The 2019 Hot Rod Showdown

The 2019 Hot Rod Showdown

The Sheriff stood over a table cleaved cleanly in two. Around him lay the bodies of young beer cans every which way – newly dead or just barely hanging on to what was left inside. “What in the sam hell went on here?” he asked.

Deputy Burwell leaned over the ruined bar top and peeped behind it. “I’ve got more beer cans here – some even snuggled up with coozies.”

The two then moseyed out the double doors and into the town square. Their boots kicked up dust from the freshly stirred gravel. Six-inch wide by three-inch deep trenches insulted the streets in a haphazardly fashion.

“What do you make of this fracas Sheriff?” asked the Deputy.

“Likely a couple of those hoodlums got ornery and had themselves a drag race right here in town.”

“What in the hell for?”

The Sheriff took off his hat, wiped his brow with the bandanna his wife had given him in ’72, and then put his hat back on – careful to square it for dignity. “Well,” he said. “I reckon if we sift through this calamity long enough we will find a pink slip or two and maybe even a pair of lace panties to match.”

“Good god Sheriff… You mean to tell me these boys don’t race for money?” asked the Deputy.

“No. There ain’t no money in it. These boys probably hit our Pioneer town with the intentions of a car show and then something went awry. A snide comment on social media, a hashtag that rubbed someone wrong. There just ain’t no telling…”

“I can tell you this though. The hoods were here in force. Hundred or so hot rods must have lined these streets and there ain’t no beer left, so you can be damned sure hell was raised in one way or another. We just got lucky Meg’s boarding house didn’t get looted.”

“Uh Sheriff? Meg has been reported missin’ along with all her girls.”

The Sheriff looked over towards the Blanco River in thought. Fresh sweat beaded once more on his brow. His eyes squinted. His mind narrowed in on the facts of the case and what must have happened. He knew right then and there that what he was dealing with wasn’t no simple squabble. Nope. He and the deputy had stumbled upon an honest to goodness Showdown – one that would take years to recover from.

47 Comments on the H.A.M.B.

Comments are closed.