volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

hosed it all away, washed it down his spine and out his ass, to
leave him feeling refreshed and purified.
He loved Punk instantly.
He listened to it constantly.
And he began to search for a new dwelling place, a place far
away from his brother. And he learned to keep its location to
himself. Roy knew if his brother ever found out where he lived
he would come visiting and hit him and take his money.
Rick drank his money and when he ran out he drank Roy’s.
But—for the moment, at least—Roy’s money is safe.
It’s safe because it’s in a building Rick doesn’t know exists, in
the heart of Georgetown, where he never goes. It’s safe because
it’s in the very mattress Roy is tossing on right now, wide awake,
unable to sleep.
And the reason Roy is unable to sleep is he has a song running
through his head.
The scientific term for this is amygdala.
Over and over it runs. On and on. He tries to think of
another tune, of something that might trick his brain into
shutting up. But, unfortunately, in the world of Punk there’s
no such thing as a memorable tune—which is one reason it’s so
cool—and he knows if he resorts to Rock ’n’ Roll he’ll be assailed
by monstrous memories that will keep him even more awake,
then trail after him throughout the following day.
Or days.
Or weeks.
So he lies in his little room, drizzle sheeting his windowpanes,
tossing and turning, tormented by a song that keeps running
through his head—:
Pecos Bill was quite a cowboy down in Texas
He’s the Western Superman to say the least
He was the roughest, toughest critter
Never known to be a quitter
’Cause he had nothing to fear from man nor beast—
Was that right?
So yippee-i-ay-i-ya, yippee-i-o
He’s the toughest critter west of the Alamo!
ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY 1