-ONE-
"Oh, come on... you can't lock up a man for sleeping in his car... Jesus Christ!"
"You'd better quite down boy... you're already in enough trouble as it is."
Xander Harris, a twenty something with nothing other then something to do. All he wanted was a weekend trip away from everyone, to clear his mind, to rest a little, a weekend away from the torturing threat of demons. But like the Rolling Stones said, you don't always get what you want.
"Come on sheriff, I was too sleepy to drive... I needed a rest," Xander explained.
"Well, you could have parked somewhere other than beside a fire hydrant... what'f a building catched afire? Huh? And I'm not the sheriff, I'm just the deputy," the uniformed man countered. The deputy leaned back in his chair and smiled. Xander noticed how far the smile stretched on this guy's face and was a little startled by it. "Besides, boy, this lock up is the least of your troubles. You just wait until the sheriff gets here."
Xander lifted the bottom of his denim button up shirt and wiped it across his face. He then wrapped his fingers around the bars of his cell.
"Ok, look deputy..."
"Pyle."
"Look Deputy Pyle, I don't know how things are ran here in this backwoods..."
"AND WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?!"
This very loud, very high-pitched voice startled the entire station (which only had two desks, only one occupied by Deputy Pyle, and three cells, only one occupied by Mister Harris). Then from entrance of the station walked in a scrawny man with a rubber-like face. He was wearing the same brown uniform as the Deputy only he had a very large badge pinned to his shoulder. Xander recognized this man.
"DON KNOTTS?!!!!" he exclaimed.
"Boy, who the fuck is Don Knotts?" the skinny man asked. "Are you on drugs, son?"
Xander drops his hands to his side and began shuffling back and forth in his cell.
"Ohhhhh kayyyyy, where the hell am I? Where the hell have I seen this before?" Xander asked himself while pacing across the floor. He then turns back to the scrawny man. "Are you sure you are not Don Knotts?"
The scrawny man begins snickering, "Why no son, my name's Sheriff Barny Fife."
"Did you say... Barny... Fife?" Xander asked, almost shocked.
"That's right." Sheriff Fife reassured.
"Sheriff... Barney... Fife..."
"That's two for two."
"Heh... heh heh heh... ahhh hahahaha!"
"What's so god damn funny, son?"
"Well, well, this is obviously some messed up hallucination because, I'm obliviously in Mayberry because your Barny Fife and that over there is Gomer Pyle, whom I didn't recognize cause he is in a police uniform and not in a marine uniform which is just plain crazy on both accounts because one, Gomer was never a policeman and two, Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C. just plain sucked. And another reason this is totally messed up is because nobody in there right mind would make Barny Fife the acting sheriff, especially Sheriff Taylor because he knows better then anyone about Fife's total lack of policing skills and incompetence."
Deputy Pyle's chin dropped to the floor and (in a very Gomer Pylish way) said, "Weeeellll, fuuucck me!"
"So, I guess golley is out of your vocal repertoire?" Xander commented.
"Ohh, uh, here in Fiferville, we can say what ever we god damn well please, now that Sherif Tay..."
Sheriff Fife's eyes grew cold and his fists clinched. "Shut the hell up, Pyle," Fife yelled as he turned to Xander. "Son, what do you know of Sheriff Taylor?"
"Well, I know he was the best damn sheriff Mayberry ever had."
"Listen... this town isn't called Mayberry anymore... its called Fiferville...ya got that?"
"Fiferville? You've got to be kidding."
Sheriff Fife drew his revolver and quickly stepped near Xander's cell, placing the muzzle of the revolver upon his forehead.
"You're not kidding," Xander quickly tossed out.
"Listen, you little son of a bitch... Sheriff Taylor was nothing... he was nothing... that cold hearted bastard raped and molested that kid of his every night for laughs... him and Aunt Bee used to chain up that kid in the basement and fuck each other forcing the kid to watch. Taylor used to run this town with an iron fist boy. He taxed everyone, fucked all the women if they wanted it or not, murdered anyone who crossed him the wrong way, or just plainly gave him a poor suck job, poor ol' Floyd, rest his soul. Taylor had to go... he had to... that's why... that's why... I shot the sheriff..."
Xander looked at Fife and just could not resist...
"But I did not shoot the deputy..."
Fife pulled the hammer back on the revolver.
"You mocking me, son."
"NO... NO, NO, NO SIR! I would never insult a man who is pointing a gun at my head... its just sometimes, when the opportunity presents itself to make a joke, my humoristic instinct kicks in and... usually gets me in trouble... like so."
Fife then used his rubber face by releasing a sly smile, a smirk almost, and then holstered his revolver. He stepped back from the cell and turned to Pyle.
"You know what, Pyle, I think we have a smart ass on our hands," Fife said in a very Fife way.
"Smart ass? No, no, no, more like a dumb ass, yeah, a dumb ass... no smart ass over here, heh, heh, heh," Xander assured.
"Smart or dumb... at least its ass. And we haven't had a piece of it in a while, ain't that right, Gomer?" Fife eluded as he stood behind Deputy Pyle and placed his on Pyle's shoulder.
"Shazam, shazam, shazam!" Pyle exclaimed.
"Oh, how I wish you would turn into Captain Marvel right now and save my ass before Barney Fife's wang gets stuck in it," Xander cried.
"Oh, come on... you can't lock up a man for sleeping in his car... Jesus Christ!"
"You'd better quite down boy... you're already in enough trouble as it is."
Xander Harris, a twenty something with nothing other then something to do. All he wanted was a weekend trip away from everyone, to clear his mind, to rest a little, a weekend away from the torturing threat of demons. But like the Rolling Stones said, you don't always get what you want.
"Come on sheriff, I was too sleepy to drive... I needed a rest," Xander explained.
"Well, you could have parked somewhere other than beside a fire hydrant... what'f a building catched afire? Huh? And I'm not the sheriff, I'm just the deputy," the uniformed man countered. The deputy leaned back in his chair and smiled. Xander noticed how far the smile stretched on this guy's face and was a little startled by it. "Besides, boy, this lock up is the least of your troubles. You just wait until the sheriff gets here."
Xander lifted the bottom of his denim button up shirt and wiped it across his face. He then wrapped his fingers around the bars of his cell.
"Ok, look deputy..."
"Pyle."
"Look Deputy Pyle, I don't know how things are ran here in this backwoods..."
"AND WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?!"
This very loud, very high-pitched voice startled the entire station (which only had two desks, only one occupied by Deputy Pyle, and three cells, only one occupied by Mister Harris). Then from entrance of the station walked in a scrawny man with a rubber-like face. He was wearing the same brown uniform as the Deputy only he had a very large badge pinned to his shoulder. Xander recognized this man.
"DON KNOTTS?!!!!" he exclaimed.
"Boy, who the fuck is Don Knotts?" the skinny man asked. "Are you on drugs, son?"
Xander drops his hands to his side and began shuffling back and forth in his cell.
"Ohhhhh kayyyyy, where the hell am I? Where the hell have I seen this before?" Xander asked himself while pacing across the floor. He then turns back to the scrawny man. "Are you sure you are not Don Knotts?"
The scrawny man begins snickering, "Why no son, my name's Sheriff Barny Fife."
"Did you say... Barny... Fife?" Xander asked, almost shocked.
"That's right." Sheriff Fife reassured.
"Sheriff... Barney... Fife..."
"That's two for two."
"Heh... heh heh heh... ahhh hahahaha!"
"What's so god damn funny, son?"
"Well, well, this is obviously some messed up hallucination because, I'm obliviously in Mayberry because your Barny Fife and that over there is Gomer Pyle, whom I didn't recognize cause he is in a police uniform and not in a marine uniform which is just plain crazy on both accounts because one, Gomer was never a policeman and two, Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C. just plain sucked. And another reason this is totally messed up is because nobody in there right mind would make Barny Fife the acting sheriff, especially Sheriff Taylor because he knows better then anyone about Fife's total lack of policing skills and incompetence."
Deputy Pyle's chin dropped to the floor and (in a very Gomer Pylish way) said, "Weeeellll, fuuucck me!"
"So, I guess golley is out of your vocal repertoire?" Xander commented.
"Ohh, uh, here in Fiferville, we can say what ever we god damn well please, now that Sherif Tay..."
Sheriff Fife's eyes grew cold and his fists clinched. "Shut the hell up, Pyle," Fife yelled as he turned to Xander. "Son, what do you know of Sheriff Taylor?"
"Well, I know he was the best damn sheriff Mayberry ever had."
"Listen... this town isn't called Mayberry anymore... its called Fiferville...ya got that?"
"Fiferville? You've got to be kidding."
Sheriff Fife drew his revolver and quickly stepped near Xander's cell, placing the muzzle of the revolver upon his forehead.
"You're not kidding," Xander quickly tossed out.
"Listen, you little son of a bitch... Sheriff Taylor was nothing... he was nothing... that cold hearted bastard raped and molested that kid of his every night for laughs... him and Aunt Bee used to chain up that kid in the basement and fuck each other forcing the kid to watch. Taylor used to run this town with an iron fist boy. He taxed everyone, fucked all the women if they wanted it or not, murdered anyone who crossed him the wrong way, or just plainly gave him a poor suck job, poor ol' Floyd, rest his soul. Taylor had to go... he had to... that's why... that's why... I shot the sheriff..."
Xander looked at Fife and just could not resist...
"But I did not shoot the deputy..."
Fife pulled the hammer back on the revolver.
"You mocking me, son."
"NO... NO, NO, NO SIR! I would never insult a man who is pointing a gun at my head... its just sometimes, when the opportunity presents itself to make a joke, my humoristic instinct kicks in and... usually gets me in trouble... like so."
Fife then used his rubber face by releasing a sly smile, a smirk almost, and then holstered his revolver. He stepped back from the cell and turned to Pyle.
"You know what, Pyle, I think we have a smart ass on our hands," Fife said in a very Fife way.
"Smart ass? No, no, no, more like a dumb ass, yeah, a dumb ass... no smart ass over here, heh, heh, heh," Xander assured.
"Smart or dumb... at least its ass. And we haven't had a piece of it in a while, ain't that right, Gomer?" Fife eluded as he stood behind Deputy Pyle and placed his on Pyle's shoulder.
"Shazam, shazam, shazam!" Pyle exclaimed.
"Oh, how I wish you would turn into Captain Marvel right now and save my ass before Barney Fife's wang gets stuck in it," Xander cried.
