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Blood, Guns and Whores -- Chapter 30. The Giant Black Metal Coffin

Blood, Guns and Whores -- Chapter 30. The Giant Black Metal Coffin

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Published by W. Ross Ayers
Chapter 30 --- “Blood, Guns and Whores – An All American Tale of a Boy and His Dog“, is a coffee table novel TM made of micro chapters and illustrations about a boy growing up in the small farming community of Blissfield, Michigan and on to adulthood in San Francisco.

W. Ross Ayers

Goto www.BloodGunsAndWhores.com to read all the posted chapters, check out how this is cool and different. Or just buy the book to get the full rich experience of the illustrations, artwork, and story in the way it was meant to be experienced.
Chapter 30 --- “Blood, Guns and Whores – An All American Tale of a Boy and His Dog“, is a coffee table novel TM made of micro chapters and illustrations about a boy growing up in the small farming community of Blissfield, Michigan and on to adulthood in San Francisco.

W. Ross Ayers

Goto www.BloodGunsAndWhores.com to read all the posted chapters, check out how this is cool and different. Or just buy the book to get the full rich experience of the illustrations, artwork, and story in the way it was meant to be experienced.

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Published by: W. Ross Ayers on Jun 30, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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05/19/2012

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Blood,
 
Gunsand Whores
 
~
An All American Tale
 
of a Boy and His Dog 
Writtenand Illustrated by W.Ross Ayers
 An SFWC Co-Publishing Studio Production © 2011 by LND, inc. All rights reserved 
 
, is a coffee table novel
TM
madeof micro chapters and illustrations about a boy growing up in the small farming community of Blissfield, Michigan and on to adulthood in San Francisco.W. Ross Ayers
Goto http://www.BloodGunsAndWhores.com to read all the posted chapters, check out how this is cool and different. Or just buy the book to get the full rich experience of the illustrations, artwork, and story in the way it was meant to beexperienced.
 
30. The Giant Black Metal Coffin
We had to work on Christmas Eve. We started at 3am so we could be done at 11am and go home. We coulddecide our shifts because it was just four of us. There were workers on the floor of the factory twenty-fourhours a day in three shifts.The midnight shift was the weird wild group. These guys were part drug addict, part zombie, part homelessdude sleeping on the sidewalk. I liked them the best. They talked to me during breaks and always had somereally messed up story to tell about strange shit like the summer they lived in the state park sleeping in theirtent or something as equally weird.Christmas Eve morning we had our first break at 5:30am. The head tool and die guy went downstairs tosmoke a cigarette. The assistant stood up and waved for me and the other apprentice to follow him into theother side of the workshop where we painted and sprayed coatings onto the molds we made.He flipped on the huge, loud ceiling fan and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a wooden block the size of a pack of cigarettes. He twisted the top and it swung to one side. A brass tube popped up. He pulled the brasstube out. It was the length and width of a cigarette and hollow all the way through. He then tapped the tubeback into the wooden block where I noticed a cavity had been drilled.
“Have you used one of these before?”
 
“No.”
 
“It’s a one hitter.”
 
I nodded.The other apprentice smiled with crooked teeth underneath his brown beard.
“When you light it, look at the reflection of the tip in the top part of the
 
lighter so you know it’s lit. Don’tbreathe in too hard. It’s fucking hot. When you exhale, blow into the fan so we don’t get busted.”
 Our lunch break was at 8am.
 
 The assistant and the other apprentice said we would be going out for lunch.
“I brought my lunch.”
 
“Bring it with you dumbass. We’re going out for a road party.”
 
When I got to to parking lot the other apprentice was sitting behind the wheel of his four-door 1961 BlackLincoln Continental. It made me think of a giant black metal coffin.The assistant and another guy sat beside him in the front on the large bench seat. Gray exhaust rolled out of the tailpipe into the freezing cold air. My fingers were already starting to hurt from the cold. The back seatwas filled with four other guys that had just gotten off the midnight shift.
“Get in schmuck and let’s go.”
 
I jumped in the back seat with the four dudes and closed the door.We passed a roach, a small flat bottle of peppermint schnapps, and a fat round bottle of Black Velvet aroundin a circle.Puff,Swig,Swig.Then back around.Puff,Swig,Swig.
AC/DC’s “Back in Black” played on the 8
-track.
The guys sang along to the music, “
Back in the back of a Cadillac
.”
 The car filled with thick blue smoke and music.For an hour we floated in the giant black metal coffin, drinking and getting high.I grinned taking my turns.It felt great to be included.

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