The Outcast

With a few big corporations owning the majority of the media, it is no wonder the miles between society have been shortened considerably.  News, stories of interest, jokes and any other form of communications, are spread at such a rapid pace, for many it can be overwhelming.  Society, is in touch.  Mr. Bill laments, the Internet ruined the joke business.  Not really, many people are like him, they rely on someone else to seek out the "good stuff."  Being wired just makes it harder to figure out where the hell you heard it. 

Drew, a young man, slightly different than most (actually a hot shit and frigging weird), loved jokes, all kinds, subject matter, obviously didn't matter.  In his weirdo world of comedy,whether ethnic, dark, grotesque and so forth, Drew was the epitome of diversity.   Anyone would have a hard time proving Drew was targeting a specific group, everyone and everything was fair game.   Drew really didn't fit into society nor did he want to.  Was it alcohol or drugs, probably, but in a strange sort of twisted way, he was likable and to a certain extent, hilarious.  The man loved a good joke, didn't care who was within earshot, it just flowed from his wild strange looking frame, like some sort of poetic prose.  Arriving at Fred's News, he usually park his old beat up truck in the back driveway.  If Mr. Bill noticed him pulling in, he tried to head him off by meeting him on the loading dock.  "any good jokes for me today, Drew?"  Mr. Bill would question.  A tactic that worked like a charm, only because Drew was basically anti-social, really only stopped by to tell the Egg-Nazi a few jokes, rip society apart and bitch about everything, usually ending with, "this is why I live in the f#*king woods."  A personality, that had he been more social, would of rivaled Bill Maher.  Unfortunately, he was a tangent personality, you just had to be cautious of what type of tangent he might go off on!  Regardless, many of his words were the truth, just no one took him seriously.  With his wild mane flowing in the breeze and an unkempt beard, he looked very much like the " outcast of society."  That's the way Drew wanted it.  He dreaded having to visit his parents home, not being able to be himself.  He said he would abide by their wishes, watching what he said.  I find that very hard to believe.  But Drew was accepted at Fred's News, even talking with a few patrons.  He learned, having a bad day, get the hell out!  Oddly enough, but totally understanding, he was friends with "Johann the Nephew...Great!"  Go tell, who would of thought, two peas in pod.  One late summer afternoon, Mr. Bill was out watering the flowers, he watched as Drew, ever so slowly maneuvered his old jalopy into the back yard.  He figured he'd better check out the mood, before he entered the restaurant.  Making his way, dragging the hose off the sidewalk, he reached the back yard.  Sitting in his truck, waiting for him, was Drew.  Windows up, some other wild looking guy, Mr. Bill could hear laughter coming from the truck.  As he approached the side window, Drew rolled down the window, allowing smoke to drift out the side, yes, the scent of good grade pot!  Stoned, Drew and friend finally told Bill, they'd just stopped by to tell him the latest joke they'd heard.  Unfortunately, he couldn't remember it and he really didn't "a rat's ass anyways."  Said he'd be back, "when his mind wasn't so f#*ked up."  He laughed, coughed, finishing with, "if that's the case, your probably never going to see me again!"  With that he maneuvered around the driveway, finally leaving at a snail's pace some twenty minutes later.  We saw the truck later that evening in "Johann, the Nephew...Great's", driveway.  At the rate he was going, less than quarter mile to the place, probably took him at least an hour.