some days the only thing that makes any sense is that story from louis sachar’s sideways stories from wayside school, the one about the horrible smelly kid named sammy who turns out to actually be a dead rat under a pile of raincoats.
ryan adams, wolves
i can feel the ‘mats influence alive in this
what a beautiful thing
My next stop was Ed and Fred’s Red Hots. I ordered one with everything and extra onions. There was someone else in the place, eating a hot dog under the yellow lights. It was a kid, a girl, a little taller than me, with a pointy rat nose and pimples. She had short blonde hair, tinged with green and sticking out in all directions. She was wearing a baggy red skirt that came below her knees and black, pointy shoes. She had skinny legs. She was also wearing a jacket about five sizes too big for her. It was orange and light blue. CUSTER, it said on the back in white letters.
”You go to Genghis Khan,” Rat Face said.
I must have given her a look that said, “Do I know you?” or, “How do you know where I go to school?”
”I heard your speech,” Rat Face said. “I go to George Armstrong Custer.”
”Good school,” I said.
”It’s a toilet,” Rat Face said. “You want a root beer?”
”Uh, sure, thanks,” I said.
Rat Face went to the counter and got two small root beers. “What you said was good,” she said.
”Thanks,” I said. I wasn’t too comfortable with this girl. She looked sort of sinister. I would have bet she had a knife on her.
(page 39) The Snarkout Boys and the Avocado of Death, Daniel Pinkwater