Doryce: we'll be there before you know it.
Gladyce: that's supposed to be my line. i'm glad you're taking the reigns, girl.
the two old trotters mangle their way through unmarked leaf roads and village speed limit signs. Doryce is noticing the old gal doesn't speak much anymore, her eyes droop, her breath labors under her lined neck quietly, but her throat still swallows. she's using her last drop to carry them over the hump. and not make a mess doing it.
Doryce for her part continues holding onto her friend on her back, arms swaying and interlocking.
Doryce: don't look at the ground, dear, look up at the stars. be curious. when morale is low we must look at each other and trudge on, for there is no cheating the universe. want some Silver Horse grapes?
Bama: i could eat a horse thank you. hey i'm doing my application online on my watch. what's the opposite of "catch"? like you know "that's the catch".
Doryce: it's not baseball, dear.
Gladyce: *wearily* silver lining.
Doryce: oh yeah, i can see that, that works. rest your lungs, homegirl, we're in the stretch drag. now i see what you were alerting me, too, clever girl. the grass is green despite the bonechilling blizzard on the horizon. you're clearing a path for us with your massive gait, opening a gate. hopefully it's not gout.
the party reaches Bomarzo and all that entails. the secret gardens and stone mummified fixtures of foxes and other creatures dot the landcape with gothic intrigue and muddled mystery, framing a fierce freedom that's not easily felled by vines. the Renaissance carvings on stone bespoil a latent history which awakens Doryce's heart and mind, she sees these giant runes as something more, something more ancient which connects the valleys of her soul.
Dorcye: this place would be spooky at night. but art is always art. what you reckon, major?
Bama: i can't look at a statue anymore unless it's of me breaking the record. all i see are many individual final exams in art-history class. they all start to look like Olmec, i miss that show.
Doryce: you've broken all the records in my book, love, all the ones which matter.
the landing party lands on top of the entrance goblin, a ghoulish-looking monster with his stone tongue out like an Aztec punker. they realize his teeth are closed.
Stan Lee: i'm not the janitor. this is not another cameo. i'm here because my life has been rough. where's my nurse?
Agnes: i'm not your nurse!
Bama: whoa! look over there, miss! a naked man and another man making love. that's the symbolism anyway. the one man is on the ground being held by the feet in the shape of an actual plow!
the teeth open up. a train jams by on invisible tracks of air. Bama of course on animal instinct tries to stop it with his bare hands. before he can turn around and get a good grip of the front lights the train has barreled him into the oblivion of oblivious thin air.
Doryce: darling! that gets you every time when it shouldn't. it would have gotten me as a naif waif, too, but i've since learned being a young naïve nympho. now i turn to the left. you should have turned to the left and seen that big turtle.
Josh Duhamel climbs out of the teeth. wearing Arab swag.
Josh Duhamel: what happened? miracle! milagro! it was dark here. the air is thin. it had been snowing horribly nonstop endless for weeks. i was about to close for the period, no students mean no Arab swag bags. it was scaring my small son. well okay me. you saved the tourist trap i mean national monument! these are not just a pile of rocks.
Doryce: *sighs heavily* i don't have time for an explanation. oh we know all about rocks, boys. now help me with her, hunk.
Doryce: it's not much warmer in here. but it's greener.
Josh: the least i can do is free you. as in free tickets for the grounds. and this McDonald's coupon. the only other person i offered this to was the Emirati man of mystery.
Doryce: that's depressing. that's the first thing i saw when we entered, the McDonald's in the corner. with a parking lot and everything tearing into the lush jungle landscape. and no yellow.
Josh: i always just have my real pizza.
Gladyce: *meekly* oh there's a sight for sore eyes! Jane O'Brien from BBC America practing hr axe-throwing on that poor log of a tree trunk.
Doryce: we always took for for a lamb lass, love. you seem so calm and collected reading the news.
Jane O'Brien: if i didn't do this axe-throwing, i'd use the axe elsewhere. John Oliver isn't enough. i have a lot of internal problems underneath my librarian demeanor which don't read on tv.
Gladyce: you gotta fight like an ex-secretary, dear. and join us when your training is complete.
Jane: life is one big acting clinic.
the Worcester Hills approacheth which means there is one last turn. into the McDonald's. or you could try the drive-thru?
Doryce: blegh. might as wll be a blocking sanitary truck.
Gladyce: Josh, you know why Fergie hackjobbed the national anthem on tv, right? it was to get your attention. i mean she's normally a good singer, right?
Doryce smiles and rubs Josh's nose.
Doryce: a woman knows. no matter how old we get, we're still women.
at McDonald's Emma Gonzalez is making up with her former beau, as kids do.
Emma: it was always you, baby! that Red Gerard was just a fling thing! everyone bags a ginger once in their lives it's part of growing up. i got Olympic fever but like all diseases it was gone after two weeks! a mere flu.
President Bump enters the establishment under heavy guard, well just the Hamburglar whose prison stripes Bump mistakes for a European uniform. Putin enters shortly after down the back way.
Putin: Forager Project you say? sounds like the Cuban Missile Crisis which was a disaster. botched on our end.
Bump: the best nuts i've ever tasted. malty. hey why did they change the Chicken & Stars? the old shape of my youth was better, the closed stars not the open stars.
Putin behind the counter in a paper hat: sorry, sir, we don't serve that here. we only fill up sippy cups with Fountain Coke. mcnuggets. mcnuggets? what a silly name. how can you americans eat a silly thing called mcnuggets, i mean think about it.
Bump: hi kids, hey kids, hey there. Santa brought gifts, check inside my Happy Meal paper house. unfasten the upside-down Ms which look like Ws. from EB. Emirati Boutique. got all the latest titles. Dead Terrain, Mortal Kombat, ooh i heard Mortal Kombat made a character out of me, i love any appearance of me in the media. don't worry, i don't jack off to the ninja ladies in the game that would be weird.
Emma: Ms. Pac-Man?
Bump swipes her hand.
Bump: NOT that one! that one's very dangerous, poisons the mind, teaches some corrosive lessons.
Emma: you've already lost us forever. for a generation.
Bump: nonsense, you'll get your cars back. i had to move them for the Qatari blockade you don't mind. replaced your Jeep Rubicons with Jeff Jeeps, gave them away to Jeff Goldblum. now you'll have space to enjoy the stars under the Malvern Hills it will be quite the concultural event, i'll be there with you.
Bump attaches a McDonald's birthday hat of Grimaces all around to Putin's face. the daze in Putin's face is matched only with its stun when the little tight string of the hat snaps into place under Putin's chin causing the offworld leader to smile like a dolt.
Putin: this was your Presidential Banquet for me? i hope you liked your stay at the Kremlin.
Bump: oh yes. there is no beauty quite like Russian beauty. it's like hot and cold at the same time. i met my next five wives at that party.
Putin: those women were all me.
Bump chews all the ice in his cup with crushing speed.
Bump: look at all the marker molecules in the fizz of this Coke. it's all yellow to me. this isn't the new Coke alcohol is it?
Putin: not yet. do you realize you burp all the time and not even notice it? i was told the Spice Girls would be here. that's their codenames anyway. i want to show the Girls my invincible missile.
Bump: hey i came in here cos i saw the W sign out front. where's Wendy? she's the only ginger i ever wanted to fuck besides my red handball ball. how did you turn the yellow M around in such short a time? must have taken herculean labor and manpower.
Putin: i have a lot of little men.
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