a patona city trilogy part one.....

by RayLee, Sunday, March 29, 2026, 21:54 (22 hours, 47 minutes ago)
edited by RayLee, Sunday, March 29, 2026, 21:59

The Bromance.....

Everyone who knew about it greatly coveted a turn at the tiller of the outboard motor of that boat. It was high summer and the bottom of the sewerage lagoon that received patona city's innumerable flushings had turned-up. This is a common occurrence in/on small bodies of water but with a sewerage lagoon, the turning was quite obvious. The prevailing winds wafted the malodour directly toward the bypass highway's strip-mall shopping center so something had to be done and done fast.

The answer was a stalwart aluminium flat-bottomed boat of some fourteen length by a bit over three and a half feet width. The tiller that I alluded to above served as both the steering lever and the location of throttle control for the approximate 20 horsepower outboard motor. The task was simple. Steer the boat over and through the slimey, smelly chunks of peat-like sewerage that nature had released from the lagoon's bottom and was now floating and bobbing on its surface. Over and over, to and fro, back and forth..... both haphazardly and systematically. Separate the chunks small and great and render them smaller yet with the revolutions of the outboard's propeller until they sank back into the relative depths of the green water.

Despite the gagging stink, every little boy from 8 to 88 wanted a turn at the helm of the good ship "s.s. patona city" but there was an unwritten hierarchy. Since the pensioning of misters hoyt crook and his coloured sidekick butter macdonald, the command of the boat fell to the reigning captain of patona city's utility truck number nine..... booby moates (the certified lunatic amongst us) and razor hooey.

butter macdonald.....while still employed, had been quite adept at maneuvering the boat and chopping the blue-green slimey chunks of poo but booby moates simply lacked both the hand-eye coordination and nautical balances and systematic patience necessary for the job. razor hooey lacked all of the qualifications and was also afraid of water, not being able to either swim or float.

So the honour fell to euell ______ , otherwise known as pill.....uncle pill to us part-time youngsters. uncle pill must had been born with a miniature outboard tiller in his tiny fist or else teethed on one in his crib. From logan martin dam all the way east to the confluence in downtown rome....georgia, not italy, pill knew the coosa river like both the back of his hand and his asymmetric, ugly visage in the mirror. Lacking the shekels to possess a proper bass boat with center-steering mechanisms, pill made-do with lesser craft with inimitable skill. No one ever lived who could pilot a flat-bottomed boat with outboard motor like uncle pill.

But the municipal beaurocratic chain of command....one of either roscoe or woodrow scoggins, unidentical twin brothers, required the department head to at least be onboard so that put the stoutish and ungracefully rigid booby moates in the center seat. After a few test turn abouts pill came back to shore and requested someone up-forward for ballance. The superintendent waved the floppy antenna of his wireless and razor hooey reluctantly donned an orange flotation vest and awkwardly stepped into/onto the bow. Razor wasn't happy about this.....especially having to face backwards as the bow bench did not facilitate any other orientation but he could not project the least amount of cowardice or weakness in front of whitey, now could he ?

So they went about chopping the blubber-like chunks of poo until the 0845 break for coffee and biscuits containing the tasty sage and cayenne flavoured flesh of ground swine. By this time there had been work orders submitted to the scoggins from city hall headquarters of customers reporting sewerage stoppages. This gave booby moates a reprieve and put razor in the center seat facing forward which put me up in the bow.

Now here is the opportunity to hearken back to the era. Tricky dick had self-destucted and his veep had lost the election to the thick-lipped peanut grower. As far as entertainment went, the masses were either queer for princess leia or the flashing lights of ufos or massive maneating greatwhite sharks with greatwhite sharks and carrie fisher being almost neck and neck in the polls. Though almost all would allow that carrie fisher costumed in her scant bronze bikini (in the sequel) sent far more tadpoles down the tub drain than any alien spacecraft or toothy fish ever did.

It must also be reminded that razor hooey was a publican in the englisher sense of the title who presided at and tended bar and bounced uncooperative patrons at his home-based shot-house. He also showed stagg-films projected on a wall from his reel to reel contraption. Occasionally he obtained the loan of an unlicensed bootleg of a current popular cinematic production. The weekend nights previous, he had shown the extremely suspenseful shark flick and it had made a profound impression on him.

Back to the tale. The boat went around and around and there and yon until tiffin break. When we assembled back to the lagoon we were all punchy what with the august heat and full gizzards and greatly needing the protection of shade trees and a civil-servant traditional nooner-siesta but the bosses were there and back on the water we went.

Things progressed much faster this season than in others but there remained one sole incorrigible largeish floater that was too intimidating to hit straight-on. Pill kept hitting at it obliquely over and over gaining speed with each pass until one attempt was too fast and almost upset the boat. As the bow (with me there) went upwards and listed dangerously to starboard I spied a massive snapping turtle surface from under the floating biomass. Razor saw it too....at much closer proximity than me and it made and angry hiss of sorts from its beaked jowls.

Certainly he hysterically overreacted somewhat but razor made enough of a scene that pill returned to shore a bit early for our scheduled 1430 break where we sought for shade from the unrelenting sun and for some cooling beverages. There razor paced to and fro relating our recent adventure to all assembled there. In less than a quarter of an hour from the actual event, the snapping turtle had imaginatively changed to a great white shark and there razor adamantly regaled us with just how pill had saved our lives from it by his boat handling prowess.

And that is how the bromance commenced with razor and pill becoming ebony/ivory brothers and razor being eternally obliged to pill for pill saving his life from the vicious hungry shark.

roscoe even had to transfer razor from booby moates and truck #09 of the waste-water dept. over to woodrow and the potable water dept. so razor could ride shotgun with pill in truck #11.

The massive floater turned out to be nothing more than an upside-down moulded plastic kiddie wading pool covered in sewerage solids that had somehow infiltrated from the gutter-culvert-ditch stormwater system over into wastewater.

I would say "That stinks" but it's actually a great story!

by JimT, Texas, Sunday, March 29, 2026, 22:23 (22 hours, 18 minutes ago) @ RayLee

[image]

--
Ele era velho.
Ele era corajoso.
Ele era feio.

Part 2.....

by RayLee, Sunday, March 29, 2026, 23:38 (21 hours, 4 minutes ago) @ JimT

The Tift.....

There never has been and probably never will be again a bromance like unto Pill and Razor's. I was there when it blossomed and I was there when it cooled in an instant. This unlikely friendship, purely platonic, between two absolutely straight fellows defied customs and conventions and amazed and perplexed their peers in particular and the citizenry of our fair city in general.

Razor was of near purebred nubian stock, "bluegum" was the now obsolete description and of pantherish, radical marxist ideological leanings.

Pill was as caucasian as could be without being either an albino or a vampire. Not to mention that his 19th century antecedents were wont to mob together in the greater ballplay swamp and coosa river bottoms, costumed in the guise of restless confederate haints, performing secret luciferian pyromaniacal rites to intimidate the reconstruction era freedmen.

How Pill and Razor got to be best buds I think I covered sufficiently in the last installment.

The next day after the sewerage lagoon incident, me and Pill and Razor in truck #9 drove to Ida's cafe for tiffin. The whole way, Razor, flatteringly going on and on in his gratitude to Pill and didn't stop at that particular feeding trough. If I remember correctly, Pill didn't have to pay for his own breaktime or luncheon refreshments for many months thereafter..... Razor's treat ! And that is how the bromance began.

For quite a while, several years, in fact, Pill and Razor seemed inseparable. Evenings at Razor's pub, Pill, abstemous due to gastric ulcers, never had to pay for another ginger ale. Then there were the weekend excursions to greene county for the dog races and to the poarch-creek reservation for the slots and blackjack. Not to mention quite a few fishing trips on the rivers coosa and tennessee.

But, alas, all good things seem to eventually come to an end. Like I mentioned before, I was there also when the paisanos had their falling-out. Here is how it came about.....

One day James Dudley and Pill were crewing truck number nine where Dudley was regaling Pill with humorous anecdotes from his halcyon days as a patona city policeman. Unknown to both, the transmit paddle on the truck's radio mic. was keyed and everyone with a receiver tuned to that frequency within a hundred miles could hear.

Dudley was telling of one incident when he and doorknob frady had had to arrest and detain Razor for drunk and disorderly. Razor took obvious philosophical objection to being incarcerated and began to vigorously resist said incarceration. In the fracas Dudley was severely bitten and wisely resorted to the local emergency room for treatment.

The wounds were cleaned and disinfected and bandaged and a tetanus booster was injected but it was suggested that Dudley be admitted overnight for observation. The lovely miss olene pence, r.n., explained that intravenous antibiotics might be necessary in case of blood poisoning setting-in caused by the biter being a "bluegum".

As awfully racially insensitive as this sounds today, that was the then prevalent medical opinion of the day. Of course Pill just casually and absent mindedly laughed at this point of the story not knowing that all was being transmitted.

Well you can guess who overheard ? Razor, due to a turned ankle was on light-duty at the city barn monitoring radio traffic. When truck number nine rolled-in he limped out and accosted Pill and Dudley, glaring at them with that furious browed apeish expression of ire. Pill's defense was that he himself had had no part of the uttering of any vile racial slur or expletive.

Razor just sadly replied, " But you laughed, Pill. You laughed."

And that is how, from Razor's perspective, the bromance died.....

Part 3.....

by RayLee, Monday, March 30, 2026, 01:12 (19 hours, 29 minutes ago) @ RayLee

Cannot post the ending of the trilogy because the moderator's content filter objected to a word that was not even there anywhere in the text that I could see. I even tried spacing the one word that was in the theme of the offending word that wasn't there and got the same warning as if it was being moderated in real time by a person & not a.i. filtered.

My apologies.

I have had the same issue. I don't believe it is monitored.

by JimT, Texas, Monday, March 30, 2026, 08:56 (11 hours, 45 minutes ago) @ RayLee

[image]

--
Ele era velho.
Ele era corajoso.
Ele era feio.

Try again with part 3.....

by RayLee, Monday, March 30, 2026, 19:48 (54 minutes ago) @ JimT

The Rebuttal.....

Not long ago I shared a tale that I had written about how my old friends pill and razor became best of chums.....

Now this story is essentially true.....at least its the way I remember it but there are always differing reminisces of the same event. Pill took adamant exception to my version and here offers his own, copied here without the encumbrances of quotation marks.....

Pill speaking :

I don't remember any of that folderol you wrote about the mixing/stirring down to the lagoon. I philosophically object and vehemently reject that term "bromance" because it sounds too faggoty.

Me and Razor got to be buds after I sold him a repaired/used clothes washer/dryer set at a substantial discount. It was then, when delivering them to his house that I was invited into the lounge (shot-house) for the first time. We got-on well after that and did indeed go on frequent weekend fishing trips close to home and occasionally down south for a bit of sport (gambling).

As for when and how the friendship moderated somewhat......Razor insists that, on his side of the issue, he just couldn't abide my crude white-cracker table manners. Now you've been in both the smoking lounge and tonk parlour in his house. It don't take much of a sense of smell to detect, beneath the disinfectants and air fresheners the ashtray/wino/vomit/urine underlying malodour.

I had been invited for supper and the tentative menu was to include fish cakes fried-up from the pressure cooked and ground flesh of the buffalo, carp and red horse suckers that I had caught and given them. There we were at the table, the atmosphere thick with odours that I was not inured to when I felt a nigh-on irrepressible gagging sensation coming and had to remove my falsies to keep from hurling.

You know how I have trouble with my ill-fitting teeth. I get bone shards that work their way up through my gums from way back when that fortenberry essobee knocked me down and kicked my teeth in and broke my jaw. Well, apparently, in the negro social world, a visiting honky removing his dentures at the table is unforgivable. That is Razor's excuse as to why I'm never invited over anymore.

From my perspective, the reason that my affection for Razor waned somewhat is this.....
I won 5 out of six numbers from the convenience over at the state-line on hwy. 411 and finally bought the bass boat of my dreams. It had the latest freshwater nautical electronics package installed into the steering console and eighty horses of the finest japanese propulsion that could be. I had in that boat and trailer more coin than any single vehicle that I had ever owned but like I said, no blood, sweat and tears just $2 for the lottery ticket. I feel I had earned it in the sense of suffering all of those insensitive jibes from fellow fisherman towards my humble boating rigs of yore.

So the first folk to ride was the missus and dipstick (euell, jr.) and flutterbudget (daughter melanie). After that trip, Razor got the next ride. We ran way up the chattooga from the bluff and galesville seeing as how the water was high enough to float us. I had doubts at to the crappie bite due to the mud but it was well nigh-on time for the yellow & white stripers to begin running and the swifter, brown water never seemed to bother them.

But you know Razor, he wanted to catch an eating sized turtle. I had brought some frozen skipjack and threadfin chunks for yellow cats that was thawing so I rigged us both with suitable tackle that would suffice for either catfish or turtle. After a few missed bites and rebaiting I finally hooked into a nice turtle that put up enough fight to get Razor's attention and excite his rather childlike attention. I was standing forward of the console to have use of the trolling motor and Razor was aft of the console by the outboard.

The turtle was a softshell as big as a hubcap. I had fresh 20 lb. mono on that reel, ostensibly for cats so I felt confident of flipping the beast over into the boat without the aid of a dipnet but I did not allow for the 7 1/2' rod length nor the amount of line paid out. So instead of the angry beast landing on my side of the console, It landed aft on Razor's side, practically in his lap so to speak.

Now everyone fears and respects the various snapping turtles. They are sharply clawed and mean and ill tempered and prone to bite and tend to not readily let-go once they have latched-on. But a softshell is a completely different matter. They're quick. Their claws are more flipper shaped so where as a snapper crawls, a softshell literally swims speedily on land or boat just as it is in water. And while a softshell's bite is not as commented on like the other, it bites and bites and bites at every thing within its reach and reach it has. That swift and agile neck comes out of its shell way farther than it should be able.

So the beast took umbrage at being unceremoniously hooked and boated and took its frustrations out on the boat and appurtences by biting every thing it could in just as many seconds as it took for you to read this. Its next target in sight was Razor or so he thought. Before I could intervene or assist in anyway, up goes Razor onto the top of the outboard and the turtle instinctively takes to the driver's seat trying to escape from his ancestral enemy, the negro. Out of one of Razor's pockets suddenly appears a boche-made 9-shot .22 revolver and he emptied it at the turtle on the driver's seat. The backstop to the turtle was the steering console with $6,500 worth of premium electronics. Not to mention the thin-air and short distance between the fiberglass console and me.

Like the war stories where a platoon or squad-mate takes a bullet for you so certainly did the console and most probably an unseen guardian angel betwixt me and there. The turtle made his escape with a #2 hook and a hank of monofilament. And that is actually how that confounded "bromance" as you termed it ended !

Absurd censoring.....

by RayLee, Monday, March 30, 2026, 19:52 (49 minutes ago) @ RayLee

The problem with the filter was the name of a small town mentioned that had three small letters "it" objected to. I misspelled the town by omitting the letter "y" and it loaded.

Some human at some time had to give "it" certain banned keywords parameters.

Which bears pointing out.....

by RayLee, Monday, March 30, 2026, 20:01 (40 minutes ago) @ RayLee

since there are members here who have wives and daughters who are either given-named or middle-named with those three letters (often four letters ending with "e"). Those names can never see print here due to the censoring.

a patona city trilogy part one.....

by Hoot @, Diversityville, Liberal-sota, Monday, March 30, 2026, 15:04 (5 hours, 37 minutes ago) @ RayLee

HAHAHA! Enjoyed that RayLee. Thanks!

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