Steal My Stuff: February 2010

An Oldsmobile rattled over a snow-packed road.

A far-off scream suggested that children were playing with their Mountain Boy Sledworks Ultimate Flyer late into the night.

The flickering light from a fire in a Basco fifty-five gallon drum partially illuminated the wall of an alley.

A silhouetted figure flicked open a Ronson cigarette lighter and held the flame near its mouth and nose. A cigarette filled the mouth, while a quick nostril flair filled the nose with the scent of Marlboro's finest.

Footsteps. Another figure approached, sauntering reluctantly. It stopped and paused, a few feet from the Basco drum. It waited until it had garnered the attention of the silhouette before talking.

'I'm here,' it said, in a dispirited southern drawl.

'Glad you could make it, Jeffrey,' said the shadowed figure.

Jeffrey pushed the tip of his American Eagle Cap down and rubbed his hands near the warmth of the fire. 'Can't say I'm too sure of it, still.'

'Not gonna leave me high and dry, are ya Jeffrey?'

'Hey, we was nothing but kids the last time,' said Jeffrey.

'All right, all right; no need to get itchy,' said the calming voice. 'Look,' it continued, 'You wanna help your country...don't cha?'

'Now you know I'm a patriot, Ken,' said Jeffrey.

'Good, good,' said Ken. 'And as patriots, we gotta do whatever it takes to defend our country. Am I right?'

'Right, right,' said Jeffrey.

'This is what it takes, Jeffrey,' said Ken, emphasising the first word. He bent down and pulled out something from behind the drum.

'Whoa, put that thing away 'til we need it,' said Jeffrey.

'Now who do you think's gonna mess with a man holdin' a God-damn rocket launcher?' said Ken. 'Come on now, Jeffrey. This thing means power.' His eyes lit up as he took a test aim at the large Toys 'R' Us building across the street.

'I jus' don't get why we have to do it this way,' said Jeffrey.

'It stands for ever'thing that's American. Ever'thing we hold dear. That's why.'

Ken re-aimed the Raytheon Missile Systems rocket launcher at a large Coca-Cola billboard.

'And once it's gawn,” continued Ken, 'things'll change. Folks like you an' me need to kick-start the greatest country in the world. Lemme ask ya somethun: what's the best thing about America?'

'My momma's apple pie,' said Jeffrey.

'Well I must say your momma makes some fine apple pie, Jeffrey. But how many times have I told you, don't be no stereotype. 'Nuff of those in books 'n' such.'

'Sorry, Ken.'

'Think bigger, Jeffrey. What's this country founded on?'

Jeffrey thought for a moment. He started: 'Capit...'

'Capitalism!' enthused Ken. 'We're on a highway to socialism, Jeffrey. Now sure, the ee-conomy ain't where is should be. But that's where me and you come in.'

'But killin', Ken?'

'He ain't even real, Jeffrey. He's a...' Ken scratched his head over his black Nike beanie, '...a sym-bowl.'

The sound of bells jingling interrupted.

'There he is!' shouted Ken, almost throwing the Raytheon Missile Systems rocket launcher at Jeffrey. 'It's up to you now.'

Jeffrey expertly pressed some buttons on the Raytheon Missile Systems rocket launcher and pointed it up in the sky. A red whoosh flashed by.

'A war veteran and a patriot,' said Ken, looking on. 'You truly are a God-damn American hero.'

Jeffrey took aim as the sled raced by above them.

'Ho, ho, ho!' exclaimed the distant voice.

Jeffrey paused. 'You sure this'll fix things?' he said.

'All those kids'll wake up in the mornin': no present. What do ya think mommy and daddy are gonna do? They're gonna go out and buy more presents, stim-you-latin' the whole ee-conomy.'

'But where'll they get the money for the presents, Ken?'

'God damn, Jeffrey, do I have to do all the thinkin' round here? They buy from shops. The shops make more money. The shops'll then pay people more. Pretty soon everyone walks out a winner.'

Satisfied with the answer, Jeffrey waited until he saw the whites in Santa's eyes before firing off the missile...