Henderson Oracle

Issue date: 3/24/08 Section: Opinion

Media Credit: Arshia Khan

4:31 a.m. - I arrived on the scene in response to several disturbance calls from various homes and trailers surrounding what used to be the Arkadelphia Family Bowling Alley. I assumed that since the parking lot was packed full of Lincoln Town Cars and Mercury Grand Marquis, the clientele inside would be docile and this was all some mistake.

Upon trying to enter the premises I couldn't help but overhear scuffling and muffled bellows about "commies" and "reds." I walked around the side of the building only to see several elderly gentlemen with walkers and canes huddled around two men, circling - very slowly - and taunting each other. As I made my way to the center of the crowd, I noticed a pile of loose change, various pills and a pair of dice on the ground against the wall. Archibald "One-Eye" Graham, 91, informed me that what began as a nice game of craps took a turn for the worse when Jerry "Geritol" Jenkins, 87, tried to "crawfish" on a bet of $1.22 and three Viagra.

I broke the fight up and the crowd dispersed and skulked away. Easy enough.

When I entered the center I was overwhelmed with the atrocious stench of Ben-Gay and burning plastic. The lights were low and the air was filled with sadistic screams and swing music. The first subject I came into contact with was Evelyn Abbott, 72, the new recipient of a titanium hip that she was damned determined to have me feel. She reeked of mouthwash and I could tell by the twinkle in her gray eyes she had at least doubled her daily allotment of medication. When I refused her advances she became very cantankerous. After striking me repeatedly in the side of the head with a purse that was full of enough pills to bring peace to the Middle East, I cuffed her and sat her against the wall.

Then I noticed a large group in wheelchairs who appeared to be drag racing down the lanes. Somehow, Mrs. Abbott - the mouthwash/titanium hip lady - managed to free herself and was standing atop the ball return machines signaling the start of the races by flashing everyone and screaming, "Get it on!"

After I was through vomiting, I managed to get her down, despite her incessant swearing and spitting. There was a vicious wreck in lane two that resulted in a few dislocated joints and prosthetic limbs scattered everywhere. The stench of ruptured colostomy bags was enough to make a nun start main-lining heroin.

Continued...

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