THE CATONIC VERSES
As told by His Majesty Siegfried, King of Uberheim, November 28, 1998
This is truly a mundane tale, that I have told to Uberheim, when it was ten people at the most.
But people keep requesting it, over and over again.
It’s about an individual whom we used to know, by the name of Joe Catone.
Picture if you will, a lurker about six feet tall, thin,
wide pie-shaped blue eyes, and a hair cut like Moe.
With a twin brother, who looked just like him, by the name of
Anthony (pronounced Ant’ny), who happened to have a mustache.
Two very Space-Age individuals, who were, perhaps, thirty-three or
thirty-four at the time of this story.
Joe Catone used to drink. [holding aloft a bottle of Budweiser]
This is what he used to call the Grail.
He used to imbibe to a such a point, that he would drink himself back into the Stone Age.
After drinking about about a case of beer, if you showed him a VCR or a
video camera he would go into a convulsion.
He’d say "What is that? That’s fucking SPACE AGE!"
He’d be blinded by science, as the song goes.
In any case, the more he drank, the more prehistoric things got.
One time, he came over my house, and I had just gotten a new VCR.
He was thoroughly inebriated. I tried to show it to him,
tried to show him how to program it and all the little things that it did.
I tried to explain it to him, and his response was,
"Ah, you know Tommy, you know that’s Space Age!!
Get rid of that! Do you know how many double-double packs you coulda got for that??!?
Now, first of all, a six-gun is a six-pack of beer.
A double pack is a twelve-pack.
A double-double pack is two-times a twelve-pack, equaling thus, a case.
And this used to be the standard equipment for his lurkings.
In any case, Joe Catone and his brother Ant’ny came over my house one evening.
A Space Age character by the name of Hodge was also there, who is horrific to most,
and who has since been banished to Herbheim.
Anyway, he was parked out front with his car.
Joe and Ant’ny work all week landscaping, an entire 40-hour week,
all to run their lurk on a Friday.
They’d buy a Space Age amount of cocaine, in a mundane sense, actually crack.
They run the beers afterwards to bring them down from that.
So what happened was, that they were out of money.
It’s 12 o’clock midnight on a Friday night.
They’re sitting on the curb outside my house. Joe Catone and Ant’ny Catone.
Joe Catone is on a ten-speed bicycle. Ant’ny Catone pulls out his last $60.
They’re both jonesing out of their faces.
Their eyes are the size of pie plates, the veins bulging from
one side of the retina to the other.
They’re both out of their fucking minds in the street.
And Ant’ny’s like, "Ah JESUS, you know, I’d like ta have a wife an’ kids.
But I know that ain’t gonna happen. It ain’t gonna happen, aw Jesus!!
Ya gotta do me a favor Joe! I got sixty fuckin’ dollars here, Joe, sixty fuckin’ dollars.
All I need is another hit Joe!" So he pulls out his last sixty dollars,
and he hands it to his brother Joe,
who pedals off like a maniac on his ten-speed bicycle.
He’s grinding the gears and leaving fire if he could, on his ten-speed bicycle.
In the meantime, Ant’ny is jonesing. And jonesing.
And jonesing his fucking face off on the curb in front of my house
at about 12:30 at night. And he’s holding onto himself because he needs
to catch his next lurk. And he’s sent his brother Joe on a mission,
and he’s waiting. And an hour and a half passes by, and he’s rocking
for an hour and a half like this, screaming, "Aw JESUS, ah God!!"
My neighbors came out, they had all their lights on, they’re putting
spotlights on him and shit! He’s like, "AW JESUS! AW GOD!!!!" for
an hour and a half straight.
Finally, his brother Joe returns, grinding gears on his ten-speed bicycle
coming up the street.
And Hodge is still parked out front, go figure!
Now, they both get in the back seat of Hodge’s car.
And, Joe Catone has something that he says -he says- is $60 worth of cocaine.
To turn it into crack, what they need to do is pour water and baking
soda into a spoon, and cook it over a lighter, and it’s supposed to
turn into this rock-thing for them to smoke.
I don’t know, but this is what they’re running.
So in any case, they’re in the back seat of Hodge’s car.
Joe Catone hands Ant’ny Catone a little sack of something
which he thinks to be coke.
Figure this: He’s been gone an hour and a half.
And was only about a fifteen minutre bike-ride. So you figure out what happened.
So Ant’ny pours a little coke into the spoon.
And he pours a little baking soda into the spoon, and a little bit of water.
And he starts cooking. And he’s cooking, and he’s cooking.
Now normally, it only takes about 20 seconds, to a half a minute to
"come back", it’s when the water evaporates and it would
"come back", according to the Catones.
So he’s burning the spoon, and he’s burning it, and he’s burning it.
And his damn lighter’s going out and he’s burning it,
and his fingers are all getting fucking black and shit.
And his fucking fingers are starting to shake, because he knows something’s wrong.
"AW JESUS!!!!!!AH GOD!!!!!!!JOE YA DID IT, OH GOD!!! IT AIN’T COMIN’BACK!!! IT AIN’T COMING BACK!!!!!!"
So he figures out that it ain’t coming back, it’s not real, it’s flour that Joe Catone brought back!
So he was cooking a cake basically. Flour, baking soda, and water in a fucking spoon.
And he’s burning his fingers off, the fucking spring comes out of the lighter, hits the roof of the car, and his fucking finger’s on fire.
And he figures out, that it must be flour. He takes a taste.
He tastes nothing. "AW JESUS!!!!!"
He slams down the lighter and the spoon.
"Aw Jesus ya did it!!! Aw Joe!!!
SIXTY FUCKIN’ DOLLARS! AND I STILL AIN’T GOT NO FUCKIN’ PRODUCT!!!"
He hurls Joe across the seat. Joe Catone’s head spins around,
like the fucking exorcist.
360 degrees, in a fucking circle!
Joe starts to get out of the car, "Aw, ah-ah-ah-it’s all good,
I-I-I’m gonna go back there, they fucked me, I’m gonna go back."
And as he’s getting out of the car, he’s pulling the sack of
the real stuff out of his pocket, and sniffing it.
All of a sudden, his brother sees him: "Aw, ya got somethin’!"
He grabs him by the neck, and they start beating each other like fucking
Neaderthals in the road, using fucking windmill punches and drop kicks.
They looked like two fucking apes going at it!
They looked like two fucking Moe’s holding a WCW match.
They were drop kicking each other, strangling each other, absolutely fucking horrific.
In any case, they both fucking knocked each other out in the middle of the street.
We dragged them to the curb, and then we dragged them into the back yard,
and then we dragged them into lawn chairs.
We figured they could sleep there for the night. Wrong.
Joe woke up, he’s sniffing around where my brother’s place is at, and he smells spare-ribs cooking.
Sniffs it, says "Aw, what ya got there, whaddya call it- spare ribs?
I’ll have some!" Fucking opens the door and walks right in. "Spare ribs? Gimme some!"
And he’s the type of guest who won’t leave. He comes, and he will never fucking leave.
He’s like an intensified Beetlejuice.
I mean, he is something you wouldn’t even wish on your worst enemy.
He wouldn’t leave. Eventually he drank enough beer to kick down and pass out.
We dragged him back to the lawn chair.
We figure they’re going to sleep for the night, wake up some time in the morning,
and then they’re going to go home. Wrong!
About sunrise, Ant’ny finds it within his fucking mind,
to begin an assault on his brother with a piece of lawn furniture.
I hear crashes, and I look out my window, and I see Joe Catone moving
like a crab across my yard, with a piece of fucking lawn furniture
on his fucking forehead! I’m like, ‘Jesus Christ!
What the fuck are these people doing?’
And they’re fucking beating each other with lawn chairs in my backyard at fucking sunrise.
So they pass out again.
This time, we pull them in the car, drive them to their apartment,
pull them out, put them on the stoop, and left.
In any case, not three days later, Joe Catone was on a railroad track.
The railroad tracks going into Uberheim as a matter of fact.
He was swigging many space age grails.
The inbound 2:38am express came down the track.
West to East. He’s seen the train; he’d seen the lights in the distance.
He continued to drink. He dismissed the train as something Space Age.
"It’s Space Age, it don’t fucking exist!"
That’s the way they talked, no exaggeration.
In any case, the train came within a hundred feet, and he was pinwheeling around the track.
He refused to accept the presence of this space age machine.
Anything modern did not exist after about 24 beers.
He’d see a plane in the sky and think it was a pterodactyl!
He drank himself into another dimension.
In his final innvocation, at 2:38 in the morning, facing the express
doing about 70, he was seen to be doing a push-up on the track,
holding forth a beer into the face of the train, screaming,
"IT’S ALL FUCKIN’ SPACE AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGEEE!!"
A last act of defiance, he dismissed the train.
P.S. Body parts from Joe Catone were being picked up
for the next week and a half!
They say that the Bone of Catone still lurks by that tressle.
Dancwart chimes in here (to the tune of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer")
Joey got run over by a train car
That’s what he gets for drinking on the tracks
You can try to light up baking soda
But like Ant’ny said "Aw it ain’t coming back!"
Siegfried: And that concludes my story!
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