Snake and Freaky John return to rock your Friday night…

These being Snake’s wheels, it was up to Snake to turn on the radio.  Recognizing the song playing, he announced, “The Who.”

Freaky John was rolling a joint on the dash.  “Who?”

Snake nodded.  “Yes.”

Freak raised his eyebrows.  “Doesn’t sound like Yes.  Maybe the Stones.”

Snake shook his head.  “Who.”

“The Stones, man, fuckin’ Mick Jagger.  ‘I can’t get no-oo, sat-iss-fack-shun…’”

“Not the Stones, dickhead, this is fuckin’ ‘Baba O’Riley.’”

Perplexed, Freaky John blew a smoke ring.  “Pop a wheelie?”

Snake pounded the steering wheel.  “No!  From Who’s Next!”

“I don’t know who’s next, we gotta wait for the next song and shit.”  Freak leaned back and took another nice big hit.  This was really good shit.  And this song kicked.  Ass.

Snake gritted his teeth.  “The album Who’s Next, brainiac!  Gimme that!”

“Snake, man, this station don’t play whole albums.”  Freaky John passed the bud to his colleague.  “They got fuckin’ Two-for-Tuesday, though.  That rocks.  Unbelievable.”

Snake took a hit and passed the bud back to Freakster.  “The Who, you fuck.  Townshend, Daltrey, Entwhistle, Moon – the goddamn, cocksucking, motherfucking Who!”

Freaky John relaxed.  “Oh, The Who.”

“Yes.  The Who.”  Snake released his death grip on the wheel.

Freaky John yawned and contemplated the dashboard.  “That was my next guess.”

Copyright 2004 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved. Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.