Much doo-doo about nothing.
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WHERE ON GRANFATHER THE CHIP HAPPENED: The chip was slightley below the waist. Please dont make me get speciffic.
Stu spread out the road map, its crinkley paper noise breaking the hushed still of isolattion. Squinting his small piggish eyes, he sighed.
"Guys, we're screwed. Fortey miles to the nearest town."
Now I started to cry too, joining Junior as the other most immatture person in the group. Madison rolled his eyes.
"A car WILL come along. Ill bet we dont wait an hour," said Madison. But this just made Junior cry more.
Madison told us to sit tight and not drink all the wator at once. We decided to covor Granfather with a blanket. Yes, even in broad daylight, that statue of him standing there in an attack stance was terriffying. Almost as scary as the old basterd when he was still alive and the last thing we wanted was the Fedorales, which is the Mexican cops showing up and mistaking him for the legendary Chupacabra monster and opening fire on the old sonoffobich.
"Boys," he began slowly, "I'f we ain't found by them Mexican state troopers, I want to give my life to save y'all: I wants y'all to eat me.
"My life never ammounted to much. Plus, it's always been mah dream to be featured in the 'Reader's Digest Drama in Real Life,' even if I done gots to get et, to do it.'
Junior paused. His whole face pinched up and his droopey lower lip began to quiver, and in heaving gasps he loudly sobbed, "Yup, go on an roast me. Thar's salt and pepper packs in the glove box, and..."
Madison interupted, "That wont be necesary, Junior," but there was no consoaling him. Unsnapping his overalls, Junior dropped the bib and pulled up his shirt and with both hands grasped and shook a giant white hairy spare tire of belly blubbor that ringed his stomoch.
"All mah life I struggoled with mah weight. But now I see it's God's will to save y'all," he bawled. "Jest honor mah one request: leave mah nipples be. I cain't bear the idear of one of y'all chewin' on 'em..."
And then sudenly a head of dust stirred on the horizon, as down the road a car came, just as Madison said one would. I ran to get the jumpor cables and stood right in the road to flag it down.
A Dogde pickup truck slowed as the driver took a look at us. I waved the jumpor cables and pointed, then moved out of the way so he coud get his battery close to ours. Thank God, the truck stopped.
A sort of small, shy man in a cowboy hat got out, probly a rancher and he gave us an odd look. I am sure we looked strange; Junior with his shirt off and pale belly in the hot sun, Madison, allways in his white lab coat lookin like a mad scientist (which he sort of is); me with grease and blood on my head from slamming into the valve covor when the van lurched backwards, and Stu, who looks exactley like a pig...Where was Stu? ...Dammit, we needed Stu, cause he was the only one of us who spoke Spanish good.
"And for Godsake dont let that blanket fall off Grandpa," Madison added.
The rancher understood we needed a jump. He popped his hood and conected the cables to his truck's battory.