One of our crew may be going to the big house for a little while. We are a badass #NorthWesternOntario paint-flingin', sawdust-spewing, papier-mache sodden #ArtCrew . We so bad that American Fishermen steal our sculptures and make sweet, sordid BronzeBack love to them... and bad touch... and abandon them to the tender mercies of predawn #FortFrances .
Rain is too humid for paper.
Glass loves rain, however. Glass in your windows, glass in your car, glass in your hand.
We are so badass; we have puppets that fly to Mars and reenact "1984". But not at the same time. Yet. Our puppet budget and technology is slightly above "pathetic and weak". Quality control is exercised by smelling the puppets. We have people for that.
Wayne And Shuster : Swan Lake Murders
This is the sketch comedy that I grew up with, in Red Lake, Ontario. One of Frank Shuster's family members created Superman. Johnny Wayne was my only hero, for a while; in the time of a boy.
A Sudden Noise. Close.
There was a quickly amplifying sound of car engine? brakes? then two "crumps", the unmistakeable bass and screech of quickly-folding metal.
"Holy shit!", so says we all.
Out the door, already punching 911. Z. and others fly, converge.
I speak to the operator, listen to an eyewitness and offer directives to the emergent heroes, slithering in and out the pickup window. Doesn't look like she stole anything, but I can't be sure.
"Do NOT move him."
"Turn off the engines."
"How many vehicles?" she said.
"Multi-vehicle. At least three."
"Where's the driver of that car?"
Dead, dead. Fucking dead.
In a tree, or somebody's flowerbox...
NOT in the car.
Shit. Not parts... please not parts.
"Do NOT move that guy!"
Just one driver? Two parked cars? No bystanders?
I heard that he was all over the road, prior to the crash.
Bad throttle cable? Stroke? Marinated? Forget where the brake was?
Folks from the UNFC were amongst the first on scene, rendering assistance. The driver plowed into two cars parked in front of the building.