1990 Mustang LX 5.0

   
   "1990 Mustang LX 5.0"
   
   Ford put fuel injection in the 5 Liter Mustangs around 1987; nevertheless, every 302 cubic-inched small block always had a swift sprint, especially out of the hole, pinning you back in the seat.  Plenty of arguments arise over whether the late 80's and early 90's offered better performance in the GT or LX construction; regardless, it was basically equal, yet the ground effects from the GT models gave air drag that slowed down the gallop a bit.  Texas State Troopers started using the LX 5.0's during the late 1980's for mercurial acceleration.  Here are some approximate stats for the 1990 Mustang LX 5.0--here we go:

302 cubic inches.

Horses:  225.

300 lb-ft. torque.

0-60:  6.1 seconds.

Quarter Mile Dash:  14.7 seconds.

Top Speed:  145 MPH, and the eight-cylinders could hold that speed for more than a mere moment.  

The Name of the Rose

The Punisher knife to a gunfight

Crystalline Cool (46)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (46)"
   
   Dad, that stoic yet jovial Apache elder possessed something beyond symmetrical counterpoise, waking to his face being licked by the Golden Retriever dubbed Roadkill.  "You stupid dog--I love you, and I know a dog's mouth is hot and less contagious than a man's with wicked words."
   But as Dad pulled himself out of bed, he was filled with visions of reindeer and a biological son witnessing macabre things--this disturbed Little Wolf.  He had to wrap his patriarchal spirit around the young, crazy half-breed of a child, whom he adored.
   Remembering his son's words concerning the mighty King David, Dad said aloud to the reflective heavens:  "Let the morning bring word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You.  Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life."
   Dad didn't want pain to smear Duncan.  Didn't want violence to arrive.  Didn't want to go all Saint Joan of Arc on any soul armed with toxicity towards his child.  Nevertheless, he knew we are in the image of God, most of us, us sons of men, and those that are--many tapped into by malevolent spirits that thrive on pain.  
   Dad brewed some green tea with a kiss of spearmint, moved his bowels, fed the dog; next, blew further prayers to the heavens by way of a blueberry-flavored cigar.  

Crystalline Cool (45)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (45)"
   
   Rudolph allowed Duncan to innocently mount his back, no coyote dun but pure reindeer fur, and the young man rode bareback, flying off to the reindeer's Christmas intentions.  Not far from Saint Vincent Island, to another place in Florida, where so many elderly cool off with chronic air-conditioning that it's crazy; anyway, they anchored down smoothly in front of a Spanish-styled home, where an elderly man was being tortured by his caretaker; furthermore, suffering exploitation, as in his name were insurance policies being taken out for the benefit of others, and by way of using his Social Security money; plus, the beastly pseudo-caretaker had his ringtone on the vicious vibration of:  "Motherf&*%er!!!"  And it played over and over again, driving the man to sit in his own fecal matter; moreover, endure the television demonically displaying bizarre and allegorically cruel shows, zapping away his love of Gene Autry reruns, yet when people would visit, it would be swiftly switched back to family programming; however, the cell phone conversations were thug-like in front of the elderly man when he was alone, and no "F BOMB" should be dropped on the innocent ears of those so terrified and incapable of defense.
   "What do we do?"  Duncan asked.
   Rudolph was like:  "Santa knows plenty of angels within the Divine Justice System, such as the Arch-Angel Saint Uriel, him despising manipulation and inhumanities.  Or we could just record it with this little gadget I have here and send it to the local authorities."
   The twosome exited the scene, offering justice in a Merry Christmas way.  Even Trump says he won't let any man die on the street.  But so many, locked away, with an Asperger-like inability to communicate their problems in a social environment.  
   Rudolph told Duncan to stay of good cheer and be filled with Solomon's merry mirth.  In the end, it will all be okay for those who chant:  "The Lord is my refuge."  
   Next, the twosome had some eggnog, looking up at the heavens, knowing they were slaves to the stars no longer, united beyond, to the Divine Architect.  

Crystalline Cool (43) & (44)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (43) & (44)"
  
Dad knew there was no evanescence concerning Duncan's soul,
For the zeitgeist of eternity had no hole for the holy soul;
Moreover, only does one fill and thrill with the "rat race" if living within the conception of time,
Thinking Tennyson a mere rhymester, not offering harmonic vibrations of lines gone sublime;
Furthermore, Duncan was Dad's biological son, yet not his Wonderwall,
For the Apache elder knew the Great Spirit only could receive such a personal call--
Seek first God's Kingdom;
Next, the mystical phone without discord does ring with holy hymn.

* * * *

   Duncan and Rudolph got to be pretty good buddies, even though Rudolph couldn't help him work on the KX 200 with a wrench, for he had no fingers; still, in the dark, a cherry light was to be lit, and Duncan could see and fix. 
   The twosome freaked out the locals save the holy men.  The priests blessed the beast and young man, offering praise to the eternal love of Saint Nicholas of Myra, knowing the spirit of charity still resonates, for some.
   Duncan dug his ditches and Rudolph helped with that.  Later, they would read the Bible and be considered really boring, low-grade people.  Every now and then though, they got a kosher chili dog.  

Crystalline Cool (42)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (42)"
   
   Rudolph couldn't leave Saint Vincent Island; plus, make an eternal exit from his new friend, Duncan; as a result, he made a mystical  zoom airways, back in the direction of the young man alive in glee concerning his little shanty and lime-green KX 200, it fully armed with street legal updates.  
   Duncan was changing the oil, having already dug a few swampy ditches, terrifying the alligators with his unknown potency.  Rudolph landed, anchoring down with symmetrical cool, positioning himself perfectly on all fours.  Next, the reindeer shouted:  "I'm back dude!!!"
   Duncan turned from the 2-cycle Kawasaki, facing Santa's fellowship, asking:  "My man--what are you doing back?"
   Rudolph with:  "I just can't leave a servant of Christmas with uncool quicksilver.  Remember--it is God's privilege to conceal things and the king's privilege to discover them.  But I think you need a little help.  Won't get into Nebuchadnezzar the 2nd capturing Solomon's ring, possibly, with God's real name on it, and a Walker's heritage invading Iraq for that weapon of mass destruction.  Oh, where is the crusader Oliver Stone when you need him?  Conspiracy theories and such, but isn't life a mystery; next, death is the revealed truth?"
   Duncan was a bit thrown off, saying:  "I'm not exactly picking up what you're putting down."
   Rudolph lit up his joyful and luminous nose, saying:  "Just stay cool, knowing Christ came to set the world on fire.  And did He not?  Of course--that's why I can fly."
   Duncan changed the subject:  "I think I'll start watching hockey this year.  The American South even has good teams nowadays--how weird is that?"
   Rudolph smiled:  "Weird, or a further mystery?"
   Duncan returned the royal reindeer's smile; next, went back to working on his motorcycle--the reindeer coming close, and snuggling in with true love.