drunk in the heart of texas, pt. II

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CHAPTER II

After landing at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport, I was greeted by Texas Kelly's lackey; a wild-eyed brute who smelled of aerosol cheese and clove cigarettes, and bore a distorted resemblance to our nation's leader. He introduced himself as Dubya.

Dubya

"Like the president," he grunted, hoisting my bags on his shoulders. "Now come. Master Kelly waits."

He led me to a slick Mercedes convertible in the airport garage, and we were soon underway. Dubya drove like a maniac, weaving in and out of traffic at a fantastic rate of speed until we arrived at our destination -- the Stuart Beach Inn in Austin's Hyde Park area.

"Good, looks like the boys are already here," I said, noticing the official Masters of Mariachi tour bus parked outside our place of lodging.

The Official Masters Of Mariachi Tour Bus

"Yes," said Dubya, retrieving my luggage from the trunk, "they come last night. Very drunk. Very loud. Master Kelly have to detain them."

"Detain them? What do you mean, detain them?"

"You see. We go there now."

I was led up an exterior flight of stairs to room 222, where Dubya knocked out a stacatto take on "shave and a haircut."

"C'mon in!" Kelly shouted from inside.

We entered... and walked smack dab into an international incident in the making! There, in the middle of the room, was my band -- hog-tied in a circular formation, with thick slabs of duct tape wrapped 'round their mouths!

"Sainted mother of Nixon!" I gasped. "What in the hell is going on here?!"

"Aww, shucks," replied Kelly. He was sprawled out on the room's only bed, cradling a giant bag of Lay's potato chips. "Them little buddies of yours were all hopped up on mescal when they got here, caused a real ruckus. Had to mace 'em down and tie 'em up after one of 'em started waving a nasty switchblade around."

Texas Kelly

"Oh, all right then. As long as it's not some kind of weird Abu Ghraib sex game thing."

"Never in hell," he assured me.

Catastrophe averted, I untied Paulo and the boys before changing into a fresh ascot and smoking jacket. Then, it was on to a long night of intense band practice -- after all, those mariachi fanatics at the Austin Wal-Mart weren't going to rock themselves, now were they?

---CLICK HERE FOR 'DRUNK IN THE HEART OF TEXAS' PT. III---