the fatman shambles into the living room and heads towards the computer. i, sitting in the chair he has rolled up to the computer's desk, swivel around to face him. I stare at him through my monocle.
me: are you worried about your percents?
fatman: are you wearing an armani suit with a hugo boss tie?
i jerk a thumb at the computer's monitor. all day i have been observing the NASDAQ.
fatman: why aren't you wearing any pants?
me: you sure be very worried about your percents. barrier boulevard is like a mighty rollamacoaster...very unpredictable.
fatman: barrier boulevard? do you mean wall street?
me: pay attention fatman! we are teetering on the verge of a repression! i have an idea on how to protect our percents...
fatman: oscar you do realize that the I.R.S will send you, because you are a former secret agent, to the supermax if you don't report your stock earnings.
i stroke my chin. i hop off the chair and pace and mutter under my breaf.
me: oh yeah, yeah...the ERS...
fatman: you know what happens to you in the supermax, don't you?
THEY RAPE ON FOLKS!
I gasp.
me: the ERS would send me to the supermax! that's where they keep the klaus kinski!
fatman: that's right, they have the unabomber imprisoned there. tell you what; you don't tell my wife about my stash of Cambodian ladyboy porn and i won't tell the I.R.S that you hide your percents.
he holds out his hand. i got no choice but to shake it.
me: deal.
O - out
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
breakfast of champions
i shuffle into the bedroom wearing my bathrobe, pink fuzzy slippers, and my hairnet. i bang my empty tin coffee cup against the door until the fatman wakes.
fatman: go back to sleep, oscar. it's 6 in the morning.
me: i wants nuts in my coffee.
fatman: you lazy obese bastard. go back to sleep.
at this point the fatman has forced me to annunciate each word.
me: i said i... want. nuts... in. my coffee.
the lady: he says he wants hazelnut coffee.
i light up a cigarette and blow smoke at the fatman.
fatman: the hell?
the lady: oscar, we told you not to smoke in the house.
me: et tu, ms the lady?
she hides under the covers.
the lady: oh for the love of Jesus! just get out of bed and pour him his goddamn coffee!
me and the fatman shuffle into the kitchen and he proceeds to brew my coffee.
i use the tip of my smoldering cigarette to light up yet another.
me: you cause me lots of frustion, fatman.
fatman: frustion?
me: that's what i said, ain't it?!
fatman: that's not even a word.
me: no?
fatman: no.
me: you can look it up in arnold drummond's thesaurus ifffin' you don't believe me, fatman.
fatman ponders the science i have unleashed. he pours my cup of coffee.
fatman: i think you mean webster's dictionary.
me: fatman, you lose IQ points every time you take dump.
i pull a silver flask from out of my bathrobe, pop the top, and pour an ounce of whiskey into the cup of coffee. i shuffle away.
O - out
fatman: go back to sleep, oscar. it's 6 in the morning.
me: i wants nuts in my coffee.
fatman: you lazy obese bastard. go back to sleep.
at this point the fatman has forced me to annunciate each word.
me: i said i... want. nuts... in. my coffee.
the lady: he says he wants hazelnut coffee.
i light up a cigarette and blow smoke at the fatman.
fatman: the hell?
the lady: oscar, we told you not to smoke in the house.
me: et tu, ms the lady?
she hides under the covers.
the lady: oh for the love of Jesus! just get out of bed and pour him his goddamn coffee!
me and the fatman shuffle into the kitchen and he proceeds to brew my coffee.
i use the tip of my smoldering cigarette to light up yet another.
me: you cause me lots of frustion, fatman.
fatman: frustion?
me: that's what i said, ain't it?!
fatman: that's not even a word.
me: no?
fatman: no.
me: you can look it up in arnold drummond's thesaurus ifffin' you don't believe me, fatman.
fatman ponders the science i have unleashed. he pours my cup of coffee.
fatman: i think you mean webster's dictionary.
me: fatman, you lose IQ points every time you take dump.
i pull a silver flask from out of my bathrobe, pop the top, and pour an ounce of whiskey into the cup of coffee. i shuffle away.
O - out
Saturday, February 9, 2008
larry storch
i bolt out of the bedroom and runs for the kitchen. my eyes are wide and my heart is pounding.
the fatman (wearing his tighty whities) hurries out of the bedroom and attempts to comfort me.
fatman: oscar, i know you might be frightened by what you saw in the bedroom...
he uses his tone that he normally reserves for the dogs. i ain't cool.
fatman: ...but what you saw me doing to her is completely natural.
he has the audacity to pat me on the head.
fatman: oscar? you do know where babies come from, don't you?
me: yeah. the larry storch brings 'em.
for a brief moment the fatman is befuddled.
fatman: the who does what?
me: yeah! every hanukkah the larry storch flies from the north pole -
fatman: oh boy.
me: and flies down the chimney and leaves a gonad wrapped in swaddling clothes under the mistletoe. and that's where babies come from!
fatman: uh...that's right, oscar.
he stands up and yawns.
me: what does that have to do with what you were doing to the lady?
fatman: nothing. nothing at all. i'm going to sleep now, tubby.
me: what were you doing on top and behind the lady, you fat bastard?
fatman: i was giving her the Heimlich maneuver.
me: why come?
fatman: to save her life.
me: would you ever give me the Heimlich maneuver?
fatman: not the way i gave it to her.
me: say what?
he pats me on the head again, fills my pipe with nip, and returns to the bedroom.
i light my pipe and inhale the nip and ALAKAZAM! I'm out like a light!
out of the blue and into the black!
O - out
the fatman (wearing his tighty whities) hurries out of the bedroom and attempts to comfort me.
fatman: oscar, i know you might be frightened by what you saw in the bedroom...
he uses his tone that he normally reserves for the dogs. i ain't cool.
fatman: ...but what you saw me doing to her is completely natural.
he has the audacity to pat me on the head.
fatman: oscar? you do know where babies come from, don't you?
me: yeah. the larry storch brings 'em.
for a brief moment the fatman is befuddled.
fatman: the who does what?
me: yeah! every hanukkah the larry storch flies from the north pole -
fatman: oh boy.
me: and flies down the chimney and leaves a gonad wrapped in swaddling clothes under the mistletoe. and that's where babies come from!
fatman: uh...that's right, oscar.
he stands up and yawns.
me: what does that have to do with what you were doing to the lady?
fatman: nothing. nothing at all. i'm going to sleep now, tubby.
me: what were you doing on top and behind the lady, you fat bastard?
fatman: i was giving her the Heimlich maneuver.
me: why come?
fatman: to save her life.
me: would you ever give me the Heimlich maneuver?
fatman: not the way i gave it to her.
me: say what?
he pats me on the head again, fills my pipe with nip, and returns to the bedroom.
i light my pipe and inhale the nip and ALAKAZAM! I'm out like a light!
out of the blue and into the black!
O - out
Thursday, February 7, 2008
enter the fatman
The Fatman shambles into the kitchen for his morning coffee. He doesn't notice that I am dressed in my latest disguise. He pours himself a cup (warm and black the way i likes my women) and turns his back to me. He takes a sip, looks over my way, and spits the coffee in surprise.
Fatman: Why are you dressed like a Rabbi?
Me: I am in cognegroe!
Fatman: What?
Me: I gots to disguise myself, Fatman. I am constantly hunted by the Kee Yah. Ever since I retired from -
Fatman: The who?
Me: The Kee Yah! Do I have to spell everything out for you, Fatman? The C.I.A!
Fatman: The C.I.A? When did you work for the C.I.A?
Me: After I graduated from Harvard.
Fatman: You went to Harvard? Let me see your diploma!
Me: Let me see your diploma!
Fatman: You don't make any sense!
Me: You don't make any sense!
The Lady walks in, interrupting us in order to pour herself coffee. Fatman points at me and chortles.
Fatman: Honey, did you know Oscar worked for the C.I.A?
The Lady: Of course. Right after he graduated from Harvard.
Fatman takes his cup of coffee and storms out of the kitchen.
The Lady: Hey, you know what they say... See a broad, to get that booty yak 'em!
Me: Leg 'er down 'n smack 'em yak 'em.
The Lady: Cold got to be. You know? Shiiiiit.
We laugh. She leaves for work. I love the Lady.
O -out
Fatman: Why are you dressed like a Rabbi?
Me: I am in cognegroe!
Fatman: What?
Me: I gots to disguise myself, Fatman. I am constantly hunted by the Kee Yah. Ever since I retired from -
Fatman: The who?
Me: The Kee Yah! Do I have to spell everything out for you, Fatman? The C.I.A!
Fatman: The C.I.A? When did you work for the C.I.A?
Me: After I graduated from Harvard.
Fatman: You went to Harvard? Let me see your diploma!
Me: Let me see your diploma!
Fatman: You don't make any sense!
Me: You don't make any sense!
The Lady walks in, interrupting us in order to pour herself coffee. Fatman points at me and chortles.
Fatman: Honey, did you know Oscar worked for the C.I.A?
The Lady: Of course. Right after he graduated from Harvard.
Fatman takes his cup of coffee and storms out of the kitchen.
The Lady: Hey, you know what they say... See a broad, to get that booty yak 'em!
Me: Leg 'er down 'n smack 'em yak 'em.
The Lady: Cold got to be. You know? Shiiiiit.
We laugh. She leaves for work. I love the Lady.
O -out
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
oi!
i read a bedtime story to the fatman and his dogs tonight.
me : ahem.
i cleared my throat and opened up a book.
fatman: why are you wearing a night cap?
me: cuz i'm a gonna read you and yo' dogs a bed time story! fatman!
fatman: why aren't you wearing any pants?
me: once upon a time ago there was a cat named oscar who lived with a lady named ms. the lady. and oscar and ms. the lady lived happily ever after cuz they didn't live with no fatman or no dogs. the end. good night!
i close the book and proceed to snore.
fatman: is that it? a bed time story? its 2 o'clock in the afternoon!
fatman ain't familiar with cat naps.
O -out
me : ahem.
i cleared my throat and opened up a book.
fatman: why are you wearing a night cap?
me: cuz i'm a gonna read you and yo' dogs a bed time story! fatman!
fatman: why aren't you wearing any pants?
me: once upon a time ago there was a cat named oscar who lived with a lady named ms. the lady. and oscar and ms. the lady lived happily ever after cuz they didn't live with no fatman or no dogs. the end. good night!
i close the book and proceed to snore.
fatman: is that it? a bed time story? its 2 o'clock in the afternoon!
fatman ain't familiar with cat naps.
O -out
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