by Pterodactyl
Once upon a time, in a world very much like our own (although much dirtier) there was a community on the edge of town. The rest of the community was xenophobic of the people at the edge of town. Why? They were Caucasian Rubbish, or rather White Trash in a completely politically incorrect stance. The children of the people that lived in the picturesque areas of town drove through the outskirts in their Mercedes, Convertibles, Speedy Roadsters. They did this at night, under cover of darkness, so if they chose to throw anything incriminating from their professionally tinted windows they would not be identified. They hollered foul obscenities which were neither politically correct nor correct in describing the people. They yelled "Porch Monkey!" although one will find through minimal research, that a porch monkey is the slang term for a poor black person, and these people were white. They reclined on their verandas more palpable—their peeling, wind beaten porches, drinking cheap beer, cheap wine, cheap liquor and cheap spirits out of paper bags.
Yes they were white, but somewhere along their family tree, a branch fell off, and began to rot in the dirt. Then the bugs began to dwell in the fallen branch. They were earwigs, leeches, roaches and big, slimy, white potato bugs.
The rest of the tree desperately tried to destroy the now prosperously rotting branch with cans of Raid o'plenty. Amazingly, the branch thrived on despite continuous onslaughts, and the rotting branch grew to be a scraggly bush.
The kind of bush that has to be staked and tied down for fear of being blown away.
The kind of bush that the white trash father and/or the white trash son would urinate, defecate or vomit upon when coming homeward after a long night of drinking cheep beer.
The kind of bush that would be urinated on when the plumbing backed up due to hair clogs, and when the unneutered, slightly rabid mongrel dogs would search for a place to mark their territory.
This bush should have withered and died long ago. It was given inadequate light from the smoggy skies and it wasn't watered by clear liquid to drink and it wasn't fertilized in the proper way and yet it lived on. Growing strong and weakening with every divorce, domestic assault, beer brawls, welfare check, unemployment notice and teen pregnancy.
And so the white trash families lived in their own community of filth and near homelessness. The children of the wealthy Upper Class continued to hurl stones, bottles and vindictive words.
They were joined in their defaming by their parents who imposed beautification project after beautification project, and implemented community social programs, but to no avail. The Upper Class thought that the White Trash people were unhappy, and by making programs they thought they were helping them.
In all actuality, the White Trash people were quite happy.
Happy to use food stamps.
Happy to shop at the Salvation Army and wear used clothing.
Happy to use Food Stamps.
Happy to scratch themselves and go to the Family Practice Center to treat STDs.
Happy to buy condoms from the dispenser at Mini-Mart, and happy to drive rested, out-of-date gun boats that drag mufflers behind them.
The Upper Class did not realize how the White Trash took joy in this. They saw their programs and charity drives fail, and decided that "if you can't change 'em, kill 'em."
They devised a stealthy plan to set up a string of underground bombs that would destroy the White Trash development in a chain reaction off lethal explosions.
Sadly they failed to see the loopholes in their plan, for the Upper Class and the lowest class were not completely segregated.
There was a young man of the White Trash persuasion that attended a high school. Now this high school was the only one in town. So the White Trash boy attended school with many of his counterparts and the children of the Upper Class families. Now, as chance would have it (and it will), the boy, who's name was Jesse (very common among the folk), fell in love with a girl of the Upper Class persuasion.
She, in turn (through a series of disgusting flirtations on Jesse's part), fell in love with him.
I must now take a moment to explain that there are different levels of Upperclassdom. The girl, Marcie, was at the level that was classified as Middle Class.
The Middle Class, although they happen to be able to actually communicate and reason with White Trash, are still obligated to hate them and plot their demise.
Jessee found out from Marcie that the Upper Class people of the town planned to destroy the White Trash. His first thought was to take Marcie, get married by a justice of the peace, rent a cheap motel room and... Hell, with the motel room—a stolen car would do—make her his wife (until she got fat) and run away from that horrible town with it's horrible ideas.
His second though, and he was quite lucky to have a second one, mind you, was of course to foil their plans.
He strayed far from his background and decided to CHECK OUT A BOOK FROM THE LIBRARY and... READ IT!
TO BE CONTINUED...