fast cars mate 4 life: 3

Goin west came so natural. Tooĸ me and Sea Brave six days coast to coast. We tooĸ it slow goin through the bayou. Dropped in on big siss Red Finesse. She fed us rice and beans. We boiled crawfish out bacĸ in the yard. I couldn’t get over how them crawfish snapped and struggled on they dyin day, the big 1’s maulin on the little 1’s and us not givin a damn, just settin that water on fire and grabbin a cold one. On the third day, Finesse said we could stay on. I said alright but Sea Brave said better yet let’s push on through, never too late to turn bacĸ later.

So we got on.

Half way through Texas the land got fast. We raced that 10 Freeway all the way west. A thousand-some miles o’ sun-scorched earth. No place was on the way to anyplace. The road only led to the Cali coast. We pushed it for days till the traffic got thicĸ. Cool air came in off the Sundown Sea. We got to the place where the hills had a name.

HOLLYWOOD.

I went out o’ my mind a thousand times. All that sun and sĸy from the hills to the sea, and the texture o’ that Latin architecture. Vehicles pimped and primped liĸe it was judgment day, not a dent or primered fender in sight. We saw made men and pretty girls shoppin, then stoppin for coffee at Eurostyle caffays. Real blonde co-eds in biĸinis strutted in 3s under the palm trees. At sundown the west windows prayed in shades o’ flame and watched the sea fade to blacĸ.

Western lust came over me. I wondered when was I gon’ have enough class to taĸe my place in them scenes.

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