Tall tales from crazy days of yore at Ye Olde Wag Shoppe. They're all true seven years after they happened.
Hit The Road
 The Door
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 Acknowledgements
 Wag Shoppe Central
Murphy's Fire
Timeful Poetry
 Prison Theme
 Invert Theme
 Love Theme
 Short Stories
 Crucial Phi
 Prose
Tall Tales
 Visual Art
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 Tight Drinks
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 Tight Music
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Tall Tales
Valentine's Blessing
It was February 13th, 1998. Rone was staying with Murphy and his family after an episode of his own. Murphy's family situation was, however, rocky as well. His family wanted them to leave.
So they did. Murphy and Rone packed up all their shit into Rone's ride and headed to a friend's house that they partied at a lot. They spent the night at their friend's house and were quite discouraged with their present parasitic housing. In response to their dismay with the situation, as is customary now at the Wag Shoppe, they got really trashed. Murphy and Rone got stoned with their friend, Waterbaby, his mom, and sister, Little Stoner.
They were all having a merry time hotboxing in the basement, when the phone rang and scared the shit out of everybody. Waterbaby's mom answered the phone trying not to laugh. It was for Murphy or Rone. It was a leaser. He wanted to know if they wanted the apartment that they had inquired about.
Rone and Murphy both yelled yes, quite by accident, and they were to move in the next day. On Valentines Day evening, the Wag Shoppe was born.
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Walt Antichrist
Another summer evening on eighth and middle. The beginnings of the evening have become permanently blurred by time and the marring effects of alcohol on the memory. Loti, Rudy, and Murphy were inside the Wag Shoppe mixing drinks and chatting. Murphy glanced over the rim of his snifter and out the front window, whose shade was drawn for a change. On the porch stood a crowd of wags, mischas, and friends sipping away on half full glasses, cavorting and hollering. Murphy lowered the shade to its customary position, gathered up his coordination, and made for the crowd behind the front screen door. There was strange talk in the air about Mary Poppins and Burger King as Murphy, followed by Loti and Rudy, emerged from the Wag Shoppe. Then, a blood curdling scream, quickly followed by manic laughter, descended from the roof above the porch. Perched on the eave of the water-damaged tarpaper roof was Rone in all his drunken glory. His eyes were bulged in wrapped alcohol amazement, and his mouth was bent with a queer grin of cheap thrill. In one hand he held a multi-colored beach umbrella. In the other, a burger king bag. He started laughing again, and began yelling in a slurred british accent that he was Mary Poppins. Amidst the refrain of "A Spoon Full of Sugar", pickles and burger parts came flying off the roof. Rone was apparently giving the crowd below their medicine.
After he ran out of burgers, the crowd started chanting Rone's name. He got worked up, backed up, started forward, stopped, backed up again with a nervous chortle, and jumped off the roof yelling like a madman grappling with the tentatively floating beach umbrella.
Disney is the antichrist.
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Red Heads and Headlights
It was an autumn Saturday night early on in our saga, before Murphy and Rone graduated. The Shoppe was in the near future, but not quite here, yet. Wampus and Murphy were drinking at a friend's duplex on the east side of town. The company for the evening was Wampus, Murphy, BobOnTheCob, and a redheaded cheerleader. The apartment was the redhead's, the beer was Wampus', the Crown Royal was Murphy's, but the luck in the proceeding story was unclaimed. The duo of this story, Wampus and Murphy, had shotgunned through a few beers and what was left in the whiskey bottle from the night before. It was time for a walk. The midnight air was crisp, light, and fresh. Moonlight rimmed obsidian black clouds crept across the star studded sky. The graveyard gray lied less than a block away and waited. It knew they would be roving about tonight. The two clamored over the link fence with a full beer in every pocket, and landed in two sprawled piles inside the southern yard. Stifled, scrambled laughter echoed amongst the headstones as the two friends retrieved their limbs and whereabouts. The tree of power was calling and so were their bladders. Wampus found a palapable bush and Murphy pissed right off of the path where he stood.
After relieving themselves, the two friends settled on the ground in an oak recluse level to the headstones. The dark settled in around them and fell into their eyes. The shadows seduced their sunken souls with sweet whispered words of feather winds and silken cold caresses. Blue clouds of a black sky float across their drowsy drunken gazes and wrap around their minds, embracing their velvet fancies of a promise by the dark.
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WAGS AND MISCHAS!!!
WRITE YOUR MEMORIES DOWN BEFORE THEY FADE!!!
SEND THEM THROUGH EMAIL FOR PUBLICATION!!!
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~Send Salutations~
© all rights reserved
Joshua Schenck 1998
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