dumpster

We received this letter today along with a delicious pecan pie wrapped in a used Wonderbread sandwich bag. We are currently working with local police to resolve this matter and find out how to get more pie.


To: Lost Highway



I’m not rightly sure who I need to direct this to, but I figure it only fair I let y’all know what happened.
It was an accident, really; I mean; this broad was crazy! She came in to the diner, muttering something about patty melts and proper place settings, and plopped herself down in a booth. I went over and gave her a cup of coffee, and ran down the specials. She ordered Bubba’s Barnyard Slaughter breakfast, which isn’t unusual at 3am; folks tend to crave chicken fried meats in the night, so it didn’t ruffle my petticoats. What did raise my eyebrow was the way she cut her eggs; all symmetrical and weird. I had other tables to tend to, so I didn’t pay her too much attention. I dropped her check, and the next thing I know, she was gone, her money on the table. Exact change, no tip! That pissed me off a little, but it happens.


Anyway, I’m taking the garbage out around 4:45, and I hear a ruckus at the dumpster. I turned the corner, and there she was, throwing bags and stuff into MY dumpster! I hollered at her, and she turned on me.


She looked wild, man! All sweaty and breathing heavy- Her eyes were crazy! She smiled all wide and toothy at me, and said something like she’d “be just a minute,” and kept on tossing stuff from this huge bag in to the garbage- and it was a nice bag, too; lots of nice pockets and things- I got closer to her, and hollered at her again to just go on, split, sister! and that crazy fool, she pulled a friggin butcher knife on me!


I told her to be cool, I wasn’t looking for a fight, she just needed to scram, I wouldn’t call the cops or nothing! She wasn’t listening, and she came at me, big as Christmas! I swung that bag of swill I was carrying right into her, and it busted all over her. Coffee grounds, cigarette butts, food… oh, it was nasty! She screamed and dropped her knife, she fell to her knees in all that yucky stuff, and looked at me. Before she could say or do anything, Bubba cracked her skull with his skillet. I guess the racket made him come outside to see what was going on, and he won’t abide by anyone pulling a stunt like that at his diner.


Well, nothing we could really do at that point, she was worm food. I looked through her bag, and some of what she was putting in the trash; it looked like she had been on the lam for a while. Lots of newspaper clippings and prescription bottles. There was also this huge binder full of movies and articles and stuff, where I found your email address.


So, long story short, Donna Bleed has shuffled off this mortal coil. I couldn’t help but notice she wrote about crazy movies, there’s a whole list here I guess she was planning to watch; and if there’s one thing I love, it’s a drive-in movie; so I figured since I’m indirectly responsible for smashing her brains in, and directly responsible for wrapping her body in visqueen and sticking it in the walk-in freezer, I could take up her slack for y’all.


Don’t worry; Aside from this letter here , we fry-o-lated all her other stuff, except for that swanky bag and her car. I’m more than happy to watch movies so other folks don’t have to!
If y’all are ever in the neighborhood, stop on by; we’re always open, and the pie is to DIE for!


Blood and Kisses,
Die-Anne Takillya