Freewheeling popsicles burned down the MacDonald-Cartier freeway to the Ultimate Bash in Hamilton. Flat out in their four-by-four two door eight litre engine turbo souped up Ladas. Heck on wheels, they were, just good ole country popsicles, K.D. Lang to the max till the bovines came home. The Ultimate Bash promised winter delights on an abundant scale, right out of the ice over rocks. The popsicles, farm dudes of a heroic nature the last bastion of simple living the life and being the entity and thinking the thoughts, now crazed on horseradish liquour, moonshine seeping out of where the sun don't shine, vomiting on the snowmen that littered this part of the highway, brain waves showing total focus on getting to participating in the Ultimate Bash. They got to the bashed up broken down barn where the Ultimate Bash was scheduled. Pickups as far as the eye can see from the church steeple, roadblocks by the rednecks to keep out the uncool fuzz, the kool-aid kid, his ninja techniques fatal to the popsicles. The band was "Johann and the rootin', tootin' funky down home boys", heck on the stage they were with the electric twang of their amped till it hurts Les Paul banjos. The chicks would be swinging showing their sticks, but the sheep would be locked up. Only the cool of the cool, royalty of the backroads would be allowed access to the stables tonight. The Ultimate Bash was ready to explode into a frenzy of good ole times, just them fine christian popsicles ready to party till they melted. Then a scream arose. Johnny-Pop Toemilker from Aurora came in yelling that the outlaws were here. Them outlaws, it was said, were the meanest, toughest gang of joes to ever escape from a dicky dee truck, it was said it was. They rolled in on their air conditioned super charged death tractors. They started shooting up the local folk, and many a good ole hunk of frozen fruity-tasting liquid was blown about that barn. The outlaws rounded up the chicks, kicked around the band, and were just about to leave, when Fredrico Icedpee walked in. Silence fell like snow cause everyone knew that Freddy was the cowbloke with the most. He left a trail of law and order where ever he went. The outlaws fell back a few steps, but then the leader said hey, we got no quarrel with you Freddy. so just back off cause yer outnumerated. Well Freddy just stood there, didn't budge an inch. Then the leader of the outlaws drew his shot pistol, but never got his finger on the trigger. Freddy blew a hole through him big enough for a horse to gallop through. Then he turned to the outlaws, who scattered into the woods. Everyone cheered and the Ultimate Bash continued long into the weekend, and them freewheeling popsicles had a story to tell for years to come.