Welcome to Thunderdome, Bitch

I remember this asshole, Lancer
they called him. He hung out in the evil
underground poolhall of our youth which
was hideous and filled with sad beauty,
like a half grotesque half god-like conjoined

mess, and he always wore these faded 80s
hair bad shirts, and he had a mullet and he
had the worst sense of humor which you
couldn’t ignore because he was so fascinated

with the sound of his own voice, so sure
he was conning us just because we were in our
early 20s and he looked fifty-shitty or so.

But he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all me.
I knew his swagger from 80s movies. He was the
douche guy in every bad horror, he always screws
the main protagonist over. He was the guy with the

metal plate in his head from Texas Chainsaw 2
Paul Reiser in Aliens. McConaughey in Dazed and Confused.

When he finally did rip us off It was a measly gram
so it was not worth hunting him down over. We just
forgot about him. Until now. I can Still see his white

trash face looking at me, as though he Knew he was
nothing. Except for that moment, when you needed
and he knew a guy who knew someone who had.

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