Poopypants and Heavy Metal On Board the N-Judah - m4w
“In the beginning, good always overpowered the evils of all man's sins . . .”
It sounded strangely familiar. I listened more closely.
“But in time the nations grew weak and our cities fell to slums while evil stood strong . . .”
Now I knew I had heard this before. Heavy Metal's voice was steadily rising.
“And it has been written: 'Those who have the youth have the future.' So come now, children of the beast be strong and shout at the Devil!”
Then Heavy Metal started doing air drums to Tommy Lee's unmistakable rock beat. From deep within I felt an strong urge to rock it with Heavy Metal, but something held me back. For one thing, Heavy was obviously insane. For another, he was drunk. For another, he was talking about the Devil. I rode on in silence as Heavy relived the dawn of hair metal in his drunken, schizophrenic trance.
The next time I saw Heavy on the N, it was early morning. The business commuters obviously weren't ready for anything like Heavy; they traded nervous glances as he sang to himself. This time it was some vintage Maiden:
And by the light of the moon.
He prays for their beauty not doom,
With heart he blesses them,
God's creatures all of them too.
“Rime of the Ancient Mariner” has never been a favorite of mine. If I were to choose any song off Powerslave, it would have to be “Back in the Village.” But whatever. Heavy was in his zone now.
Then the spell starts to break
The albatross falls from his neck
Sinks down like lead into the sea
Then down in falls comes the rain
In case you've never heard the song, I should explain that at “rain”, Bruce Dickinson screams like bloody murder and the band goes back into the metal riff. Heavy is no Bruce Dickinson, but his imitation was close enough to terrify the morning commuters. Fortunately for them, he got off at 19th Ave. and went to buy more beer.
This morning when I got on the N-Judah, Heavy was gone. All the seats in the front were taken, but I noticed that almost all the seats in the back of the car were empty. "What luck," I thought as I strode back to claim a seat. I had just settled in and started to sip my coffee when it hit me--the stench, I mean--at first it was a gentle waft, and then suddenly it enveloped me. Then I realized, it was none other than the notorious Poopypants, in full force and effect aboard the N-Judah.
As I clutched my bag and scampered back toward the front, I saw the skeletized look of nearby passengers. "Save yourself!" their eyes seemed to cry out to me as I fled. I desparately struck the sidebar to open the door and ran to the rear car to avoid the fumes.
This missed connection goes out to Poopypants and Heavy Metal, and all their victims. Somewhere I know there is a place for them, as the song goes, "in this world or the next."