Dead Dogs Don't Roll Over
Written by: Alex Sandell


Chapter 34
Ho, ha, ha . . . hoo-hooo

After my lame Elvis impersonation, the security guards drag me to the staircase, where I meet up with Debbie. Debbie is another forty-five-year-old that has never progressed past the age of seventeen. "Wayne!" she declares, sounding genuinely astonished, "what's happenin'???" She makes a weird sound that I assume is heavy breathing, "what did you do?" The biggest security guard decides to answer Debbie's question for me, "Wayne here thinks he's the next Elvis Presley." Debbie looks confused, "Elvis is dead," she says. "That's what you think," I return, managing to squeeze it out before I’m gagged with some sort of sock-like item.

I am being pulled through the open door to the staircase when Debbie turns to me, points her finger and yells, "Wayne . . . Tequilaaaaaa!" At first I try to fake a smile, but then I remember the sock like device in my mouth. "Tequila," I say back, the thing in my mouth causes it to sound more like a muffled "taqueerbra."

Debbie smiles, obviously thinking that she, once again, brightened my day. About two months ago, Debbie was counting me out of my bank and the old song "Tequila" tunefully played from the speakers "Broken Arrow" has hooked into its ceiling. She immediately screamed "Pee Wee!!!" referring to Pee Wee Herman, the annoying character Paul Reuben portrayed, before he was caught whacking his willy is some sleazy theater. She then started doing that really stupid dance that Pee Wee Herman did in the movie "Pee Wee's Big Adventure." The dance is really basic, I think you point your fingers at your genitalia, or something. Hey, maybe he was just doing the "Tequila" dance back in that sleazy theater.

Debbie thought she was being real funny by doing this dance while saying "Tequila," over and over again. Since she's a manager, I felt compelled to indulge her odd sense of humor, so I put out this fake chuckle. It sounded something like "ho, ha, ha . . . hoo-hoooo," not at all similar to my real laughter which sounds sorta like "heh, heh, heh, baa, ha, ha." Still, I've noticed that when people think that they're being really cute or amusing, they're too busy mentally patting themselves on the back to notice any courtesy laughter.

The only problem was, this was one time where my artificial laughter was too convincing. Debbie became enamored over her own dancing. My courtesy laughing made her feel one-hundred percent sure that I just got the biggest kick out of the way she deepened her voice, puckered her lips, pointed her finger and slowly said "tequilaaaaaaaa."

As I said before, she was a manager, so I had to indulge her. Every time she said "tequila" I let out a fake giggle. If she did a short dance while saying "tequila" I let out a brisk, plastic, but real enough sounding, laugh. This just made Debbie so proud. She'd always laugh along with me, cheeks rosy red and eyes big and bright, overjoyed that she was so dang funny.

After two months of this "tequila" crap, I’ve began getting nauseous every time I hear the damn word (not to mention drink the damn drink). Just those three vile syllables make my stomach feel like I just downed about half a gallon of the junk. "Hi, Debbie," I say, every time we pass one-another in the hallway, I then try to make a quick getaway before she says the word. No matter how fast I go, Debbie usually catches up to me. "Wayne," she'll say, gigantic grin beaming across her cigarette-wrinkled face, "tequilaaaaaaaa." "ho, ha, ha . . . hoo-hoooo," I'll "say" back as I walk briskly to my destination, before she figures out I’m faking it.

And now, here I am, handcuffed and gagged, being dragged into the basement, with a smiling Debbie ten feet behind me. Did she have to say it now, at the onslaught of my impending doom? I shudder when I think that "tequilaaaaaaa" just may be the last word that I ever hear.

Go to: Chapter 35

1997 Alex Sandell but, if you're a book publisher and, you wanna get this puppy out, please get in touch with me, hand me a nice, big contract and, of course, a 12 pack of Grape Soda and maybe we can do lunch. liquor

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