Coydog Chalcedony--Volcanic Ensemble

   
   "Coydog Chalcedony--Volcanic Ensemble"
   
   Not that he was boring, yet harnessing humility in the grip of blue steel, clothed in its electricity and neurons firing for the Divine Purpose, but he wouldn't let anybody know.  Cody valiantly ventured with him that day, the coydog's tongue flopping drizzle and saliva splattering the windshield of a used and bruised Mustang from the 1960's, when an eight-cylinder meant something, before all the ups and props of high intake and outtake combined with headers, super-chargers, and all the rest produced exclamation on the quick strip of asphalt--a ballet danced upon by thunderous steel; specifically, machines known as hot rods.
   What you sow; next, you reap.  Beyond.  And Hamish didn't give a damn save his own example of silence.  He wasn't harnessing Saint Joseph, though that wasn't a bad idea; nevertheless, David differed from Samson, from Moses, from Aaron, from Paul, yet ALL so similar, in an axiomatic passion towards truth, as if they had been robbed themselves, all for the purpose of God--to please Him; moreover, to make Him laugh, wane, wax, or better yet--give a true love about US.
   Hamish remained in suspicious silence.  Scary as there are among men.  Though the coydog made him vociferously laugh, getting all Strawberry Shortcake, at times.