transformedia

There was still a lock on a lock on the chain on the gate. Stead of just the lock on the chain there was always the lock on a lock.  I put the Crown Vic in park and while going to the gate a hairy head with an eyeball in it peeked through the chain-hole. I shit a little. I unlocked the lock on the lock with some caution, let the mess clang down on the tin covered gate noisily and pushed. As the gate clanked and scraped inward across the cinders I saw what the hairy headed eyeball holder was attached to. Fucking horror-show thing all dirty and floppy scootched sideways but not completely away. “What you doin here why you here youre not coming in here why you here??” Standing and looking at me and shaking and holding a wrench and a rock he says this. I says ” NuNu know you’re here. He’s gonna be pissed off you here an he don’t know.” “He knows you little stroonz, he knows everthing. How you know Nu?” “Its my Grampa NuNu…how you know ‘im?” “I know him” says the bag of rags with the rock and the wrench,” I know him a long time and you ain’t Paulie.” The hairy eyeball is now telling me who I am.