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leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep your vo

ices d

own I'm sneaking out hey! what's the big idea? keep your

shoot that dog if you can't a

fford to feed famine fathered a moth shoot that dog if you provisional arro

gant little

we've drained full confession booths polluted drinking wells with our

that rat has got it's

mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.

that r

at h

as g

ot it's

mot

her's

eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep your voices down I'm sneaking out hey! w

hat's

the b

ig idea? keep your

shoo

t that

dog i

f you can't afford to feed famine fathered a moth shoot th

at dog if you

provisional arrogant little

we've drained full confession booths polluted drinkin

g wells with our

that rat has got it's mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.that rat has got it's mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep your voices down I'm sneaking out hey! what's the big idea? keep your

shoot that dog if you can't afford to feed famine fathered a moth shoot that dog if you

provisional arrogant little

we've drained full confession booths polluted drinking wells with our

that rat has got it's mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.that ra

t has got it'

s mother's

eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep

your

voice

s down I'm sneaking out hey! what's the big idea? keep your

shoot that dog if you ca

n't aff

ord to

feed

famine

fathe

red a moth shoot that dog if you

provis

ional

arrog

ant lit

tle

we've drained full confession booths polluted drinking wells with our that ra

t has got it'

s mother's

eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.

that

rat h

as g

ot it

's m

othe

r's eyes. b

reeding ad nauseam that rat has

insidethe mind

ofkeith

buckley

leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep your vo

ices d

own I'm sneaking out hey! what's the big idea? keep your shoot that dog if you ca

n't afford to feed famine fathered a moth shoot that dog if you

we've drained full confession booths polluted drinking wells with our

that rat has got it's

mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.

that r

at ha

s got

it's m

othe

r's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that ra

t has

leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep your voices down I'm sneaking out hey! what's the big idea? keep your

shoot that dog if you can't afford to feed famine fathered a moth shoot that dog if you

we've drained full confession booths polluted drinking wells with our

that rat has got it's mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.

leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep your voices down I'm sneaking out hey! wh

at's the big idea? keep your shoot that dog if you can't afford to feed famine fathered a moth shoot that dog if you

provisional arrogant little

that rat has got it's mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.

that rat has got it's mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

leave your drunken accident at the prom it'll grow to mend your broken

keep

your

voice

s down I'm sneaking out hey! what's the big idea? keep your

shoot that dog if you ca

n't aff

ord to

feed

famine

fathe

red a moth shoot that dog if you

we've drained full confession booths polluted drinking wells with our that rat has g

ot it's m

other's eyes. breeding ad nauseam that rat has

grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.

that

rat h

as g

ot it

's m

othe

r's eyes. b

reeding ad nauseam that rat has

Eight wheels roll across the rink towards the aluminum bleachers, four on each of her black-clad feet. Above them her muscular legs are snaked with ink, banded at the knee by kneepads, and capped off by a green-and-black tiger-print skirt. Crowning this rock-and-roller vision is a helmet, also black, that she peels off to reveal a fierce red mane and sweat-matted bangs. She cracks a furtive smile: “I just got my fuckin’ ass wh-upped.” This is Drop Dead Red, No. 111 of the Philadel-phia roller derby outfit known as the Heavy Metal Hookers. She lifts up the hem of her sleeveless black-denim vest to reveal some tenderized hip meat. “This is quality rink rash right here,” she grins, survey-ing the damage as she pokes at her red-flecked flesh.

Drop Dead Red quickly turns her attention to an open box of Budweiser in front of her and cracks a semi-warm beer. Another Hooker, No. 77, the Slim Reaper, all six lithe and lovely feet of her (not including skates), follows suit and pops the top on another not-so-cold one. Williams asks a question through the mounting din, There is no reply. It seems none of the girls, rolling in fresh off the rink, have heard the soft-spoken axman, so he repeats his query, a little louder this time, to break through their surly curses and the cra-koosh of opening beer cans, “When you’re out on the rink, do you guys talk shit to each other?” Red turns to him and replies, “I usually just call a girl a dirty about every other lap.”