Bill then took Larry over and introduced him to his date for the evenin’. The poor boy looked over at me like a coon dawg that’s treed a skunk. Larry's date had a left thigh that was thicker than his waist. Nonetheless, since Larry had agreed to go on this date, he had no choice but to sit next to Mabel Nadine. See, cowboys and rednecks do whatever they say they will, ‘cause our word is bindin’. Larry didn’t drink, although I’m sure he wished he did right soon enough.
In less than an hour we were all wrapped up watchin’ some alien creature eatin’ a town up north. Being a southern gentleman, I shared a beer and my chew with my date. I opened my second beer a little later (after lookin’ at her my first one went down quickly) and relaxed a bit. My date spat a string of brown juice out the winder, turned toward me, leaned over, and gave me a stomach turnin’ kiss. I say stomach turnin’, because that’s the only way to describe a French kiss from a girl with a beard that’s chewing. It was sort of like kissin’ my uncle Henry would be, I suspect. While I thought I had it bad, it was nothin’ compared to what my brother was goin’ through.
All kinds of noise broke loose as alien’s started eatin’ a bus load of tourists. I heard a very loud scream. Now, a scream ain’t really unusual durin’ a science fiction movie, except this one was real close, in the next car. Bill and I scrambled over to the car, assumin’ Larry's overweight date had suffered a heart attack.
Larry's body was forced up against the car door with his head hangin’ out the open winder. I saw saliva drippin’ from the left corner of his open mouth. Nadine kept calling Larry her “little porcupine”. We had to act fast or my brother would end up being a greasy spot on the front seat of a ’55 Chevy in a matter of minutes. So, in desperation, I took another drink of beer and thought on it a spell.
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