BnL in Louisville, Part Two: Captain Ron is a Fucking Liar

BnL in Louisville, Part Two: Captain Ron is a Fucking Liar

Ah, so where did we leave off?

Oh! Right…

Sam Sly and Matt Dog whatever/whatever were sound asleep and reading, respectively, on an airborne tin can with “engines” hurtling toward Louisville, KY (the state, not the jelly). BAMN! Those lovable dopes landed like a sack of dimes hitting a tile floor. Given their earlier difficulties being airborne, Sam and Matt were pleased to be level with the sea and in the city they’d overpaid United to travel to. Yeah, I ended a sentence with a preposition. FUCKING GET OVER….IT. HAHAHAHA. (do you see what I did there?).

June 6, 2015: approximately 11or-so a.m., Louisville, KY.

Sam and Matt are pros. Not in the “hey baby,” The Wire sense of the word, but insofar as they pack light and get shit done…in the spiritual sense. First order of business: find transportation to their regal accommodations at the Baymont Inn and Suites…EAST and rendezvous with Pete M and his cabal of brothers, lady friends, and friends who are ladies. So, a taxi cab seemed the best bet given the airport’s distance from the aforementioned palatial hotel. Sam and Matt gladly glommed onto the first cabbie they saw, which just so happened to be a Johnathan Banks stunt double (you know, Mike from Breaking Bad…)

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Their cabbie, who later revealed his name to be, ahem, “Captain Ron,” was chatty, batty, and a little ratty. With a thick-as-molasses Kentucky drawl and the boots to match Captain Ron regaled Sam and Matt with tales of “Lawville” and felt the need to express all manner of political positions ranging from his views on gay folk to transgender folk to all those Moozelums he works with in the taxi biz. To his credit, Captain Ron was reading a book about understanding Islam.

Anyfuckingwho…

Captain Ron was skeptical about traffic and went a bit out of his way to deposit Sam and Matt at their accommodations. This detour seemed based in fact, based on Captain Ron’s experience as a mariner of land-boats. Sam and Matt later found out that Captain Ron was/is a fucking liar. Why? Well, $36 is why. That was the cab fare from Lawville Intynashinal to the Baymont Inn and Suites…EAST. Which was kinda funny, because when Sam and Matt schlepped back to Lawville Intynashinal, they availed themselves of the modern-day services of Uber. And spent $16 on their return. $36>$16.

Fuck you, Captain Ron. Ahoy, avast, yar, you shitty scalawag.

Cheapskate kvetching aside, Sam and Matt made it to their hotel safely, soundly, and in dire need of alcohol. Matt took a shower to wash off the airplane farts and Sam contacted Pete, who hustled to their room with beers in-hand and hugs all around. Ahh. Satisfaction.

The normal trio doubled with the addition of Pete’s brother, Pete’s brother’s special lady friend, and Pete’s own special lady friend, who had a horrible shaving accident and somehow managed to alleviate herself of quite a bit of hair on one side of her head. What a klutz!

There was quite a bit of drinking in Sam and Matt’s hotel room: Pete’s homebrew; random crafty beers; atrocious bourbon; and a beer presumably brewed from anal froth and smegma by Satan himself in a cauldron made of aborted fetus skulls.

Exhibit A:

Satanic Butthole Juice

Satanic Butthole Juice

June 6, 2015: approximately 3or-so p.m., Louisville, KY, Baymont Inn and Suites…EAST.

But all this drinking made the BnL gang kinda’ hungry. Hangry, even. Horngry, too (just Matt). So the gang and its ribald roadies made their way to some godawful chain restaurant (where Matt’s beloved River North Brewing hat now lives because he’s a forgetful shit-heel). More beers were consumed and Matt had at least one slice of pizza. But he did take a few candid shots of Pete M and his adorable, shaved-headed soulmate:

Huuurrpp

Huuurrpp

Okay. I bet at this point you’re thinking, “Jesus, wasn’t the point of this ‘article’ to relate the experience of seeing a Murder By Death show in Kentucky? Not, like, all the other crap that happened?” If you said that then I hope you die of gonorrhea and rot in hell. If you didn’t say that, then I wish you a long happy life. Or, rather, as long as your liver holds out.

After “dinner” the gang decided to head back to the hotel to regroup and figure out where in the holy fuck this fucking show was going to take place. However, as is normal for this motley band of lovable lushes, a trip to the local liquor barn was in order.

Matt Dog found his one true love:

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Swoonzies

And ol’ Sly rendered payment for goods purchased:

I know I have money somewhere in here...

I know I have money somewhere in here…

Beer acquired, the gang made its way back to the hotel and sat there with its collective (Sam’s) thumb up its ass until….

EGADS! An e-mail from Murder By Death hath arrived to relate the locale of said band’s most secretive showing! As we suspected it was not where LIARFUCK CAPTAIN RON said it might be. It was, in fact, here: “Drive up blahblah road for a bit. Go past the park. Eventually. EVENTUALLY. You’ll drive by a hill: when you see a door in that hill, stop, because you’ve arrived.”

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Okay. Remember when I said that Matt Dog and Sam were pretty sure this was a pretext for mass murder? “Oh, just park and go into a random door embedded in a fucking hill in Kentucky, the only state east of the Mississippi that was neutral during the Civil War.” The fuck.

Well, luckily the gang was sufficiently lit at this point. NOTE: Pete M’s totally cool brother did not imbibe at all and was awesome enough to drive around a gaggle of drunken buttfarts for the whole goddamn day in his mom-van. He is loved. That much is true.

So, “address” in-hand, the gang made its merry fucking way to a hill with a door somewhere beyond the overpasses and community playgrounds and slums of Louisville. Perchance to see Murder By Death; perhaps to be slaughtered by a cabal of furries with meat cleavers…

Find out in the next installment of BnL in Louisville…Part 3: SHUT UP, YOU’RE SO LOUD

 

 

Written by MattDog 20/20

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