Flashback....
It was the dope and dual dish feed that did them in.
Snakey was slightly stoned, Smokey was very stoned, and the snakes squirming in the aquarium were extremely stoned due to the tube Snakey rigged up to blow them old serpents some sweet smelling smoke.
The snakes hissed in delight. Smokey purred. "Damn she's smoking hot..." then coughed badly sending spittle flying snakeward.
"Don't spit your rotting lungs on me you bastard." Snakey grabbed a Keystone light pounder he didn't know how long he could stand his fucked upped cousin but the heat was on in the Poconos and Cousin Smokey always had excellent smoke and a safe house.
"Look at them titties they need motor boarded..." Smokey coughed.
One screen had Nailin' Palin a rather well acted porn flick in Snakey's self proclaimed porn king opinion the other CNN with the lovely Governess of Alaska in the very fine flesh.
"Its motor boating you stupid stoned shit. What you finally bake your fucking brain...? Look at her...that fine little behind and she likes guns and fishing too?"
"Think she smokes?" Smokey was entranced by a rather randy turn of events on Nailin' Palin. "I mean dope not salmon or cigars or nothing like that..."
"Everyone up there gets stoned. Its fucking legal. Don't ya know nothing?"
Snakey was getting miserable it not even noon and the beer was about dead and his snakes were baked.
Slithering smiling. Dancing, singing, hissing, and pissing, hell they likely wouldn't even want to talk to him later. Snakey hated a group of happy stoned silent snakes.
Suddenly, as a secretary with immense fake breasts materialized on the screen, Snakey had a vision.
"Let's go to Alaska. Fuck this place. Pack your dope. Snatch up your shit. I'll by some beer and we roll. We roll light and we roll fucking fast. Don't think about, man just fucking do it."
Smokey looked at him stunned as smoke swirled around his red eyes.
"Dude sometimes your like General God damn Patton or something. Let's fucking roll...." Smokey actually jumped like a stoned going to flab middle aged massively mulleted bunny. Then he stopped. "Man we don't have wheels...that sucks."
Snakey lite a camel "Don't you worry. Just drop your cock and grab your socks boy lets go...Leave the logistics to the old Snake."
Smokey couldn't stop laughing as he gathered his gear and drank a beer. it was always a fucking adventure with his cousin. Now where did he put that pill vial?
"Its Operation Stinkovich...." Snakey crumbled his can and dropped it in the woods where old Mrs Zimmerman had dropped them from her buick with a wave and a have fun in the woods boys farewell.
It was Bob Sinkovich's deer camp. Bob was known as Stinkovich because of his love for Slavic food, especially high dosages, of cabbage, and the sulfur smell that Bob often emitted.
Still old Stinkovich always got skin. A certain honky tonk women always fell for the good old gaseous boy especially when he crowed Willie Nelson and lied about touring with Waylon and playing football at Ole Miss in the sixties.
"Ole Stink a Bitch is getting him some tonight" The boys would yell and bang the bar as Bob grabbed a big ass of a smashed bar babe and began licking her ear.
But more important to Smokey and Snakey was that Bob was away this weekend. Up state somewhere on another mad beer bender with some aging, chain smoking stripper sisters he meant at a race in the Poconos.
But Bob had left his camp truck behind. And Bob always hid his truck keys under the sun blistered camp yard gnome. The camp keys were always under the handmade "Bob, Bears, Bastards, and Beer Be Near" Camp Sign that announced "You Are Going Deep".
"Eureka..."Snakey grinned. "Let's check the beer supply."
Damn they were rolling fucking Bob had just stocked up on camp beer. They only took four cases and a bottle of Beam. Snakey almost squealed when he found snap traps with four dead but not quite decayed mice in them.
Carefully he gathered his catch and lovingly feed his still stoned snakes as they slowly slithered over each other in his travel aquarium.
"Daddy lovvvesss you. Seeeee."He said as Prince Bandar his new big black rattler snatched up two mice.
"Bandar don't be a damn bully..Share. Don't be a damn hog." He blew camel smoke at Prince Bandar and poured a bit of warm beer on him. "Damn you greedy Arab bastard I said stop..."
The snake snapped upwards eyes black, beer covered and angry.
"You no good fucking camel fucker..." Snakey said. "Jihad rattling snake bastard....I stop.."
Smokey staggered out laughing. "Man look what I fucking found....you ain't gonna believe it."
Snakey grinned turned the CD "Fucking perfect." He put his serpent tattooed paw on his cousins shoulder. "The Gods are with us..."
"Let me leave a note..." Snakey scrawled.
"Bob be back soon. Borrowed the truck and some beer. Thanks...Snakey. I'm good for it."
Snakey started the truck. Looked at the gas gauge.
"Can you believe the foul smelling fat fuck only has a quarter tank. Jesus. What if there be an emergency? What then? Poppa always said keep a full tank in the emergency withdrawal vehicle...always. damn, drunken lazy Bob...Got any money Smokey?"
"Not much. But I grabbed the change jars. But we got tuneage.."
"Put her in.." Snakey said with a grin. "Put the bitch in..."
Smokey fumbled with the CD. "Johnny fucking Horton. Perfect. What are the fucking odds? what are the odds?'
"I said this journey is blessed..."
They left the dirt road grinning, dust flying, and voices singing....
Way up north, (North To Alaska.)
Way up north, (North To Alaska.)
North to Alaska,
They're goin' North, the rush is on.
North to Alaska,
They're goin' North, the rush is on.
Big Sam left Seattle in the year of '92,
With George Pratt, his partner, and brother, Billy, too.
They crossed the Yukon River and found the bonanza gold.
Below that old white mountain just a little south-east of Nome.
Sam crossed the majestic mountains to the valleys far below.
He talked to his team of huskies as he mushed on through the snow.
With the northern lights a-running wild in the land of the midnight sun,
Yes, Sam McCord was a mighty man in the year of nineteen-one
