*chick-click* BOOM!

Once I got to my trailer, I knew that I was home sweet home. I had sold all of my worldly belongings and I had bought a trailer in some addition called Rascals' Old Fasiony Village n Shit. I traded my car in for somethign called a pick up truck , but from what I gathered it couldnt pick much up around there.  I had ordered my collection off of QVC the day before and I heard a knock at the door. I knew that my life was now complete, I was going to be at one, with my heritage. I opened the door and 14 boxes labeled 1 of a Kind stared me straight in my face. I opened each one, one by one, and plaeced thme in their correct spots atop the walls and stuff. I put the Jesus on the cross, above the fireplace. and I put the flag to its right, and i put the oil painting of Jeb from the quickn go on the left. And I opened the final box and it gleamed with pure delight, as i opened it. I took it out of its horrendously large box. Dug through the 5 min of boxing peanuts. Took off the 6 layers of bubble wrap. Took the celiphane off, unhooked the emergency life alert button, just incase i fall and cant get up. I looked at it and was stunned. It was him, it was the King staring right back at me. Just how i had pictured him. There he was sitting on the toilet, pants around his ankles, blue robe on, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, huge obnoxious sideburns, wavey mullet of fantasticness, and a pile of vomit and pills on the floor infront of him. I thought to myself, what better a way to honor such a once legend, and now ongoing joke, by putting him on a plate, made in.... i turned it over and it read.   ROSEBUD!

I knew that i had to get the word out about this disease spreading accross the nation, so with haste i left the large womans house, and i got outside and my dam car was gone.  I asked her where it was, and she told me that it was in a safe place. I thought that odd, and as I turned around I was hit in the back of the head with a rolling pin. I thought to myself will the stereotypes never end?

I awoke in what looked and quickly began to smell like an outhouse. I tried to open the door, but it was locked with some sort of lock. I thought to myself, oh my god, I am dumber for just being here. I could feel my IQ dropp as each second passed. I knowed (damnit) if I stayed ther to long Ieid become dummerer like them all. I tried to break out, and i tried to climb out the top, but everytime i got up, the smell from beneath hit me like a fat girl in highschol who hadnt discovered deodarent yet. After I wiped to dry heave from my mouth, I took one big heave and kicked doen the door, as I did however, my right foot landed in the pot, and it was covered in things, that my mind cant ever fathom. Instantly my shoe melted off, and my skin began to burn. I noticed a sign that was dated yesterday and it was for a local colon burning chili cookoff. Well I think you can add shoe and skin burning cookoff also.

I climbed out and saw a water hose near by. SO i turned on the hose and washed my leg off and as i did I saw that there was no on insight. I didnt undertsand what was going on. I could hear faint singing in the distance. I looked over and saw the massive cult temple where everyone was at. I read the board and was stunned, it was an Apostolic Church. I knew I had to make a run for it, or the women in long hair and long dresses would attack me and i woudl never see alcohol, video games, sports, or shaved armpitted women ever again. I tried to make a run for it, but with only one shoe on and smelling like the inside of german womans bra, i knew that the dogs wernt too far behind. But as the dogs chased me i notice that they were all as imbred as their owners, and when two of them jumped at me and hit a tree 15 yard to their right, i knew i was going to be all ok.

I got into the first normal car i could find. One that didnt have a jesus fish on it, or an american flag that said i likes me some killin, or even a bumper sticker that read my first grader and i both attend Martin Landow Elementary School.  I found a car, and drvoe for as long as i could. i got to the next town, and i got a change of clothes, and the woman behind the counter looked at me and told me i looked familiar. I told her that she has never seen me before. But as i said tht she handed me a picture of a man sitting at that diner. It was taken 40 yaers prior, and i knew the man as soon as i saw him, but what i saw next made me quiver in pain. That man was my father sitting at that very diner  in that very very very podunk town, and he was selling, Elvis Presley Dinner Plates. I dropped the picture. And I knew in my heart that is was true. Why else would I have this obsession with Novelty American Shit. I knew that fake porcelin, heat tempered hand painted King of Rock n ROll was my past. And I knew what I must do.

I smelled the stench of powerball in the trailer, I knew that this woman was a die hard, to the last moment appitomy of everything you think of when you think about stereotypes. This woman was a walkign, well assisted walking jumble of everything that makes you laugh at mulletted people on the street. I looked at her wall, and there it was, like I was Indiana Jones, and it was my supposed to be last movie, the holy grail on the wall. Next to the buddy christ, last supper painting, and the odly out of place statue of Uncle Jessie from full house that if you pulled the cord would say Have Mercy,  but had been played with so many times it would onlye spit out Have Mer-Mer-M M M and then burst into flames.  The ellusive Elvis Presley Dinner Plate, on the wall. This was a rendering of the King in the movie Blue Hawaii, where he played a rock n roll musician surf boarder, than made all the girls swoon, like 13 year olds at an Nsynce concert, or whatever the kids listen to these days. I asked the lady if she would share the story on how she aquired such a fine peice of midwestern heritage, even though the king was from the South, but whatever.

She started off by clearing her throat, and when she did a chicken winged dislodged from her neckle region. After she ate the wing, she told me that her and her late husband harold hefferninkle took a road trip to see the King in concert in Nashville, Tennessee, and this was on the honeymoon. i thought to myself, of course it was. SO i let her continue, she told me about how they were driving down to tennessee when they saw a man on the side of the road, and they stopped to pick him up. They gave the man a ride, and I thought to myself, that this was the most boring story I have ever fucking haerd. SO I took out my civil rights coloring book, but quickly realized the only two crayons i brought were black and red, but that was ok because i was coloring Martin Luther King Jr. After I finished my 1000years of opression stickerbook, which featured a pull and peel cut out of rosa parks and a city bus. I told the woman that her story was fascinating. and that she was exactly what they need on Jerry Springer.

The Elvis Plate stared at me with its quivering lip of degredation, and its soulful get me the fuck off this wall twinkle in its eye. I knew that this was a disgrace of everythign that was love in this world. The Elvis Plate was bringing a generation of degenerate never been washed allegiance of 1/2 minders and local sherrifs. I knew that if this phenomenon of credit card weilding, sweet tea drinking, truck driving because they cnt fit into cars, spending more on crap than food, 12 kids having, 14 dogs humping 14 other dogs (you do the math), imbreeded sort of 1 tooth having people, needed to be stopped. I knew there was only 1 thing left for me to do.

As I pulled up to the trailer park, on this perfectly clear day. I knew that any minute God would open the skys and a tornado would hit this godforsaken place. Never have I ever thought in my life this to be true, then now when i was pulling into the opening of this, i htink youd call it a neighborhood, and I was greated by the worlds largest macaroni sculpture of Osmonds. Yes that is right DOnnie and Marie, staring me right in the face, as I pulled in. I htought to myself that was the wierdest thing i have ever seen, and then I was proven wrong. As i drove past each trailer, I saw that each one was of equally depressing stature and and and also each one grew with lawn ornaments and nick-knacts that made me feel better about my life, yet hate it for being there at the same time. I drove past one trailer, that had a sign in the yard that read, and i quote. Reagan for President. Whisky Tango Foxtrot I thought to myself. I drove past another house that had a life sized statue of Colonel Harland Sanders from KFC, I wasnt even in Kentucky, but you know if I thought that was the weiredest part of seeing that statue with a hawaiian shirt on, Daisy dukes, and a pair of elton john sunglasses, my brain would explode in my head.

Finally I pull Up to Mrs. Hefferninkles house, and I realized that I had hit the mother load. I stepped out of my car, and immediately noticed that this woman-kind of, was the queen of QVC, the superior white trash goddess around these here parts of Missouri.  I made my way up to the porch, as I did I noticed the things around me. There was a white picket fence, made out of cardboard boxes spray=painted white and cut into a winter wonderland scene.( it was june) I walked along what seemd to me to be a sidewalked but actually were stolen road man hole covers, i knew this because  the one i was standing on read, property of the city of Kansas City, MO. I shrugged it off, I looked into the yard and saw a white lawn jockey pained black, and it wasnt holding a lantern it was instead holding a WE LOVE DALE EARNHARDT sign, that says well miss you intimidator on it. Next to that was a nother lawn jockey pissing on a jeff gordon race car. Now that i liked. In the other side of the yard I saw a santa blown up doll, next to the easter bunny, and both of them were infront of the mainger of the nativity scene, but there was no baby jesus in the mainger, instead it was a makeshft dog house, and lets just say the dogs werent too kind to a baby jesus, i really dont think that a big jesus would have withstood that mauch doggy humping.

I reached the door, and rang the door bell, and I dont even have to tell you what TV show car horn theme that rang out like Sweet Home Alabama at a Mobile City Fair. After the 3rd time I heard the general lee, this mountain of a woman answered the door, she looked at me like I was seelign amway or i had just ate he lst 300 lbs of cheese cake on earth,  i stammered very nervously that i was from the tv, i was there to interview here, and with the smallest mouse voice she asked me to come in and offered me a jug-of-tea.