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SCREAMIN' BEEMER



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SCREAMIN' BEEMER

I rode into this dust-bowl town, Ate beans at the local dive; When a few old boys began to noise Some anti-Beemer jive. Now, I had a screamin' Beemer, (That's B.M.W. to you), And she could pass 'most anything, Either around or through! But these yahoos just laughed at me, 'Claimed I forked an old man's bike; 'Suggested that I trade her soon On a wheelchair or a trike! I challenged them to meet me Come sundown, Friday night; They all showed up, though few came back, I reckon they died of fright. They all lined up along the side Of the dustiest road around; Just bat your eye and the breeze from that Brought dust from off the ground! I had the Beemer atop the hill, The crowd stood there below; Just a-laughin' and a-pointin' And a-darin' me to go! I fired her up, she came to life, And roared like the ocean's tide! 'Made mountains quake and people shake And dogs run off to hide! I looked along the dusty road To eyes peering up in wonder; At first they searched the skies for clouds As they heard my Beemer's thunder! I hauled in the clutch, dropped her in gear, 'Said, ""Town-folk, hold on tight! If you've not seen pure hell on wheels, You're gonna see it tonight!"" I blasted down that dusty road, And had already doubled back, Before the dust from my first pass Had lifted from the track! 'Caused eyes to pop and chins to drop 'Til belly met with jaw; No one really quite believed What their eyes just saw. As I shot past people asked, ""Is it a rocket or a jet?"" My show was through 'cause everyone knew I'd just won my bet. I still felt disappointment As the end of the ride grew near; The motor hadn't been running right, She'd been stuck in second gear! Then as I slowed, and as I stopped, And as I turned the Beemer off, A silence fell across the crowd, Except for an occasional cough. Two hundred eyes were on me; My blood began to run cold; When some man said, ""Hurray for him!"" And then he stood up bold. He said, ""You're what we're looking for! Yes, you're just what we need! Our town could be a metropolis If but my plea you'll heed! No one ventures to our town Because of all this dust; So, if we're to grow this dust must go, Really, sir, it must!"" I said, ""I see you're right, sir, But there is nothing I can do."" He said, ""There IS! The answer is Your B.M.double-U! Mass in motion creates a draft, (Now follow my deduction), Your Beemer's speed is all we need To build the needed suction! You can see that with this dust We're really in a pickle; But you could haul it all on out In the slipstream of that sickle!"" Suddenly…In harmony… A cheer rose from the crowd; It started low, began to grow, And soon was sung out loud! Fireworks fired out, Each one followed by a streamer! A plane was writing in the sky, ""WE THANK THEE FOR THY BEEMER!"" A pretty girl with flowers kissed me on the cheek; I helped her board the Screamin' ""B"" And took off in a streak! That dust was like a mountain, but I knew that I could move her; As I flew past people asked, ""Is that a Kirby or a Hoover?"" I dumped the dust days later In an old mineshaft I found; And that pretty girls with flowers Is still a-hangin' 'round. The town is growing quickly, Like it's never going to stop; And boasts the country's largest Screamin' Beemer shop! So if somewhere someone's saying, With an eye to future cast, That the Beemer's days are numbered As a relic from the past; Take a trip to this old town At Friday’s final gleam; A tradition set to this day yet, The purebred Beemers scream!
Wes Stephenson

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