge it onto the brake pedal but you grabbed my hand and held it up as if pronouncing the victor and said, “you & me – baldy (you were calling me baldy at this point).. we’re gonna thelma & louise this hunk of junk.. woohoo pop THIS weasel bitches” and you hit the switch that got the ice cream truck jingle playing and we slid out onto the vintage streets of walla walla tokyo drift style.. i was worried, i admit, i asked you if perhaps we should go back to the safety of beer pong and you shouted “beer pong is for drunks with tiny balls!” and punched the ice cream truck accelerator.. from there we began our cross country antics.. sticking frozen treats in mailboxes shaped like small barns and filling up the back with lawn ornaments shaped like frogs.. you shouted “whatcha gonna do now milton freewater! jaguar woman done bit your frog head off!” so we took the frogs to a spillway near a mossy creek where a collection of decomposing couches happen to be and set all the frogs up into an elaborate orgy.. i tried to map us on my phone and you kicked it out of my hand shouting, “haven’t i taught you nothing baldy! sit your sweet ass down – jaguar mommas got the wheel!” that’s when you started showing off your stunt driving, popping the ice cream truck up on two wheels so that i would fall into your lap.. you face palmed me and said “shhhh… i didn’t bring you way out here to listen to no bullcrap about speed limits..” i was trembling like a baby bird and you told me so.. finally figuring out how to get james brown to go through the speakers on the roof instead of just the stereo.. “dance baldy! dance!” with a tear in my eye i did my best to twist a dance move for you but the country roads kept me thrashing unintentionally.. so you cut out for a highway.. some dude in an orange jumpsuit was hitchhiking across from the prison and we scooped him up.. turns out he knew a lot about banks and you began insisting we go “make out with dead presidents” and hit a U-turn to get us racing back downtown.. i was not hip to these new antics but you looked me deep in the eyes and said “we both need this.. don’t you back out on me now baldy!”.. that resolute glare was infectious and i nodded “fuck it”.. the caper only took a few minutes.. the bank robbing hitchhiker knew his way around security and vaults.. but we didn’t plan well and you commanded us to get naked and fill our clothes with loot while you stuffed your bra with diamonds.. it was all going surprisingly smooth considering that i now realized you might be drunk.. our only mistake was stopping at a late night corndog vendor.. he didn’t have any change for thousand dollar bills and didn’t want anything to do with our deranged crew.. you shouted, “gimme that damn hot dog stick you backwards hick!” and slapped him with diamonds.. well the cops caught wind of our corndog deal gone awry and you pointed to the penthouse topping whitman hotel and said “move it baldy! i got a plan..” so up the stairs i ran butt naked, leaving a million dollar trail of confetti.. we were panting, bodies heaving heavily as we rounded the last flight of steps.. bursting out onto the crown of walla walla which i kept thinking resembled the finale of ghostbusters but you just said “get yer head out of the eighties baldy!” you were constructing a make shift glider from curtains, curtain rods and the underwire from your bra.. but it had all gone too far.. i backed away from the edge just as the police reached us.. you belted one last “i am the jaguar queeeeeen!” as you stepped off the precipice, your wings dipping heavily on onion scented winds, spilling a glittering trail of diamonds from your cleavage.. and that was the last i saw of you.. glad to hear you’re safe and somewhere with facebook access..