Chapter IX
Garbage and War
A foam-rubber car bounced off the front of the thundering orange and green garbage truck, veered into a bubble moped and bumped into a box van. Mikek cackled as he watched the accidents accumulate upon the frontview, rearview, and sideview octagons that comprised his bugview windshield.
“That wasn’t nice,” said Champ, seated in the sucker’s seat directly behind the driver, observing the c*****e.
“I ain’t nice,” admitted Mikek. “You can even ask my momma.”
“Don’t really need to ask anybody.”
Of the three men with whom Champ sucked garbage, Mikek was the smelliest, the fattest, the rudest and the meanest, yet somehow, he was happily married and the father of two irrefutably lovely girls.
The driver eased the steering staff to the left, and the garbage truck
