Guy

###The body was a gelatinous mass stuck to the wall of the walk-in closet. A Motley Crew album cover with white lines of powder waiting to be snorted lay on the floor before it. It all was a stinking mess and the neighbors were noticing something funny. That’s about when the call came.
###Jaybird was dead. The coroner declared it a “death by misadventure.” But was it?
###A few months earlier, Jaybird – the ultimate party animal in his prime – had made some new friends. I didn’t know them, because he was my ex-brother-in-law and we had a falling-out. He broke my sister’s jaw and children’s services had taken my niece into custody for abuse allegations. How he avoided jail is beyond me. He was on my list.
###Jay’s women were dealt a heavy hand and I had heard he was with a new one. A hard one. An alcoholic spit fire felon. Just the thing needed to straighten Jay out – a dose of his own bad medicine.
###In better times, Jay and I did the buddy thing – women, booze, dope, grab ass and one night late he scored some outstanding weed. It stunk to high heaven. Partied-out and wasted he was afraid to drive home with it in his pick-up truck. Cops have a saying, “Out after two, drunk or skunk.”
###So, I loaned him my Marlboro cooler to put it in so the police could not smell it if he was stopped on his way home. The cooler was an airtight squat little red and white keg that looked like the Marlboro Man after his last cancerous puff and the scourge of peripheral arterial disease – meaning no arms and no legs. The ten gallon cowboy hat was replaced with a screw-on lid and just the strap and torso remained. The Marlboro slogan acting as a face center stage like a third eye was vintage. A pop-up snout was imbedded on top like a slicked-down cowlick. One tight lipped little dude. I bought it with cigarette pack coupons. I had traded my health for it!
###Off he went with his booty, happy as a clam.
###The new woman kept Jay to herself and I did not see him for months. There was some talk that he had put her in the hospital.
###Now that he was dead, I decided to drive over to the scene and look around to get some macabre sense of closure. When I got to his apartment complex nook it looked the same, dismal and dark, except for the bright yellow police tape. His black pick-up truck was still in the parking lot and lo there in the bed like a red and white time capsule was the cooler amongst his tools and discarded trash. I grabbed the cooler.
###A couple days later I went to clean it out and unscrewed the lid. Inside was a hand with HATE tattooed across the knuckles. It was preserved nicely – still a little flexible but scabrous. Too bad Jaybird didn’t use the hand with LOVE on it more.
###I threw the cooler in the river and the last I saw it was bobbing merrily along with the current.
###I guess Jaybird met his perfect match.
### I really do miss that cooler. Vintage!