Bonnie & Clyde

The two outlaws were making a mad dash through Texas – headed for Louisiana. By all accounts, the law was on their trail and it wouldn’t be long now. The papers told glamorous stories of the two murderous lovers and the public was infatuated by the alluring idea of crime by day and sex by night. The attention drove the authorities to madness. They would do anything to stop this story – lawful or not. The time was now.

Even so, Clyde was sick of her shit and he needed a break. All day long she had been yapping away about the latest press clippings, her hair, Hollywood, and who would play her in the movie that was certain to come. And god dammit, how many Camels could she smoke in a day? Clyde could see the wrinkles and creases forming around her mouth already.

“Thee years. Four years at the most,” he thought. “And she won’t look any better than a Joplin whore on Sunday morning.”

His thoughts towards Bonnie weren’t always on the negative tip, but the day started rough with an Odessa radio report. Some scholar with a microphone had the nerve to consider Clyde ordinary. John Dillinger had good looks. Pretty Boy Floyd had valor and personality. Clyde had Bonnie… And, according to the report, that’s the only thing that set him apart from an ordinary criminal.

As absurd as it might sound, Clyde felt under appreciated.

He really needed out of that car… away from that damned broad… and finally found a decent rest spot just outside of Waco, Texas. The Ford sedan rolled lazily into a single pump gas station that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Clyde pulled to the pump, cut the flathead, and yanked aggressively on the parking brake. Without so much as looking towards Bonnie, he climbed out of the car and walked stiffly through the dust kicked up from the Ford that had yet to settle. A flickering light bulb above a marked door beckoned him to piss. She wouldn’t follow him there.

As Clyde drained, he looked straight ahead and seemingly through the wall in front of him. A few more passing thoughts of murder and crime and… what could he do to re-write this story? To get away? His eyes began to focus on the poster in front of him. He noticed his name and thought instantly of the people that wanted him. But this wasn’t a wanted poster.

“The Bonnie & Clyde Reliability Run. Test your car on February 11. Drive Fast. Win Prizes. Best Damn Girl In Texas.”

“Jesus,” Clyde thought. “I can’t even take a piss without someone waving that woman like a winning lottery ticket.” He read on.

“Registration starts at 9am at Austin Speed Shop. The Fee is $50.”

Fucking pansies… Clyde zipped up and headed back for the Ford. Bonnie was saying something about the humidity and her hair, but noticed the look on Clyde and shut down mid-sentence. She knew that look. Infamy would soon outshine hallucinations of fame. Blood would soon run. Clyde was going to work.

He topped off the tank, slid briskly into the driver’s seat, fired up the motor, and turned the wheels of the car hard. Pearls of sweat on his brow. Thoughts of rage in his mind.

“Where are we going love? What about Louisiana?” asked Bonnie only half certain she would get any kind of an answer.

“Never mind Louisiana,” replied Clive. “We are headed South to the capital.”

Bonnie was confused. Why Austin and why now with the coppers hot on their trails? Although she was familiar with life on the run, she wasn’t quite used to it. She never could be. Scared and unsure, she lit a Camel, sat back in her seat, and wondered where it would all end.

More details here.