drunk in the heart of texas, pt. III

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CHAPTER III

Friday morning came fast and ugly, gentle readers, thanks in large part to the healthy doses of mescal and whiskey that intertwined MoM's late night practice session. That didn't stop our manager, Texas Kelly, from letting out a startling bloodcry as he jumped off the room's only bed.

"C'mon, li'l doggies!" he hooted. "Y'all's gig's in thirty minutes, and I don't reckon to be late!"

My bandmates and I rose from our less than comfortable sleeping positions on the floor, all the misery of the world etched in our faces. I had vague recollections of things getting out of hand the night before... and I'm pretty sure my "sacriligeous reverend" persona had surfaced at some point, as my Universal Life Church minister credential was lying on the ground near my head. Sadly, this picture tells me more than I want to know:

From Left: MoM Fiddler Rudy And Lead Vocalist The Haiku Master Get Crazy At Thursday Night's Practice Session

"Christ, my head," I muttered. "Feels like someone's been kicking it!"

"Heh heh heh," Paulo chuckled nervously. "Sí -- you were kicking it! Like old school! You drink too much, Hombre muy Extraño! Too much, too much!"

"Yeah, I suppose that's it..." I said.

"Enough of that!" Kelly roared. "C'mon, we gots to go!"

Within moments, we were loaded into the Masters of Mariachi tour bus, with Kelly's henchman, Dubya, at the wheel.

"Dubya drive," the lackey grunted. "Dubya drive fast. We get there real soon, you see. Shock and awe!"

I certainly wasn't going to argue with the bearded freak, and took a seat at the back of the bus. The ride to the Austin Wal-Mart was uneventful, though I was put off by this seemingly innocuous road sign:

The Brotherhood Of Catfishermen Rule South Austin With An Iron Fist

"Sweet Jesus!" I gasped. "The Brotherhood is here? In Austin? For how long?"

"Ages," said T.K. "In fact, they're backing today's gig. But let's drop that subject -- they have spies everywhere, and I'd just as soon not piss them off."

"'Nuff said," I agreed, as the bus pulled into the massive Wal-Mart parking lot. Thousands of eager mariachi fans awaited us with baited breath. And why not? They were, after all, about to get Mari-rocked!!!

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