Ray's Thought for the Day - Ray and Olwen 9

Ray was cruising, checking it out, listening to the radio. Now the radio in Ray’s Crown Vic was too cool also for it only played what Ray liked, so Ray was listening to some rock-a -billy. So even if an ominous racket was emanating from the engine or a tire well, which would never happen ever with this particular Crown Vic, Ray wouldn’t hear of it. And if some unpleasant noise afflicted Ray from without, Ray would turn up the radio, and then, in those parts, none would hear nought, but Ray’s radio.

Ray was cruising. “Time for a little something to eat. Let’s see. First, I’ll have these lemon cupcakes for they should always be et first on account of dental hygiene requirements. Mmmm. Delicious! Now I’m right thirsty from those delicious cupcakes so I better have me an RC. Mmmmboy. That RC is a thirst slaker, fer sure. Now for some protein and some salt for dental hygiene. Chomp, chomp, chomp. Mmmmm. Now, all you cans and wrappers, back in the sack. Whoa! Those peanuts made me thirsty. Ha! What have we here in Cerridwen’s sack? Well I swan, a plumb full icy cold can of RC. Ha! Gulp, gulp, mmmmmm!"

Ray cruised along in this fashion for many a mile, but anon the Crown Vic cruised to a halt before a great white palace surrounded by a great fence and along and in the midst of the great fence whereat the Crown Vic halted there stood out a great gate. But the great gate was shut. “Whut’s this then. I cain’t get in if the gate’s shut.” Ray turned the radio down, rolled down the window, leaned out the window, and hollered, “Open the gate. Lemme in. Open the dern gate. Lemme in. Somebody in yonder needs to open the gate and lemme in.” Then Ray remembered the horn on the Crown Vic. Like every singular item on the Crown Vic, the horn button was special, for it featured a tiny naked lady in its midst and if Ray pressed with his thumb on the left bosom of the naked lady, the horn played one stentorian tone, and if Ray pressed with his thumb on the right bosom of the naked lady, the horn played yet another stentorian tone. This pleased Ray so much that he continued honking and hollering at the gate long after he espied a big homely lady, attendant at the gate, sprouting red in the face from the effort of shouting and gesticulating in Ray’s direction.

“All righty then. I see the stentorian tones I play have at last got your attention.“ Ray hollered. “Be ye the gate keeper?”

“You must be a fool to know me not for I am indeed the gatekeeper of the Kinglet, famed throughout the land, and indeed so important am I that I have assistant gate keepers also, both Chitlin’ of the many secret locations and Rumpler who walks about with his underwear on his head.”

“Then if yer the gate keeper, and not some cow, hobbled there to graze upon the grass, open the dang gate!”

“No. I will not.”

“Why won’t ye open the gate?”

“The Kinglet has gone to his supper, or retired or is disporting about or he may be watching TV, or performing some other of his many important duties, or perhaps he is ensconced in the comfort station performing some needful ablutions. So with all this that the Kinglet may be engaged in, none may enter. So you should get away from the gate and check into a tourist court. There are some very nice tourist courts about and many of the rooms come with private comfort stations. Plus, there is usually some place to get a hamburger nearby and if you have any spare change the clerk at the tourist court can find you a nice lady to spend the night with. You will do no worse at a tourist court than you would with the Kinglet. Then tomorrow , if you turn up again at the gate, I, Hughes of the Honeyed Tongue, or one of my assistants, either Chitlin or Rumpler, may let you in.”

“All righty then, Honey Tongue. If you won’t let me in, I shall play stentorian tones upon my horn and holler out such foretellings that all those within shall loose their bowels, and all the ladies shall get the cramps, and all the men shall enjoy those same cramps, and the plumbing in all the comfort stations shall burst asunder. Now let me in.”

“No I will not. Yet this will I do, I will go and ask the Kinglet if I should let you in.”

Then Hughes the Honeyed Tongue went into the palace where she searched about until she found the Kinglet ensconced in his favorite comfort station. And Hughes loosed her Honeyed Tongue upon the door of the comfort station for she knew the Kinglet was beyond the door and would here her discourse also. “Mighty Kinglet, I was with you in Texas, before you did conquer that state, and I was with you on the long trail to the palace. And many at the palace I have turned away to spare you ugly and evil sights. But today there has come an especially nasty boy to the gate. And that very same very nasty boy demands entry and he will not leave the gate and is making much racket at the gate and honking a stentorian horn and shouting out terrible foretellings.”

“Heh, heh. Got to just wipe this up now. Heh, heh. It’s OK Hughes. He’s my first cousin, Ray. You shall let him in.”

And Hughes hoofed it back to the gate then and threw the great gate wide open and Ray drove through the gate, honking happily, and the radio blared, full out, “they’s the truth, the truth, a wonder workin’ truth in the tasty skin of the pig,” for Ray had switched the radio from rock-a-billy to the Druid Gospel station.