LI
No Brains,
NO HеAdACHE.
C:
כם.
.00
UNDER
CONSTRUCTION
PLEASE
DO NOT ENTER
"Tickets...tickets please," called
out the new conductor sharply as
he entered the car.
The early morning commuter crowd
began accessing their pockets and
wallets. The conductor moved along
the car punching tickets. He came to
the far end where a dumpy young
Iman sat hunched in his seat while
staring blankly out the window, obliv-
ious to the call.
"Ticket," repeated the conductor
impatiently. It was his first day, this
was the first train, and he was pretty
nervous-then this idiot was too
brain-dead to pay attention and give
up his ticket. The conductor tried to
step up the pace with a. "Hey!" and a
little kick to the skateboard that lay
upside down under the guy's feet.
Some of the commuters shot quick
glances to see if there was any trouble.
The young man looked up, but the
blank stare never changed. The con-
ductor quickly changed his tone. "Oh,
uh, did you buy a ticket before you got
on the train, sir?"
"Mrs. Grey bought train ticket,"
answered the young man in a slow,
guttural voice, and then his fat-fin-
gered hand brought the ticket out of
his jacket pocket.
"OK, great," chimed the conductor.
He kept smiling and trying to appear
casual and friendly while punching
the proper holes in the ticket. It waś
CLOCKWISE FROM ABOVE:
Myles Smythe retards UC
Berkeley's efforts to keep their
RSF building's ce-mental blocks
looking clean and smart with this
switch backside tailslide.
Bam (Bam) Margera manhandles
this brontosaurus-flip into a
slanted stone monolith without a
second thought.
Big bad Bart is too boneheaded
to worry about putting on a
hardhat for this dangerous, con-
struction-zone ollie off the ledge,
over the sign, and into the street.
train policy to "treat passengers with kindness and respect at all times," and get-
ting caught kicking at someone, especially at a retard, was not gonna be good. He
finished up as fast as he could, and said, "All right, have a good one," and made
for the next car. He was relieved when he looked around and no one seemed to
be looking back.
"Last stop. End of the line," spoke the intercom. Freddy knew that meant it was
time to get off. He plodded behind the big rush of commuters until he was clear of
the station. Then he threw his board down and started pushing down the sidewalk.
Freddy loved Wednesdays. Every Wednesday he left the home and took the
65