YOU’RE TWISTING MY MELON MAN

We’re in the Grand Canyon State and just got pulled over by Arizona‘s finest. Officer Gonzalez, a light brown boy in blue made Natalie produce her licence, registration and passport and made her walk back to his awaiting black and white while I was instructed to sit on the step like a naughty schoolboy. This did give me the opportunity to take the knife off my belt and throw it in the firewood cupboard along with the other weaponry; a fuck-off big stick, pepper spray and in extreme cases Natalie can do a rather good impression of a German Shepherd. Not a dog, just a Bavarian sheepherder called Dieter who has lost his lambs.

We knew our back light was broken, we will, of course get it fixed in the next town, Officer.

Negative thoughts flashed across both our minds as we were split up, what if it was full of drugs when we bought it, or there were hundreds of tiny Mexicans living under the thing? Cortez’s cooking chimichangas in the carburettor, Salazar’s seeking sanctuary in the spark plugs, Escobar’s eating enchilladas in the exhaust pipe?

He asked us a list of questions… where had we come from, how long we had been there, where were we headed, how long we had known each other, what relationship we were to each other, how much had we paid for the RV and whether it was full of drugs.

Luckily our answers were consistent, even if they were a pack of lies. According to US Law unfortunately we are now boyfriend and girlfriend; we both said it. Natalie with a long “errrrr…” as a prefix and me with “but it’s a long story” as a suffix. Nevertheless, it’s on record. I wish I told him I was going to fuck and eat her now, it would have been easier.

I was made to go stand by a road sign so I couldn’t jump him but Natalie thought he was going to use me and the sign as target practice so my lifeless body would slump effortlessly into the ditch but instead he searched our home for marijuana, cocaine, heroin and his fellow Mexicans. He did not find the ounce of crystal methamphetamine I plan to sell to New York celebrities or Marty, but he did totally check out Natalie’s permanently on-display arse-crack and smell her jar. He gave her a verbal warning.