My Pal Joey

My Pal Joey

A Friend indeed.

With trembling hands, I knew what I had to do. I reached out and rammed my fingers deep into the decaying soft underbelly of the dead beast. Pulling out slimy intestines, I rolled them in-between my fingers and then proceeded to rub the vile concoction all over my body. I am lucky to have found him, I thought as I proceeded to vomit on myself. Those prison hounds will have a hell of a time distinguishing my scent from that of this rotting sow's.

Just as I had planned it, I thought, as I scrambled into the jungle in the dead of night, but I hadn’t expected this bonus. I had traveled less than 50 yards into the quagmire when I discovered a dead wild pig. The prison guards must have shot him for sport and left him here to putrefy. The smell of his rotting flesh forced up my nostrils. Gagging for a usable clean breath, I slowly gained my composure and crawled closer to the carcass. I cringed at wriggling maggots each devouring their portion of the savory departed.

I could hear the hound's deep mournful howls as they assemble back at the prison yard. It’s too bad about my pal Joey, getting bumped by that dumb, creepy, one-eyed guard, Johnson. That Screw has always been hell-bent on killing somebody. One blast from his shotgun and Joey’s head burst like a Mexican Piñata. I shudder to think that soft gooey mush splattered all over the cold concrete prison wall could have been my head. “Thanks for jumping ahead and saving me, Joey. You were always looking out for me, although you did become quite a nuisance after a while.

What you didn’t know was that I was going to give you your walking papers anyway, once we broke out. I never did like a weak tag-along like you feeding on my strength and brains. I guess I don’t have to worry now. I only let you in on the prison break because you kept filling my mind with all of those survival skills you learned in the Marines. Evidently, it was not enough to save you from guard Johnson’s shotgun. Ha, ha.

Come to think about it, now how in the hell am I going to make it out of this damn jungle without you? I’ve got to get going; I hear those hounds getting closer. Wait a minute. You did say to follow the risen moon to Spivey’s corner and there would be a getaway car waiting. Okay, Joey, there’s the moon and here I go.

These damn mosquitoes are driving me crazy. If I had it to do over again, I would give it all up for that uncomfortable cold prison cot. But if I give up now, they will shoot me down just for sport, just like they did that dead pig.

Joey, I’ve been running for hours, my body is torn and cut by those savage barbed thorns and leaves. My throat is dry and raw, and my lungs want to rip from my chest. Joey, where are you? I know now that you’ve never needed me. It was I that needed you to make myself feel superior.” What the hell! What is this soft mush I just stepped into? I’m down to my waist. Oh my God, it must be quicksand! “Help! Help! Somebody! I don’t want to die!”

Hello, who is that? I can feel a strong hand reaching through the slick black muck. “Oh! Thank you, sir, one more pull please, I’m almost out. One more pull and I’ll be free. Are you part of the prison posse looking for me? Well, if you are, don’t worry, I give up. I have learned my lesson, and I’m ready to go back to jail.”

“No jail, Big Frank, It’s me, your pal Joey. I know my face looks kind of funny. But that’s on account of the buckshot that I took for you. from the jailer Johnson.

I heard you calling for help, so I led you through the jungle to the quicksand pit. Now you are dead too—just like me. And guess what, Big Frank? We can be partners again, just like the old days in prison. The only difference is now, I’ll be the boss. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.”

Ta ta, Lad