So I headed all the way soen to the Pearl of the South, The Redneck Riviera, aka the Florida Panhandle. I found myself at the home of an old friend, surrounded by paranoid neighbors.
What were they paranoid about? Seems they heard that a primer colored 77 Ford Torino was headed their way carrying two excaped fugitives from Louisiana. I tried to tell them it was just Boudreaux and is girl boyfriend, and that the boyfriend was fairly harmless, no matter what name he was using.
Didn't matter.
These folks laid in for bear. The next door neighbors made the 25 mile trip to Southern Alabama for some heavy artillery, then all took positions in the front yard while the young men laid down a withering fire of bottle rockets, screamers and mortar launched skybursts to ward off the fuguitves. They took to heart, I guess, that I mentioned Bill/Paul's sensitive, easily startled nature.
The smoke grew thick, the yellows, blues and reds flew in a symphony of protective fire. Thumps, thuds, pows and pops and lots of crackles were the order of the day as the cul-de-sac filled with all the cacaphony that about $750 will buy in the typical "Crazy Bob's" Fireworks Emporium trailer.
Unfortunately, the launching area is right where I need to back out to head back up the road to keep tracking the escapees.
I heard there's a bounty. Not on Boudreaux. On Bill/Paul. $2. That seems worth tracking him down and turning him in.
I want my two dollars!