I was driving Oprah from her compound in Santa Barbara back to Chicago. We were transporting a Zuni Hunting Fetish Doll as a special gift for Stedman, and rented an old 1973 Green GMC van, I don't know why she couldn't have just bought a new car, but I guess she didn't feel like it after buying all those cars for her audience. It's a little sad when you have to buy your friends. Anywho, I didn't complain, after all, she was paying me 50 million dollars to drive her and she said something about not being able to sit in the car another minute with Gayle.
We were cruising across Texas, [I was in the front, Oprah in her wheelchair in the back. She wasn't convalescing or anything, just too lazy to walk, so I had to push her around, but whatever, 50 million] when I spied a hitchhiker in the road. She was all dirty and kind of crazy looking, so naturally I stopped.
"Thanks for stopping." Courtney Love said as she climbed in the back of the van with Oprah. She sat down, on the shagged floor at the back of the van. I eyed her suspiciously in the rearview mirror, I half pondered telling her "Ass, Grass, or Cash, nobody rides for free," but then thought against it, as I knew she didn't have a cash, surely smoked all her grass, and I definitely didn't want her to offer up some of her ass, so I opted to say nothing. Oprah turned the wheelchair so that she was facing Courtney and we continued for a few miles in silence. Then Courtney whips these pictures of tortured animals out of her purse and shoves them in Oprah's face. I don't think anything of it, until she starts going on about how great PETA is, then I knew she was a complete nutter.
"See, and they hook them up to electrodes and put lipstick in their eyes." Courtney was saying. I could see Oprah in the rearview mirror staring at the pictures rather intensely. "And the chickens," Courtney continued, pulling out another stack of pictures, "You won't believe what they do the chickens."
"Harpo hungry." Oprah said, but this seemed to excite Courtney, she started to giggle and bounce on the balls of her feet like a monkey getting ready to fling poo.
"Yeah, yeah, and they boil them alive." Courtney added.
"Harpo hungry!" she bellowed. "Want Popeyes!" For some reason this excited Courtney further. She was practically frothing at the mouth when she pulled a knife out of her bag and cut herself across the palm of her hand. I never knew she was a cutter, but somehow, wasn't surprised.
"Yeah, yeah, you like that?" Courtney said, waving her hand around, getting blood all over the wall carpeting.
"This is a rental, you cow!" I screamed, pulling over to the side of the road yelling for her to get out. The side door slid open and Courtney nearly fell from the van. As I peeled away, she jumped up and down, rubbing her bloody hand along the side of the van.
"Harpo want Popeyes!" She continued to yell.
"Yes, yes, as soon as I see one, we'll stop." I tried to calm her.
"Want Popeyes now!"
"Fine," I yelled, and pulled off the road. We were definitely in the middle of nowhere, but I guess you, dear reader, gathered that when I said earlier that we were in Texas. I hoped out of the van, and I'll be damned if I didn't smell fried chicken.
"Harpo want out, find Popeyes." she said calmly. I set up her ramp on the side door and wheeled her down out of the van. She pointed off down a dirt path that was on the side of the road. I told her that I would go get some and bring it back, but she demanded her chicken hot out of the deep fryer and that I push her there.
We were about half a mile from the road pushing though a thicket of several short dead trees when a man wielding a chainsaw jumped out in front of us. His face of leather hung loosely from his skull. The skin damaged and decomposed. As he raised his chainsaw, Oprah took off like a shot, running back to the van, leaving me with the leather faced man
[Next: Part 2: Electric Boogaloo]
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