2004-02-22 - 2:37 p.m.

Sick for the last couple of days; so I spent it in slumming convalescence: riding out midnight sweats and high noon chill in a small motor lodge, lying in thread bare sheets, the sweat from my palms making the walnut grip on the .44 slick, medicating on brandy and Nyquil cocktails.

The Tao of Bruce has been speaking to me in this time, as the pale light of my laptop plays out an endless reel of Bruce Lee movies and the floor of the motel room is scattered with Batman comics and schematics for mounting a chainsaw to my hand.

I ride the hot Florida midnight fever dream of fighting my way though the streets of the Magic Kingdom, Jeet Kun Do moves turning Mickey, Minnie, and those faggot Chipmunks into so much bags of broken bone and slop organs. Fighting my way through the streets, my nunchucku beating in polymer plastic heads, I enter Cinderella's castle, or at least the Arkham Asylum meets Dracula on crack version.

What would Bruce Do?

I snap on my utility belt and get to work. Vampire Disney Princesses attack: Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Princess Jasmine and Belle, all with fangs and blood coursing down perfect cheeks and pop-art breasts. I pull napalm and batarangs from my utility belt and start burning and decapitating. Hard eyed and cold hearted, I run kill plans and their back-ups and those contingencies as I murder vampire princesses and make my way to the bowels of the castle.

There, in the cryogenic dungeons I see undead armies of Mousketeers in their vintage '50s mouse ears and sweater sets all under the infernal eyes of Walt Disney's Severed frozen head in a jar.

What would Bruce do?

A reading from the Tao of Bruce

When zombies are involved, it always comes down to Chainsaws and shotguns. Hail to the King.

previous - next