Rumblitis--Chapter Twenty (Washington Whiteskins)

  
   As always--my books:  King's Books! 
  
   TWENTY:
  
   The ebony cool, merged, of course, with shamrock resonation, being Shamra Soul, escorted Ray Rumble back to the sprawl of his Montana suburb.  She smelled delicious; moreover, let her patient take a few puffs from her KOOL Menthol, saturating his lungs with the freedom of personal choice--even if it killed ya.
   The day passed in supermundane fashion, Staci Rumble and Shamra both engaging in a cackled conversation concerning Ray's pure BatShit Crazy; plus, some positive comments as well, reminding each other that he once punted the pigskin near 80 yards in the mysterious CFL. 
   And as Ray listened to the sublime synergy of the twosome, he mentally tongue-lashed Bob Costas, reminding, schizophrenically, that "Redskins" was not meant to inflict insult, yet celebrate the beauty of God's greatest warriors; also, Ray decided:
   "Why not the Washington Whiteskins?  That would be perfectly okay with the crackers in the country, for Mr. White Bread is diminishing in numbers, giving away to a Multi-Hued Nation that is transcending the original (White) architecture of America.  Yup--the Washington Whiteskins--a pic of General George Washington on the helmet planting a cannabis seed, remembering the American Indian and their love of a cultivated Nature, something besmirched by the modern Political Machine--moralists and socialists alike--for the children are fragile, and we must cautiously construct a NERF World."