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Picture Story
Mardi Street in New Bourbon on Orleans Gras
Page 2
Will there be a brief side journey wherein Truston's lifelong search for his
father leads him to the hollow and shocking truth that all those years ago,
his father abandoned him in a dirty bathroom sink in the French Quarter
because he couldn't afford a cocaine addiction AND a son?
And will Fernando simultaneously celebrate just two stalls away for almost
achieving his lifelong dream of filling up an entire toilet bowl with his
urine?
Will the boys stumble upon a thrilling number of beautiful women flashing
their young, supple breasts for cheap plastic beads, only to have Java obscure
each and every photo of said women by stepping in front of the camera to
display his approval of said breasts?
Will the group get separated from each other for almost five minutes, each
left with nothing but their cell phones, the clearly-marked street signs, and
the undeniable sounds of a massive gathering of drunk revelers to help them
find Mardi Gras and each other?
Or will the night end in utter sorrow, Chris succumbing to the mildly deadly
pancreatic disease that has haunted his family for the past twelve
generations?
Will the boys finally get some beads of their own, learning the true meaning
of friendship, Mardi Gras economics, and the phrase, "Laissez les bon temps
rouller?"
We will never know the answers to any of the above questions, nor will we ever
know what happened to those four brave, yet misguided souls, because they
haven't confirmed any of what happened that day. And I doubt they will because
they are terribly secretive and lazy and untrustworthy. So we apologize that
this particular picture adventure is not really a picture adventure, but more
of a preview for an incredible and fantastic picture adventure that none of us
will ever see.
THE END
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