A Rat Rodder's Christmas Story.

When you live a hardcore traditional lifestyle like me there is no telling where life is going to take you. Last Christmas I had just dumped an “orcabetty” I was messing around with because I was getting tired of her “extra barge” mouth and she was starting to get even plumper and could not even fit into her “fishing net” stockings anymore. Since she was a drag she was gone, it was that simple. It was too bad about the full back tattoo she got that was a picture of me with gothic script spelling out my name but that’s what she gets for playing with fire. At least she has something to remember me by.

I was getting ready to settle down with a Pabst and listen to Elvis sing “Blue Christmas” on forty five when my buddy Matt the Mod asked for a lift to his parents pad on the coast because his sissy boy scooter broke down again. He knew I was not planning much for Christmas anyway so why not spend it with him and his folks? Since I was between chicks and the action on the streets was down I said “what the heck” and we fired up the roadster and headed out.

As I said I figured I would make the best of it and enjoy a nice “holiday” weekend with my Mod buddy at the beach. I did tell him if he so much as once started screaming, “We are the mods” I would boot his butt to the curb. Ever since that stupid movie mods seem to think they can take out rockers, but lets be real here. I like Matt and all but he and his little trench coat wearing buddies are as scary sugar plum fairies.

We were motivating along when we rounded a bend and lo and behold I saw a ride I was real familiar with. It was a 1969 Judge that belonged to a pretty cool cat name Blato. Now this guy has one major drinking problem and likes to get real “frosty,” but he is pretty harmless. His Judge was pretty hot but we had never run…and “judging” by what I was seeing we never would.

The goof ball was flying higher than the bombers over Tokyo in WW2 and had lost it coming around the bend and totally wiped his ride. It was a real shame to see that car like that, but Blato was okay.

We called my buddy Wolfchild who owns a wrecker company and he said he would take care of Blato’s car. Blato jumped in the back of my roadster and we were back on our way. He gave me his cool top hat for helping him out but he kept talking about how there was magic in it…that magic consisted of a flask of Jose’s finest Mexican hooch I later found out. He was starting to get on my nerves yelling some crap about “resting gentleman” and “little drummer boys” when we came across a trio of cats I still have not figured out.

These guys were wanting a ride and I thought they said the were on their way to see the Misfits on some island but I really was not paying attention because these guys were talking about some really crazy stuff. I could not make everything out because of wind noise and Blato’s ranting but this what I got out of these three.

One of them I think had a “snow” habit. His freaking nose was as red as the paint on the So Cal Roadster. He also kept worrying about some chick, and it sounded like pure paranoia talk. He felt everybody was out to get him and would not let him play in any of their “games.”

The guy in the hat was some sort of hit man or something. He was carrying a piece and a freaking pickaxe. I think he was out to kill some biker named Snowman in a club called the “Abominables.” He was also all about the bling and kept talking about silver and gold.

The last guy I think was a dentist, but I really had no interest in anything he had to say. He was way too much of a pixie for me. It did sound like he was the smart one of the three though.

We loaded these three “wise men” up and were heading for this island they were going on about. When we finally arrived things instantly started looking up. A total and complete doll was hanging around but a small problem was she was with two clowns. One dude was real quite and was covered in dots. The other guy was the real problem. He was some mouthy square named Charlie Inthebox. I guess Inthebox is some sort of northern last name, but I knew this guy and I were gonna butt heads the second I saw him.

I was making my moves on the doll when ol’ Charlie started talking about my car and saying it was a heap. He said it belonged on the Island of Misfit Toys. I have no idea if that was the name of this dungheap town we were in or what but I asked him where his ride was and to bring it on. Well of course this guy has no wheels of his own but keeps telling me his buddies ride could blow my door handles off. I told him to go get his buddy and then he mumbled something about capping me with a squirt gun full of jelly.

By that point his mouth had issued one too many cool violations so I took it to this guy. My buddy Matt the Mod invited Charlie’s pal to a boot party also. We worked these guys over like the three ghosts that worked over Scrooge and let them walk. Charlie kept muttering “I’ll be back.”

By this point the doll was head over heals for me and the rest of the guys wanted to get an eggnog or cider or something. That gave me a chance to make my move and invite the doll to the First Annual Island of Misfit Toys Submarine Race.

I was making good time when all of a sudden I hear the rumble of exhaust and Charlie’s annoying voice.

I look up and Charlie is rolling in with none other than Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top. They are in a bad little short and Billy and Charlie were looking to run. I told Billy I was in but only for pinks and I asked if he could handle that? He responded, “do reindeer fly?” I told him no they don’t and he started in on threats of coal in my socks. I guess Billy blew one too many brain cells while on tour but the race was on. He got a big smile on his face and started talking about some ho, I can only assume that was Charlie.

Blato acted as flag man and the race was on.

It was not much of a race and I got him pretty good.

He tried to get out of handing over his pink slip so once again I had to resort to violence. I felt bad for beating on Billy and hoped he would recover in time to go on tour.

The guys and I headed on out for Matt’s parents place but I heard that Billy took Charlie into the woods and went all Deliverance on him. I left the doll behind because she was starting to turn me off “ragging” on me too much.

The rest of the holiday was great for me but for some reason all the kids were sad on Christmas morning. I heard that Santa had lost his sleigh, been beat up by some guy, and then got arrested for murdering somebody so no toys were delivered. It all apparently happened in the very same town I raced Billy in. I hope Billy made it home okay.

Anyhow, I hope everyone has a safe and happy Christmas.

Yours in Rat Rodding,

The Rat Rod Rocker