Help Me Jack Pepsi!

So for the past week I have been driving around with a HUGE bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor of my passenger side.  I meant to return it to my brother but forgot (along with a half a box of Fruity Pebbles).  

Today, I fished Tad's "8-Way Santa" out of the shoebox of cassettes sitting on the passenger seat (another story).  On the way home from work I played "Jack Pepsi." 

This is a song that sticks with you.  Both because of the vivid imagery and Tad Doyle's plaintive blood curdling howl.

I used to scream "Help Me, Jack Pepsi!  Help Me, Jack Pepsi!" back in college whenever me and the crew were about to embark on some risky behavior.  It seemed as good a prayer as any. 

I remember that the booklet for the album had a comic strip by Peter Bagge.  It was my introduction to his art. 

  

The song is pretty grim to be sure, but you gotta remember that it is being told in the past tense so somehow the narrator (and hopefully his buddy Jack Helton from Nampa, Idaho) survived right?  

How did they pull through? We are not told.  But it had to have been nothing short of miraculous.  

I did some research on the Patron Saint of Drunks and there are at least seven possibilities.  So again, pleading to Jack Pepsi makes about as much sense as anything.