The Adventures of Evi and Randy Quaid

Randy and Evi's first adventure can be read here.  

They're laughing at the judicial system.

In April, Randy and Evi Quaid ran out on a hotel bill in California, and a court case much like a circus ensued, as Randy with a Santa's beard, and Evi with the eyes of a demented bird fought against their accusers. Golden Globes were presented as witnesses and were spoken to by Evi, and although no one had any idea what they had to do with the case, everyone knew one thing for sure: that these two were Fruity Loops. Loopy.  Crazy.  Insane.  Out there.  Wacky. . .  Retarded.  So naturally they lost their case, but celebrity status had saved them from any real punishment: they were required to do nothing but community service. . . But now, they've up and done it again, and this time, they've done a similar job on a hotel in Texas. . . Texas, where the boys of the Cibolo Creek Ranch gather now to tell stories of them, in the dirt and the dust and the boiling heat. . .

"I hear the Santa lookin' feller is real crazy."  The boy spat.  "They says he can act, but I saw him in that Chevy Chase movie t'other day in Ma's trailer.  Talk about a real goof."

"I hear he won a Golden Globe, and now all his wife does is talk to it."

"Yeah, I heard that."  Another said.

"What do you suppose an inanimerated objuct like that says?"

"Prolly nothin'."

"Then whys do you suppose she talks to it."

"Fer company.  Don't you know anything?  Crazy people always have to have something to talk to.  Most often its inanimerated objects, on account of them being so crazy.  Just like you said."

"You sure?"

"As sure as they's both crazy.  Look."  The boy pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.  "I hear em talking so I went to see for myself, and lookee here, its their bill.  And its got all kinds of strange requests. . ." He handed it to the other boy who looked at it in bewilderment.

"Five pounds of turkey. . . Four pounds of bacon. . ."  He read them off, one by one, slow and steady.  "Ten jars of mayonnaise. . . Seven towels. A bathrobe.  Fifteen pairs of socks. . . Eighteen quarts of whiskey. . . Five jars of pickles?  A hogs head?  A barrel of nails?  What for?  A hundred oranges. . . One hundred and fifty feet of rope?  A pick ax? Twenty copies of Vegas Vacation?  Do we even got most of this stuff?"

"No'm.  But its really somethin' aint?"

"Sure is. . ."

"But there's more."  The one boy smiled.  "'Parently the lady got some dirt on Dad and the hotel.  She said something silly like how she saved a'couple of camels from being destroyed by some 18 wheeler Fed Ex truck, and all the ranch hands just stood and laughed."

This is true.  In light of being sued once again for running up and out on a 24,000 dollar bill at the Cibolo Creek ranch with her husband, Evi decided to bring up a little dirt on the place, in hopes of it helping her case. According to Evi she saved two camels from being run over by a mad man Fed-ex employee in an eighteen wheeler, and as she did so, ranch hands working for the hotel just stood there and laughed. . . No one knows what this has to do with the case, but hell, she's Evi Quaid: she tried to use her husband's Golden Globe as a witness in their last trial. Fruity Loops man.

"Well if that aint the dumbest thing I ever heard."  The other boy said  He couldn't help but laugh, and he didn't like laughing much, on account of it sounding so funny.  "There aint no camels in Texas!"

This is true.  Back in the 1850's, they tried to bring camels to Texas, and boy was it a big failure.  You see horses were dying due to dehydration, and mules couldn't quite keep up either, so some smart doucher decided that perhaps camels would be the solution, but alas, they couldn't handle the rocky terrain, so the idea was scrapped.  The only camels in Texas are kept in 'zoo's,' they hardly roam around like feral dogs. . .

"I know it."  The boy laughed.  "But it gets better too.  'Parently my old man used Randy Quaid to attract business!"

The boys laughed.

"Who's Randy Quaid?"  One asked amongst the laughter, which of course only fueled the hilarity.

"'Xactly my point, boys.  If my old man put anything about Randy Quaid coming to this here establishment, the titled read:  SANTA CLAUSE IS COMIN' TO TOWN!"

Even more laughter.

"No, but seriously, who's Randy Quaid?"  The curious boy still pondered.

"Oh you ninnie, he aint nobody.  Nobody.  His old lady too.  Theys both nobodies.  But they surely do think they's somebody.  Like a Bawnie or a Clyyyde.  Little lady left some note in their room too, reads like some sort of a calling."

"A calling, like with the phone?"  One boy asked.

"No, like an emm-ohh.  I hear all the good robbers do it.  Listen here to this."  And he read it.

The Ballad of Evi and Randy

We came for the sun,

We came together,

We came not on the run,

For things to get much better,

Our fingers have told our tale,

Leaving very little up to guess,

How we did fail,

We really didn't, but regardless,

Father time came back again

And so we've built up a bill

And though we haven't got a friend

We've still got our pills

The gold man has seen it all

Just like the last season

But this time he will heed the call

And tell all of our reason

The boy folded it up with precision and put it in his pocket.

"Aint that somethin'?"  He asked.

"Yeah."  

"You ever heard a song like that?"

"Maybe from a dying bird."  One boy said.

"Hah, it aint nooo song.  It's a po-em, you dummies."

"That aint no poem.  I know a better one."

There's a place in France,

Where the naked ladies dance,

There's a hole in the wall so the boys can see it all,

But the girls don't care, they wear their underwear

Randy and Evi Quaid have simply lost it, their actions alone in their last court case were enough evidence to that very fact.  Yet somehow, the court didn't seem to acknowledge any of their antics.  Celebrity status has saved them from the ax of justice, but like so many other celebrities given the opportunity to redeem themselves, they've fucked that all up too. They've up and done exactly the same sort of thing they did in California, almost as if they were rockstars with a fondness for destroying hotel rooms.  They ran up and bill and made it quite clear to everyone at the hotel that Evi and Rany Quaid were in deed, in the building, and as a result made sure that they were treated like real stars.

So they were.  Room service the whole damn way, regardless of how strange the requests were.

And when things went sour and Evi 'failed' to pay the bill, they decided it was best to make it seem as if the hotel was ever so eager to have them both there, (because everyone wants a second-rate actor with a history of ripping off hotels visiting their establishments) that there would be no way that they could possibly be to blame for anything that happened. . .

YES... WE SERVE THIEVES, COME ON BY!

It isn't even like they were copping bars of soap and mini shampoos, or raiding the mini fridge to drink all the clear liquors so that they may replace them with simple tap water.  Nah, it aint anything like that.

Its a shit load of money, much as the case with the California hotel.  

They are certainly in need of real help.

It is in light of this new information, that iR strongly stands by its previous diagnosis of the Quaid's retardation.  iR again, declares Randy and Evi Quaid, regally retarded.

What happens next, only the courts can decide. . .

love,

iR