It was a dark and gloomy morning, 5:10 AM, before the light of day, the branches of live oaks arching over the streets of Southwest Houston …
Off in the distance … a Van, with only one living headlight shining cock-eyed; the 1980’s vehicle is swerving from side to side scrambling down the street, tires squealing — slowing, stopping, starting — darting, all the while humming projectiles from open windows.
As it lumbers closer (wait. lumbers is not quite right) as it CAREENS CLOSER, I push the wife up onto the sidewalk and yell:
“Watch out! It’s Stephen King!”
The mind goes mad.
Yup, it’s Jack Nicholson, cigarette dangling from a maniacal face as he drives the gas guzzling beat up ol’ van:
“Here’s Johnny!”
And of course, at the end of the road, illumined by the Van’s one living headlight are those two creepy twin girls …
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