There are reasons we hang out with Justin. First, he rocks. Second… we only need the one.

SCENE 1: Light overflows from the streetlamps onto the patio outside Numbers. A small cluster of friends stands CS talking a few feet from the door into the club SR. Music sneaks out of the club in waves as people walk in and out.

We’re talking to Tiffany. You always talk to Tiffany, because, well… She’s hot. So I guess, you always look at Tiffany, but I always talk to her as well because she’s really sweet and you can see the person staring out from those eyes (an intelligence afraid of spiting her good looks).

But for most of you, you’d talk to Tiffany because she’s hot.

So we’re talking to Tiffany: club pleasantries. Work. The weather. Cock rings. Denise was there, so cock rings are unavoidable. Justin is there, too. Talking to Tiffany (see above). So is Kasey.

Tall, stocky male enters from club door SR. A cursory glance around the patio, and he spies Tiffany. Wanting to talk to her, he moseys over towards our little enclave.

TALL, STOCKY MALE: (interrupting current conversation) Hey… blahblah blah —

JUSTIN: Shut the fuck up. You talk too much.

The Sisters First and Last and Always is still one of the greatest albums I own. It’s been too long since I laid it out on the stereo and drowned away the day’s grunge.

So… Sunday. I had lunch with Zombie and Katy and their Pops. Leah was there, sitting at the family table, and Thad and Stacie went along and sat with me at the cast-offs table. Good food. Airport Haven.

Afterwards, Zombie, Leah, Katy and I went to see Amelie. I know I’ve already seen it, but it was still fantastic. I love that movie. Better than the Sisters.

After the movie I hung out with ‘Auli’i again. Saw Katy briefly while I was waiting outside Kinsolving. A small! maimed bat occupied us for a bit, and then we rented Dr. Strangelove and Naked Lunch.

Dr. Strangelove was cool, and all of a sudden I get a lot of inside jokes and references I pretended to laugh at previously. We watched Naked Lunch back at Kinsolving because lame-o friends had to go to sleep early. Adult bastards.

Monday, hung with Stacie very brielfy, but we were both headed about and busy. ‘Auli’i‘s ride was still a little AWOL, so I gave her a lift to San Antonio. We took 290 to 281, which was much more scenic than the typical I35 concrete luge.

Finally straggled to the apartment Monday night, had a couple of cloves, some wine and relaxed. What a weekend.

Tuesday of course was TNHON. Danielle and Brandon came. Brandon’s having issues with his printer. Sucky, but Plug’ll be out soon. Danielle was charming as always. Justin played us some Polka death metal that was actually very catchy. Renee was funny. Melissa! Melissa was there! With a TON of various flaovored alcohol! It was very cool seeing her again. We will miss her. Justin’s friend brought pizza. It was fun and good as it always is.

Wednesday was work and then hang-time with JUSTINE. We drove to Popeye’s in my car. She hadn’t ridden in it yet. We played Orange Blossom really loudly. It was cool. Ritual. I had the chance to talk to her about some things that have been weighing on me lately, things I just can’t talk to other people about. She just listened, and everything was okay.

Then, in what my be the greatest thing I have ever done, I went to the bookstore and bought the I Ching and Tao te ching. They’re awesome. I’ve decided to do a hexagram every morning, to give me something to kind of focus on, a theme for the day.

I slept seven hours, which is pretty good considering my tendencies and woke feeling refreshed. Today’s Hexagram focuses on family. I am energized, physically as well as spiritually.

As vespers closed and the horns called the mullets in, Zombie stumbled drunkenly down the rocky path. ‘Auli’i and I laughed. He weaved. He stumbled. He tried to talk. To our left to sentries from the tribe of Chaos emerged from a tent. One was a man and one was a woman. We weren’t sure which.

Taz was the King of the Mullet Men. I am sure of it. He had the biggest mullet. You should’ve seen the size of the mullet on that one. That’s a man’s mullet: big, puffy. It says “I am a mullet man!”.

Briefly I considered scalping him. What a trophy his mullet would’ve made draped on the floor in front of my hearth. It’s been too long since I lay on a soft mullet-skin rug.

Taz, no doubt attracted to the activity near Zombie’s car approached. “Well met. I am TAZ of Chaos. And who might you be.”

I expected to hear Katy yell “Arrrgh, matey”, but no doubt, her awe of his mullet silenced her as much as it had us. We were speechless.

The rustling in the bushes was ‘Auli’i returning from the hillside. Taz’s senses, razor sharp, encountered a female he had not previously accosted. “I hear a girl rustling there in the bushes.”

‘Auli’i, likewise entranced with the size of his mullet said nothing. “That’s our friend Bob. He’s coming back from taking a piss.”

In a deep voice: “Hey.”

Taz, slighted by the night and his mead was stunned. His mullet had never mis-guessed the gender of another being (The mullet men’s amazing talent at determining the genders of others has evolved over centuries to help mullet men and mullet women discern which among them is male and which is female. God knows, I encountered a multitudinous number of mullet peoples who I mistakenly assumed were men, when in fact they were women. I think. Imagine having to date in that pool. Are those boobs or moobs. Is that a penis, or a severe lack of personal hygiene.)

Taz, slighted by the night and his mead, was stunned. His mullet had never mis-guessed the gender of another being: “I’m sorry good sir. It is dark, and I have been drinking.”

In a deep voice: “S’okay.”

We left him there and stumbled down the uneven lane. Zombie was drunk. He couldn’t see. That’s normal. He would literally stumble into a tree he’d been eyeing warily for a good 10 feet, or he would walk right into a tree he hadn’t seen for a good 10 feet. At one point, bent on walking over to an alleged lake, he marched off the trail and walked over every bush, shrub, and small tree in his path. ‘Auli’i and I, sighted, and not drunk held in our laughter and walked around the underbrush.

Eventually, Zombie came to the barbed wire fence he’d been approaching for a long while. He stopped. Bent really close. “Is this a fence?” Yes. It was a fence. It had been a fence for the last five minutes worth of underbrush crossing. It would be a fence later. Yes. It was a fence. And you will probably not climb it, you drunk git. Thank you. We will laugh now. So we did. “Fuckers. Why didn’t you tell me there was a fence there? I almost ran into it.” Surveying the swath of destruction Zombie’s stumble had laid across the field, this was just too rich.

Zombie, drunk, belligerent, led us back to camp. The horns had long ago called the mullets home, so the roads were quiet. We made it back to the tent. Zombie immediately fell inside asleep. We wanted one last cigarette, so we sat outside.

Next: The Camp of the Mullet King, TAZ.

So… Saturday was wonderful (I’ll save The Camp of the Mullet King for later). I’ve never had fun at a faire. You kinda walk around, look at stuff. It’s like a mall, only people annoy you. More than they do in malls.

So, anyway, it’s real windy. I bump into Lee. Zombie fled to watch a minstrel, and I caught up a bit with Lee and his goings-on. Patently necessary, you will soon learn, young jedi.

By the time I find the crew (Zombie, Katy, ‘Auli’i, and Kasey) they’re half-way through a bottle of honey mead. I detest honey mead. Tastes like piss. Roy’s always trying to get me to have some. But eager to catch up, I try some.

It tastes wonderful. Sweet. Chilled. That’s right: chilled. Roy always serves it piss warm; thus the piss taste, but cold? Wonderful!

Then ‘Auli’i accomplishes many drunken antics for the next two hours. A complete detail would be impossible. Highlights include her spanking the centaur and trying to pull the sword from the stone. When brute force refused to work, she knelt down beside it and spoke sweetly, “I love you…” The sword had obviously had his heart misled by a woman before, and refused to budge.

We eventually left the faire and absconded to Austin. I napped a little bit, maybe. Roy, Renee, Zombie, Leah, and I ate dinner at Magnolia. It’s still as good as it ever was. Zombie and Leah stayed in. Roy and Renee went to Elysium with Thad and Stacy. I hung out with ‘Auli’i.

We ended up at Kerbey Lane on the drag. It’s newish. How I wish they’d had one like that when I was there. Talk about rock. The waitress was really nice and beautiful. Not necessarily physically, though she was attractive, but she was one of those people who exudes this tremendous amount of good energy that just warms you from every angle.

She comped us our chips n’ salsa, two teas, and a vegan cheesecake that was awesome. All in exchange for some cloves. We even tried to pay, but she wouldn’t let us.

I wandered in late again. I was almost getting used to it, though my body still rebels. But I did get to discuss red neck culture some more.

“I just got my woman her shots and dewormed.”

“Kewl. Now you can sodo-mize her again and urinate in her mouth.”

“And lick her testicle eye.”

Good times… good times.

We took first watch while Zombie collapsed, drunken and abused by shrubberies. The camp of the Mullet men had quieted, but we were wary, still.

It was late. Even the belligerently drunk red necks had tired of harassing their significant others for sex and collapsed in tents and trucks across the campground.

‘Auli’i was digging in her bag, feverishly.

“Looking for cigarettes?”

“No. I have those.” She holds them up as proof and hands me one before diving back into the bag. “Looking for my lighter. Here lighter… Where are you…”

I couldn’t see her face. It was black, silhouetted by moonlight dripping through the trees to the East. I wondered if she could see mine.

Mild laughter drifted over from a campground not too far away. They had tiki torches, and I could see the dappled orange glow of a fire.

“We can get fire over there,” I suggested. She continued digging. “Want me to go get a light?”

“Well…”

“Come on. We can get a light over there.”

Now, the camp of the Mullet men could never be described in the mere mortal words of man, its awesome majesty too majestic, urging even the Angels of the Lord to avert their eyes in reverence. Perched ‘round the central fire, a flock of tents, the finest nylons and polyesters from far away kingdoms such as OshLands and as captured from their Acadenemies. And they had tiki torches, cast like pillars to hold back the dome of the sky. And they had logs.

By its grandeur, I knew this camp could only belong to Taz, King of the Mullet Men. I was drawn to his magnificence as a smoker is drawn to a flame.

I led, quietly, being careful not to wake his sentries, cleverly disguised as drunken, East county, fat hogs of men, asleep in dome tents.

“Who goes there,” bellowed Taz.

I stepped forward. “Good evening. Just wanted to steal your fire.” Three mullet peoples squatted on logs around a fiercesome Taz, lounging in a lawnchair.

“Do you know where you are? What camp this is?”

“Uh… Of course I do.”

“Who’s camp are you in?”

“This is the greatest camp there is. Only a fool would not know what camp this was.”

“You. Are in. CHAOS.” He paused to let his words rumble and echo. Absent any appreciable echo he continued. “I am Taz.” Pause. “Our camp is bound by these lines you see here.” At this he turned his attention to a rapier stuck in the ground before the fire, trying to wrest it free. “Dammit. Uh. There.” Gesturing wildly towards the lines encircling the camp. “This is our domain. We are all powerful inside these ropes!”

“Well… you’d think chaos wouldn’t be bound by anything.”

“No one dares enter the camp of CHAOS!” Pause. “They’d quickly find themselves surrounded. Our weapons’d be out. They’d be in a bad place.” Gesture, gesture. Occasionally his mullet subjects would lean away from the gesturing.

“This is my sword. Don’t let it worry you. It’s only out for cooking. Otherwise you’d never see it out. Well, cooking, and of course to fight.

“You don’t want to see me with my sword out,” he gestured wildly.

“And there was last week, we were going to a hand-fasting. There you saw this Horde of Chaos marching along, all of our weapons out.

“They thought we were going to kill someone.”

At about this point ‘Auli’i came into view, also having made it past the cleverly disguised Sentries of Chaos. “What woman goes there! Come forward.”

(Taz’s amazing strengths in gender perception have been discussed previously. c.f. Ch.1 Mayhem of the Mangy Mullets).

You could see her pondering on whether to use her deep voice. “Hey.” She kind of stood there.

“Come forward.” Two steps closer. “Come forward.” A couple more. “More. Come here. Let me look at you.” A step forward. “Come closer.”

At last, the wily Taz had lured her within his reach. I watched with trepidation. He’d surely notice she had no mullet. The game was up. The kill was his. She would be cut in two with his next gesture. They would dine on freak stew. I had led us to an agonizing mullet doom.

“Hmph.” He looked her up and down. “You are acceptable.” Eyeing me with a drunken squint and one good eye. “I’ll have to steal her from you.”

One of the mullets spoke. “You can’t do that, Taz.” From the soft, round face I could detect the feminine, or a mullet man on muscle relaxers.

“Eh… Well, that’s alright. I’ve got one back in my tent.”

I lit my cigarette on a tiki torch. “We’ve got to get going.” ‘Auli’i lit her cigarette. “We’ll probably see you tomorrow at the Faire.”

We scuttled into the welcoming darkness…