squirrels in a hearse

Yesterday myself and Sam took a bus out of San Jose into the foothills of the mountains which surround the city. American cities are always fascinating out of the downtown area, which for all their size and width of road, are broadly comparable to UK city centres. Not the suburbs, however, which feel profoundly different, locked with out-of-town chiropractors with gaudy signs, lot after lot of car dealerships, and gas stations with names like 'Rotten Robbie'. Riding through a local college, we were delighted by the boarding of a gaggle of outsize Californian teenage boys, drawling loudly and talking in a way which reminded me of that phrase, "two nations divided by a common language".

One kid, Spanish-American, but dressed all in black with a white crucifix hanging over his shirt, leaned over to his peer and slowly intoned the following.

"Squirrels in a hearse".

His friend turned to the louder of the three boys.

"Dude, he just said 'squirrels in a hearse'!"

The other friend shook his head. "Man, I'm not even surprised that he would... that he would... I'm not even surprised... that he would say that".

The other friend shook his head and turned to the original interlocutor. "Dude, you are not funny, you know? You know that?".

Myself and Sam, surprised by this turn of conversation, stifled bewildered laughs behind our hands.

There was a long pause. The louder of the three, apparently addressing the entire bus, announced.

"Do you... do you, er... do you know what happened on this day in 1945? One of the world's... the worlds' most.... insane men committed suicide. On this day".

Everyone looked up.

"Adolf Hitler", he announced, nodding wisely, and stressing the A.