The wide grin of a dealership's owner raises high atop wooden scaffolds, wavy blonde hair frays from beneath an oak top-hat as his story-high eyes hypnotize the daily sedated. Sparklers and fireworks ignite, mounted into wooden boards of the sign, fools become customers in loose and gawking lines, innocent bystanders are struck and turned into the "target market". They stare at the spectacle, as brass instruments scream into the distant sunset, forced by brass musicians whom insist. A lovely lady poses and presents a limp silk curtain, holding behind it, the inventory of dreams. Her soft legs prance and tangle on coat tails, abandoned at the cheek, cut off by net leggings for all to be drawn. The catch of the hour smiles between false and seductive, unquestioned talents are admired by all.
"One at a time" her felt gloves brace each consuming shoulder, a slight dash of comfort and conveyor-belt welcome into a vast, humpty dump.
Used salesmen greet the colorful and eager families into a new world...with half-empty bottles of scotch and browning pant-legs, loosely secured around ankles, as a pile of Chevy's burn in the distance. Warming extensions of sporadic vomit and obscenities towards invisible fathers echo over blowjob slurs behind unplugged Pepsi-machines and stacks of VHS tapes, molded into castles. Flags rise high above and praise "Fujifilm" as CEO's laugh and banter from a drawbridge made of VCR re-winders. As new arrivals walk past the triumphant tower, at least thirteen feet high, bodies in bandanas constantly grow, tossed out the backdoor of a game of roulette, only a slight glitch in their idea of the chairman.
Children enthralled to see the lot, so excited they bellow and cry for their mothers, who worry and clutch at their husbands, whom grin and accept their new vacation, continue into the wastes, excited to see the variety of food.
