Little Left Handed Pilgrim

Just spreading out some ideas that've been going around my head for the past month.

"Don't you just hate that smell, Jonah?" John asked, sipping from a hot glass of suds.
Jonah looked at his fingernails and sniffed the air. "I don't smell anything."
John spun around in his pastel Milanese barstool. Jonah shook his head at the very gesture. "I don't like that barstool of yours, John. It makes me feel like throwing up, just looking at it."
John laughed, menacingly, "You're a sick boy, Jonah. Throwing up may serve you well." John smiled, and pointed to the floor in front of Jonah. Jonah looked back, awestruck.
"You would let me do that? Wait, what smell, though?" Jonah asked.
John sucked his teeth and frowned. "I don't know." A tear fell from his eye and Jonah produced a handkerchief from his breastpocket. "No," John assured Jonah, "it's fine." John sipped a sip from the soap in his glass. When he pulled the glass down for air, he hissed. "Mount up, Jonah, we're going to the city."
Jonah nodded obediently and grabbed the synthesizers and threw them over his back.

John led three sheep out of the sheep garage and pumped his fist stabbingly into the air, cursing rapidly in euphoria.
Jonah made eye contact with him and John stopped fist pumping. Jonah squinted. "There was a movie about a cat burglar and the cat burglar was on the prowl in a city. A cat heard about it and got scared. He ended up catching the cat burglar in the end. I saw this movie in music class, around 1st grade. Would you happen to know what happened to it?" Jonah rested his hand on his pocket.
John threw his shoulders back in a rowing motion, "Let's hit the rewind button and watch that instant replay, Jonah," he annunciated his J in a hostile manner," is that a threat?"
Jonah shook his head, and raised his hand off of his pocket. They mounted their sheep and rode to town, without exchanging anymore words.

In the town of Monitor Lizard Town, there resides a pool hall. All the fresh veggies and cool green onions go on down there with rhythm in their steps, clacking on the sand. They've got there carrots in a smoothie and a pet hermit crab at home. They're all ready for the lobster cooking action downtown, at the pool hall. John and Jonah happened to pass this pool hall on their way to the supermarket. This pool hall had no impact on John or Jonah, and as a result is of no consequence.

The two groovy cowboys popped their sheep into the parking lot grave plots and dropped four quarters into the twin parking space, just long enough to ward off burglars (cat or mouse) that happened to slap their bass basket bicycle onto the premises of this Walgreens superstore. John and Jonah looked at each other, their hostilities eased by the wool on their calves, and proceeded into the supermarket Walgreens. There were two green men guarding the doors. "Don't worry, Jonah, I've got this." John said.

They approached the two green men at the door and smiled. The automatic door opened and they stepped into the Walgreens.

John yelled in a playful manner, "Where can a guy get the schematics of a Rainforest Cafe automaton around here?" The Walgreens went silent. Jonah was concerned.
"Was that a secret password or something?" Jonah whispered to John.
John motioned for Jonah to come to him. Jonah came over to John.
All patrons of the Walgreens were looking at John with crowbar eyes to finish his question. "Quick, before their eyebrows fall off, hand me a bucket."

Jonah ran to the flip-flop section of the supermarket. He slid underneath the soda section and into the bucket aisle. He made sure not to run into any appliances on his way to the bucket. Once he had picked out the right style and size of the bucket, he planned his next move. Jonah ran down aisle back to the central section of the Walgreens where John resided. John didn't have skin, anymore. "John, you don't have skin anymore."
"It was weighing me down, I gave it to one of the patrons for a cold stack of million dollar bills- twenty, actually it was free. Pull me a synthesizer out of one of those buckets, would you?"
Jonah thought fast, "Why did we bring our own, then?"
John was obviously exasperated, although he was missing his eyebrows and skin. He threw up his hands and equipped a rather condescending tone with Jonah. "Goddamn, I don't know Jonah, maybe because we don't have enough money for arthritis medication? Maybe because our sheep, who have arthritis, like the feeling of jams on their back? Did you ever think ab- just get the f*****g synthesizers out of that bucket before their eyebrows fall off, Jonah."
Jonah pulled out a synthesizer from the bucket. "May I get one?" he asked.
John closed his eyes and calmed down. He opened his eyes and looked at Jonah and smiled genuinely. "Yeah."
Jonah smiled back and pulled an electric razor from the bucket. He looked down in shock and then to John, eyes concerningly large with undergraduate disbelief. "You want me to shave my head, John?" Jonah asked, offended.
Thunder clapped and all the patrons looked out of one of the many windows in the fine Walgreens establishment. Meanwhile, John nodded and shrugged his shoulders.
"For the kids."
Jonah exhaled and closed his eyes. He put down the bucket and shaved his already short hair. He was turning greener with every stroke. Once he was bald, he was full cucumber. He looked to John, who was a ripe red tomato. Jonah sighed and finally settled on a frown. "John, that barstool has changed you. The power has driven you mad."
John looked down at the floor in front of him in deep thought. "I'm...a total dick."
Jonah nodded.
John looked to the sky, nodding, and prayed for wind.