Sixty Foot Whip Antenna
Original Air Date: August 6, 2001
Special Guest Star: Mickey Rourke as Rat Davis
Injuries never took long to heal for the Walking Man, although they had a way of lingering for years after the physical pain dissipated. He was walking down the road once more. It was the only thing in life he could be sure of. No matter what the flavor of life's latest lesson, he always walked out of it all with his head up and eyes facing forward.
A black Ford Mustang pulled up to the curb alongside the Walking Man. The windows were tinted to the extreme side of black and there was no evidence of life inside the vehicle aside from the fact that it had driven up and parked. The passenger side door opened, accompanied by a strangely pneumatic sound. Inside the car were wildly flashing dark blue and scarlet LED lights in a cacophany of orchestral rhythm. Their rhythm was joined by a loud, pounding stereo guided by a secret subwoofer hidden in another city altogether.
"Give ya a ride, buddy?"
The man leaning across the front seat of the Mustang was wearing dark sunglasses, slicked back hair, a pencil thin moustache and an unfiltered cigarette dangling from his lip while he spoke. He smiled crisply and maniacally.
The Walking Man nodded and stepped into the car. He took the offered seat, sliding down into the black leather bucket seat, whispered a "thank you" to the driver and pulled the door closed.
"Name's Rat Davis. Never seen you 'round here before."
"I've never been around here before."
"You are one stone fucking cold bastard, aren't you? I've seen you walking up and down the street for days. Figured you were either fucked up on junk or a stone fucking cold bastard."
Rat Davis burst into hysterics and stepped on the accelerator. The Mustang raced forward, nearly crushing an elderly pedestrian in the process.
"How many points for the old bitch, eh, friend?" Rat elbowed the Walking Man and began laughing in a more maniacal tone.
As the Walking Man tried to settle down, Rat Davis began fiddling with a joystick and collection of buttons protruding from his center console. Trying to determine his intentions without asking questions, the Walking Man's eyes wandered about until they noticed the antenna.
A sixty foot whip antenna with a remote control equipped with a number of hooks and a brightly colored fishing lure at the end!
Rat Davis flicked his cigarette butt out the window, which he opened three inches for the briefest moment and then sealed closed once more. Then he lit another cigarette and continued laughing, running his hands through his greased hair before making love to his remote control with his right hand. He massaged it, pulling it gently to the left and right. Then he played with the control buttons like a maestro behind a piano from a shopping mall organ store.
"Watch this shit, this is going to be fucking funny, man."
Rat grabbed the joystick with authority and glee. His attention was so focused that the Mustang struck a college sophomore on a bicycle and sent him into oncoming traffic. He didn't care. Rat Davis was only interested in his remote control.
The sixty foot whip antenna caught the skirt of a renegade cheerleader who had just stolen lipstick and a box of cookies from the drugstore. Rat manuevered and lifted her skirt, which sent him into convulsive laughter.
"Nice fucking ass, eh, friend?"
The Walking Man kept staring forward, showing no emotion. This pleased Rat Davis, who was looking for his next fish on the ocean he called the street. He caught sight of a young boy and went back to work. The boy saw the sixty foot whip antenna coming towards him and tried to duck into an alley. Rat would have none of that. This was a challenge. Rat drove up onto the sidewalk and slammed into an unguarded makeshift fruitstand. He reeled back on his antenna and lauched it towards the boy in the alley.
"Time to pay the bill for my fender damage, little fucker!"
With the Mustang slowed almost to a stop on the sidewalk, the Walking Man opened the passenger side door and dropped himself onto the ground. He rolled away from the car and towards a storefront. Rat Davis and the Mustang were still trying to snare the boy in the alley. Not knowing if Rat would take it as an affront if he removed himself from the scene, the Walking Man stepped briskly around the corner to a side street. He pulled his overcoat up around his shoulders and wrapped the collar around his ears. He looked back briefly as he began walking towards the edge of town, but he never looked back again.
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