Chapter 13

The Sioux Ghost Shirt Religious Movement of 1890 and the Three Wolf T Shirt Society Religious Movement of 2010.

Like most sudden feverish religious manias the start of the Three Wolf Society Movement of 2010 is lost in myth and demagoguery.

The stunning changes wrought in American Society by the Three Wolf Society from 2010 to 2033 have been studied by scholars for decades.

Like the Sioux Ghost Dance the religious Three Wolf movement began in the depressed minds of an alienated segment of a society being swept by massive changes. A way of life was disappearing, strange people they neither liked nor understood strode across what was once their land, it was change they did not like...suddenly they were strangers in a suddenly strange land and they longed for the old ways...the old days...and it all began on the road to Walmart.....

I was cutting the rug
Down at a place called the jug
With a girl named Linda Lu
When in walked a man
With a gun in his hand
And he was looking for you know who.
He said, hey there fellow,
With the hair colored yellow,
Watcha tryin to prove?
cause thats my woman there
And Im a man who cares
And this might be all for you.


Smokey loved that part, the hey fat fellow with the hair colored yellow part, he always imagined himself shouting that out to some fat jackass with pretty hair trying to move in on his lady thing down at the Last Resort, so now as he sang it god damn loud and proud in his old camouflaged truck as he roared to Wal mart on a Saturday morning he felt fucking good.

Skynyrd in the morning fucking good...no fucking awesome.

Skynyrd in the morning still drunk from the night... even better.

"Yipppie ha ha mudda fuckers!" He yelled out his open truck window, flicking a sparking stub of a Salem smoke out, but no one could hear him much over the rumble of his ancient almost muffler less, terribly rusted truck.

"Yipppie ha ha mudda fuckers!"He had saw that in a movie this morning. The one he liked with the bald guy fighting them Nazi fucks in a California hotel near Christmas or something.

Up all night drinking and smoking some mighty fine weed Smokey felt right fine. He had slept a little but he was still a cob web headed son of a bitch.

Matter of fact the cobweb in his head felt like one spun by that mean mother fucker of an ass kicking spider in that elf and goblin movie.

Even after a quick BC bud wake and bake. Fucking degenerate brain spider bitch sure liked the weed yes she did.

He tried to slay that fucking bad ass spider web spinning whore with a powerful perocet this morning but the evil spider bitch just gobbled it down and smiled sweetly at him and spun some more wicked whiskey and weed head webs.

Fuck the head webs... and damn he liked his Skynyrd.

Why didn't them old boys ever make an action movie with a spider? Smokey thought laughing out loud so hard it started a deep racking lung cough.

Hell he sure was hungry he couldn't wait for his egg McMuffins and a big McSteak breakie bomb. That clean all his toxins right out. Always did...every Saturday and Sunday.

Hell sometimes he stayed on that McDeath bathroom toxic toilet for an hour after eating.

Only one more mile to paradise Smokey took a deep drink from his hair of the hound morning keystone light pounder and fired up another smoke. Simple Man, was two songs up, maybe he jumped up to it...skip that fucking Freebird bullshit.

Leaning for his radio his cigarette ash broke off onto his favorite wolf shirt. The three wolf howling at the moon shirt...his fucking soul shirt, his party shirt, his get in the pants of a lucky lady fucking shirt.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."He said smacking the ashes and spilling the Keystone beer on his balls. Well his ball because he was wearing his Saturday morning go to the Walmart torn jeans.

The ones torn at the crotch just so that one of his big balls would show if he leaned just right and the lady behind him in line looked just right..

"Goddamn..." The beer was cold on his balls. And his favorite wolf, the one howling loud and proud, looked like it had a burn hole in it. "Fuck..."

Then he saw the snake. It's big black head slithering up from under his seat. Cold, pissed off, fucking hungry, and its head was almost between his legs.

Almost at his fucking dick for Christ sakes. Hell he hoped it was a hallucination but it wasn't.

No he knew the snake and the fucking snake knew him.

He could tell by the look in its black glittering evil eyes he hated him..even though he sometimes feed him captured or bought rodents.

It was Loki Longsnake, one of his cousin Snakey's favorite and largest pets, and it loved Smokey's truck because field mice loved to nest in the glove compartment, in the trash filled truck bed, and under the seats where he dropped his subway scraps.

It was a big mean, forearmed sized, black bastard of a water snake black snake mean snake mix and it was perched between his balls.

And it look really pissed off. Eight feet of pissed off black snake mix.

Fuck...Smokey thought.

"Now Loki..." Smokey said as the truck swerved and a horn blared. "Now Loki be nice now...We can go, we can go..to the pet shop and we can...."

The snake stared in Smokey's eyes. Smokey tried to send a message of mutual understanding. peace and love. Like he did with cranky strippers who thought him to drunk and grabby...

The reptiles long tongue twitched out reaching.. the snake seem to smile.

An ash slowly dropped from his cigarette, Smokey watched it slowly tumble smoking, he shouted noooo, it took forever, the red ash, dancing down sparking settling, simmering on the snakes big black head.


And be a simple kind of man.
Be something you love and understand.

The snake snapped snatching, biting onto his ball. Fangs latching muscular mean body twisting..turning...rolling.

Smokey screamed.

The truck rolled, over and over and over, into the the big grassy, trash filled ditch beside the walmart.

People ran, drove, motor carted, stumbled, weaved, waddled, and walked from the Wal mart to the smoking ruins of Smokey's truck.

Sirens wailed.

"Hain't no one coming out of that..." One short fat fellow said with a glitter in his eyes as he rushed over. "Come on Momma..lets look"

One lady with wild eyes and wilder white hair began praying. A group formed and they knelt and prayed holding hands.

A few dozen folks babbled into cell phones or snapped action shots of the simmering truck.

Camera phones rolled.

"Get closer..."

"Is he dead...?"

"I got me a movie camera..let me through!"

"He's back there...in the grass."

"He gots to be dead...It rolled on him didn't it?"

"I never seen nothing like it..."

"Let me in with my camera..."

"Is he dead?"

"Jesus H Christ..." A big man gray bearded man with tattoos on his forearms shouted as he approached Smokey. "He's got a goddamn black snake on his balls."

Smokey moaned. His legs hurt. His head hurt. His ribs made it hard to breath, but it was his balls he was worried about.

"Don't move son...don't move." The bearded man looked at him stunned. "How the hell did that snake get on your balls boy? You weren't....doing weird things with it were ye boy?"

Not another morning snake fucker, the old timer, thought fumbling for his flask. Not this early...not driving in his truck seeking snake head. The world has gone weird.

"The Lord is with you son...the lord is here." The Wild haired lady grabbed at Smokey's hands.

Smokey groaned. Cameras clicked. Sirens sang. Skynyrd sang. Smokey wiped blood from his eyes and reached for his boot.

"Satan..." Smokey said and cut off Loki Longsnakes head with a swipe of his boot knife. "Cocksucker..."

As he passed out he worried about his wolf shirt. His shirt, and the rusted door of his truck, had saved him.

And he knew his cousin would be furious if he found out he killed Loki Longsnake.

"Saved by shirt....Satan.." He whispered to the wild women and then everything went black.

"Yess...Yess..." The women wailed. "Look at the shirt." A wolf was smeared with a hand-print of blood.

"Look the wolf has the mark of the Lord. Look the wolf has the mark of the Lord...The Lord Wolf saved him, showed him the way."

Cell Cameras clicked and rolled.

She grabbed the headless serpent and held its still writhing body aloft.. the ambulance men worked on Smokey strapping him down.

Cell Cameras snapped and rolled.

The wild haired women grinned.

"Satan came for this boy and he slew the dark beast...and the Lord left his mark on this man's wolf, on this man's minds, the Lord left his mark on us. The man named the beast and the man wears the mark of the Lord on his wolf shirt...This man will lead us...This man has been sent to show us the way and slay sin, slay Satan and to salvage our savage souls.."

"Save us!'

The cops held a crush of the curious back as Smokey was loaded onto the ambulance. People shouted, pushed, snapped pictures, rolled film.

Smokey raised a hand, flashed a thumbs up. The crowd cheered. Someone shouted about buying one of them damn Wolf shirts. Another voice said hell ya why not three?

Smokey grabbed an EMT he had gone to high school with whispered..

"Save my Wolf shirt..." Pulled him close. Bad breath close.

"And my weed its in the truck bed lock box..."