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Oh boy, oh boy oh BOY!
Standing by the side of the road in the middle of
the night 'cause you were so excited you couldn't wait 'til morning, you
can almost SMELL the rich "bling bling" of Pestilential Pete's hidden
treasure! Even the steady stream of cars ignoring your upright thumb,
the ever thickening fog, the nagging suspicion that somebody once told
you something about hitchhiking not being safe and the dew condensing on
your clothes can't shrink the greed boner tightening your toughskins!
But wait! Is that beat
up old '58 Plymouth Asti Spumonti slowing down? It is! As the passenger
door creaks eerily open you're so overjoyed to be on your way you hardly
notice how much bondo is holding the car together or the icy, crypt
scented wind that issues from the door like a belch from the mouth of a
scary, scary corpse! Boy! You sure are some kind of idiot!
The shadow cloaked driver asks where you're headed and you tell him
Epcot. "Well now. Ain't that a coinky-dink. That's where I'm a going,
too. Right after I pull off into this deserted weigh station, strangle
you, hang your kidneys round your neck and put a vintage wedding dress
on your mutilated corpse!"
You scream and scream and scream as...
The mysterious driver
chuckles.
"Hell, sport, I was just a pullin your leg. Name's Dix, Dix Spickler.
I'm just a lonely, traveling homeopathic parasite expeller, cruising the
highways and bi-ways of this great land of ours, clearing people's
bodily tracts of pygmy bladder leeches, pancreatic chiggers and the
occasional colon shrew. Homeopathically. I'm on my way to Epcot for the
annual Homeofest. It'd be my pleasure to drop you, if you'll split me
for gas money. Of course, if you'd like to save a little of your cash,
we could always work us out a trade..."
A certain sixth sense has begun to warn you that maybe, just maybe, you
actually are in some kind of danger. It's probably just a jim dandy case
of the heeby jeebies, but you ask him what he means instead of instantly
agreeing, just to be on the safe side.
"Well, now, son, it's like I said. I'm a very lonely homeopath, and the
road is a cruel mistress, and I'm not sure how well I get along with
mistresses anyway, them being most often of the womanly persuasion and
me being a Homeopath. So if'n ya'll wants to know what I meant by trade,
why don't you... TAKE A LOOK SEE IN MY TROUSERS!"
You decide to:
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