Warning: Will Go Off On the 4th!!!

[jack_babalon]

I sat in the car and folded open the flyer again. A crudely drawn mob of punks and skins were standing victoriously around a crudely drawn anthropomorphic pig dressed as a police officer who had just been bootchecked into submission (his face had two "X"'s for eyes and little pentagrams orbited around his police cap). Closer scrutiny revealed that the officer had his ass sticking up in the air, pants pulled down and with what seemed to be a rather large rocket embedded between his cheeks. A malicious looking mohican was lighting the fuse while a rather large skinhead plugged his ears with his finger tips. On top of the flyer read the words: "THE DECLARATION OF INEBRIATION B-B-Q!!!" along with an address, an admission and a list of bands with names like "Adolf & the Piss Artists" & "The Harvey Keitels". I look up from the flyer and out the window at the actual address of the party: There's a group of gutter punks chasing each other around a beat up old Charger with cinderblocks for wheels on a patch of dead grass that might have, in another life maybe, been somebodys front yard. Their lighting bottle rockets at each other while screaming wildly. One of them, a pimply faced little street goblin, is swatting at the rockets with a plastic pink flamingo. We're in East Terminus in the late 90's and this means this is balls deep in the 'Hood'. I catch african-american families arriving for family cook outs from their landcruisers, step out, shake their head at the chase scene around the car before hurrying their children out of the street before a poorly aimed bottle rocket takes someones eye out. I fold the flyer back up with the directions written on the outside and hand it back to my friend sitting in the drivers seat texting someone on a primitive cell phone.

"I'm not going in there!" I tell Jimmy matter of factly.

"We'll only be in there for a few minutes..." he shrugs without looking up.

"You always say that"

"What?"

"That it'll only be a 'few minutes' and the next thing I know i've lost six hours of my life watching you explain to some retard how to count his money or work a pair of scales..."

"What're talking about?"

"How poorly our Public Schools prepared our generation for the necessities of urban economics..."

"What?" he looks up from the text screen at me for a second to shoot me a worried look.

"Nothing... I mean, look I was supposed to be over at Donna's over an hour ago."

Jimmy says nothing but rather makes a small noise of a whip cracking through the air several times.

"Fuck you..." I snort.

"Relax... we're almost done. I just gotta drop some shit off real quick, say 'hello' and that's it. Then we'll getcha to yer girlies so you can drink wine and eat expensive cheese and shit..." Jimmy makes a delicate gesture with his free hand mime drinking a cup of tea with his pinky sticking up and then he adds with a nasal tone he only uses to imitate my voice: "Ohhh Donna it was horrible... there were men there and they were drinking beer and then I ran out of Midol and thenmy pussy started hurting ..."

"Alright already!" I open the car door and step out.

"Donna do you have a bigger tampon for my big pussy?" Jimmy is snickering to himself now. He knows how the 'voice' gets on my nerves and revels in the look it produces. I flip him off, turn around and dodge a bottle rocket.

"Hey" Jimmy barks and the three Gutter Punks all stop and turn to him, "That shit touches my car and it's your ass! You got that?"

They all nod dutifully and resume playing, albeit a little more carefully now.

I open up a screen door, dodge another bottle rocket that comes screaming out of the hallway and the two of us head into the "Declaration of Inebration" party.

********

The band is covering Operation Ivy's 'Sound System' in the backyard. The lead singers voice is a gutteral bark though and sounds more Speed Metal than So-Cal Punk. Around him half naked skins swarm over each other to sing along while overdressed punks in leather jackets buzz in and out of a sloopily improvised pit. Combat boots trample plastic kids toys and empty beer cans into the mud. Behind the band a Charlie Brown looking Skin uses a ladder to get on top of a tool shed, he balances himself precariously, ready to stage dive into the drummer. He steadys himself, aiming his mass for maximum damage when there is the sound of cracking and Charlie Brown gives this 'I-Just-shit-myself' look and falls through the roof in a loud crash.

No one says anything. The band continues its cover. "Sound system gonna pick me right up, yeah..."

I look over at Jimmy.

"He gonna be okay?"

Jimmy holds up a single finger to me to hold that thought. He leans over and pukes up twenty bucks worth of Guinesses off the side of the patio. He wipes his chin with a mustard stained napkin and asks me to repeat the question.

I do.

"Fuck that piece of shit..." he says pointing at the shed with his chin, "Serves the fat bastard right ..."

"Wasn't that the guy you were supposed to drop that shit off to?"

"Yeahh..." Jimmy shrugs philosophically, "he's alright I suppose"

"So when do you wanna getta outta here?" I say scanning the crowd, catching some skater fondle his girl in a kiddie pool, his hand slides up a short skirt, her legs lift up, around his waist while she wraps his blond devil lock around her fist and sinks her teeth into his shoulder. A fat scenester in a trucker cap and a Grizzly Adams beard watches them from a lawn chair positioned a few feet away, he see's me eyeballing the scene and lifts a can of Pabs in salute from one voyeur to another.

"You lissen' to me...?" Jimmy slurs.

"Sorry I just..."

"Look man we jes' got here what's yer problem?" his breath hits me like a punch and I reel for a moment.

"We 'just got here' two hours ago man! Donna's not even answering her phone now..."

"So? Look man da Pussy'll respect ya more if you don't be acting all desperate for it everytime ish around..."

"We're not like that man..." but Jimmy has a look on his face i've only seen right before fights or police raids. I turn around and follow the gaze. I hear it first over the reverb of the speakers. A whistling scream. Then I see it: A barrage of fireworks comes sailing over the backyard, bursts of pyrotechnics are being launched into the crowd. I watch people scrambling, tripping over each other, I see a few of the crowd start diving into the pool for cover, another explosion, a bouquet of red-white-and blue sparks sends the band scattering, the patio is simultaneously emptying of those outside and refilling with those inside. Jimmy and I man the bannister, to dumbstruck by the technicolor assault to dodge. I catch the couple still going at in the kiddie pool but grizzly beard is long gone. Jimmy slaps me on the shoulder and points. I don't see anything. He slaps me lightly against the temple and points again and I follow his finger pointing at the roof of the neighbors house. There's a group of kids in hoodies sitting up on the roof launching roman candles at the yard.

Fucking Jawas!!!

One of them catches Jimmy pointing at them and they train a tube on us. I hear a whistling scream and a chorus of curses go up around me. I feel something slap me on hard on the back and I go tumbling over the rail. There is a blur of earth and sky and then all the air is knocked out of me as I look up and catch another patriotic themed artillery burst shower down on me. I feel a pair of hands lift me up and Jimmy's there smiling like a mad man, drunk, coked up, peaking balls and high on life!

"Fuckers want a war.... lessss give to 'em!!!" he reaches into his backpack and procures a bundle of his own Fourth of July Arsenal. He starts handing them to the people running back and forth pointing to the culprits on the roof. He hands me one and it takes me a few seconds to realize that the fuse is lit. I throw it up in the air in a panic and the thing takes ignites, launches into the air, twirls and comes back down for me, I barely step out of the way as it hits the lower roof of the house we're at, rolls down and ignites the American flag hanging off the roof.

"Hey did you see that?" this big Kojac looking mother fucker screams pointing at the flag. He looks at me and Jimmy with a look like I just raped his dog on his mothers grave. He comes barreling over out of the chaos of the crowd. He looks at Jimmy. Me. The flag. Jimmy again. "Those fuckers lit fire to the flag... The Flag!". To confirm this Jimmy and I both look over and catch pimple face goblin boy yanking it down and stomping on it with just a little too much glee.

"Gimme summa-those" Kojacula says with the air of a soldier volunteering for a suicide mission. Jimmy hands him a fistfull and a bic. They both share a silent stare. Some closet homo male bonding testosterone bullshit that I wish just once I could be a part of. Kojacula bursts into a sprint across the yard, leaping over the still fucking couple in the kids pool, takes the chain link fence between the yards with a quick scramble and all hell bursts loose!

***********

Five blocks away and two hours later we're still hiding in the bushes of an abandoned house. A police copter roars overhead sweeping the rooftops with a search light.

"How long we gotta sit here?" I hiss at Jimmy. Jimmy shrugs.

There's the sound of sirens and fireworks and tires screeching and the copter making another pass. We remain still, crouched down and scanning for any cops or escapees.

"Think we can make it to the car?" I ask him.

"STOP WHERE YOU ARE" an microphoned voice booms across the neighborhood in response followed by muffled shouts of defiance. There is another whistling screech and we see another round of fireworks light up the sky.

"So we just wait here, huh?" I think of Donna who is probably drunk, pissed off and horny in that wonderful way she could be all three at once. I'm a sucker for angry sex with angry women.

Jimmy just nods.

"What're we gonna do 'til then?"

He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a cigarette cellophane. There is a small patch of paper perforated into a small grid. He breaks off a piece of the grid that sticks to his finger tip, he points it at me in offering, I pluck it off, look at it, look up at the copter and realizing i'm not going anywhere anytime soon I shift my weight so i'm sitting cross legged, I wipe the piece of paper on my tongue and get ready to enjoy the rest of the fireworks.