Search This Blog

Sunday, April 1, 2012

In Which Beelzebub Drives A Super Shuttle Van

Okay, you know the economy is in a serious down turn when the Dark Lord himself takes a part-time job driving an airport hack. And guess what...

He drives like a fucking KENNEDY!

No shit. Thank the baby Jesus we didn't go near any shallow slips of water.

No sooner had I plopped my posterior on the worn, over-occupied seat, he punched the gas and sent the Chariot of Fiery Death swerving into traffic, only to slam on the brakes 50 yards away to pick up another damned soul for transport into Manhattan. Good thing I still have cat-like reflexes because I nearly bounced off the door. I was never so glad to strap on a seat belt in all my wretched life.

I swear I saw Lucifer's eyes glow red with delight in the rearview mirror.

FYI-Satan is a demonic little shit with shaggy, dark hair and 70s porno mustache who refuses to drive in a straight line.

What should have taken one hour, became a grueling two hour journey rounding turns on two wheels, flying down narrow streets, braking at the last minute for crossing canines. (Apparently even the Prince of Darkness has a soft spot for the adorableness of dogs. Who knew.)


Up next... MY BREAKFAST!!

As if this erratic ride couldn't get any worse, the van had a major funk all it's own. It was epic, Dude. A lethal combination of ass, crotch rot... and the irrefutable stench of lost hope.

And then he unwrapped another one of these sickeningly sweet bad boys.
yeah...that'll take care of the Zombie smell

Sorry BeBe. Taint no amount of yellow pine-shaped air freshener gonna mask the fetor of the decaying human spirit.

(I said "taint". hee hee)

By the time I fell out of the door onto the hotel foot path, I had lost my will to live. I felt both relief and guilt watching the despair in the hollow eyes of the remaining travelers trapped in Mr. Toad's Wild Ass Shuttle Ride. I swear I could hear the echo of demonic laughter as the van lurched forward, cutting off a cabbie. This is why the Pope kisses the tarmac.

There was nothing Super about that Shuttle except the stench, nausea and regret.

No comments: