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| Bedtime Stories with Narcolepsy | Started by: Narcolepsy on Jan 15, '09 14:34 |
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Gather 'round, children. It's time for a bedtime story with your Uncky Narcolepsy. What's that? Not your bedtime? Son, it's always time to sleep when you're with me. So shut the hell up, listen, and be damned appreciative. When I was your age, we didn't have people trying to "entertain" us. You know what we had? Dirt. And we liked it that way. We'd run around, rolling in the dirt, throwing dirt in the air, listening to dirt and watching it. That was our entertainment. So, if I hear any complaints... dirt for you. Now, where was I? Oh yeah... I was sitting in my office in MFer's building downtown, eating breakfast and drinking what I thought might be the worst cup of coffee to ever exist. The coffee tasted like shit, the eggs were overcooked, the toast was burned, and the bacon was way too crispy. I began to wonder why MFer hired the broad that was my secretary, but then she walked into the room and I remembered. One look at her figure and a man could forget just about anything. She bent over to get a file and I took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. I looked at her bending over, looked at the coffee, looked at her bending over, looked at the coffee, and decided just to drink the coffee. I reminded myself to commend MFer on his choice of office girls. A moment later, she hit the intercom. "Someone here to see you, sir." "Send 'em in," I replied. Before I go further, I think it's important to describe what I did for the MFer organization. Somehow I had been elected president of the Vegas Worker's Union, which was obviously under MFer's control. Although you couldn't prove it in court. On occasion, union members had problems, I helped sort them out. I knew that there was going to be trouble when my office door opened and I saw her. That is, I knew she was going to have trouble getting through the door. The fat lady turned sideways and squeezed through the door with an audible 'pop'. The room became smaller as she waddled into the light. I saw her face and, although feminine, her chin was covered with a beard that would have made Abe Lincoln jealous. I started to offer her a chair, thought better of it, and got straight to the point. "Who are you?" I asked, rather bluntly. "I'm the bearded lady. Who are you, one of the freaks?" Her voice was as deep as any man's voice which was quite possibly as disturbing as anything else. "They call me Narcolepsy around here. Don't ask me to explain. What do you want, anyway?" "I want my husband back. We work for the Pezzavante Circus Company. He's a contortionist." "I bet he is," I mumbled. Great. They worked for Pezz's circus. Hell, at least they weren't clowns. I hate clowns. She continued. "He's been taken by the Lugosi's. He lost some money to them in a poker game. They came and got him yesterday." The Lugosi's. Fucking Romanian mob. How the hell those bastards ever made it to Vegas I'll never know. Hell, I didn't even know there was a Romanian mob. "They took Stretch and three of the clowns," she said. "Damn it, they took clowns?" She nodded. "If the clowns don't make it back, is it a big deal?" She glared at me, her fat brow sinking over her tiny eyes. I ended up leaving via the fire escape, as she got stuck in the door on the way out. I could hear my secretary franticly calling the fire department. While usually, I make time for the sort of physical comedy that was destined to take place in my office, this time, I had to run. My first stop was Pezz's circus. I would have talked to Pezz himself, but I knew he and MFer would be working on a casino project. So, I got the next best thing: the ringmaster. The ringmaster was a tempermental midget by the name of Panini. I found him eating peanuts near the elephant enclosure. "Sons of bitches took Stretch and the clowns this morning. Bastards! Those mother fuckers took one of our best acts. Those dickheads also gave the strong man a concussion and they killed three of the trained monkeys. Assholes! I swear to god if I ever catch the cocksuckers that did this, I'll gut them like the cunt licking pigshits they are." Such large profanity from such a small man. "Ok..ay. So, do you happen to have any idea how many of them there were, where they might have taken them, you know, information that might actually be useful to me?" "Listen, Sherlock Asshole, I was getting to that. Shut the fuck up and you might actually learn something. They took them all away in a big fucking black fucking hearse. Like that's going to help your stupid ass anyway. Just go find the damn Romanians and get my fucking acts back, dipshit." He walked away as I thought to myself how much I loved my job. Heaven knows there's nothing like getting cursed by a midget. I turned to leave, flipping the latch on the elephant cage as I walked by. If Jumbo there was any sort of self-respecting pachyderm, he'd follow the trail of peanuts right to Captain Shorty the ringmaster. As I drove away, I could hear the yelling of circus folk as they tried to corral the elephant. Romanians. Damn, damn, damn. I checked my shoulder holster as I drove, making sure the pistol was loaded. I had a sawed off little shotgun in the trunk and some rounds for both. The damn Romanians might have an army, they might have spears and pitchforks, you never knew with them. I drove up to the Romanian front, a dry cleaners outfit. I took off my suitcoat, folded it over my arm, concealing the shotgun in my hand. "I'm an idiot," I said out loud. Seriously, I was about to die for a contortionist and a bunch of clowns? MFer would laugh his ass off. Simultaneously, this was the Romanians moving in on our people. Today Pezz's circus, tomorrow the world, right? What the hell. I walked in the front door. "Can we help you sir?" The mustached man sat behind the counter. "Sure you can. I have this coat and it needs to find some people from a circus. Any ideas?" He reached for a gun under the counter but my shotgun spoke first, knocking him back, off the stool. That got their attention. How many Romanian mobsters can you fit into a hearse? Lots. The clowns could take lessons from those guys, because they started pouring out of the woodwork. I was shooting, they were shooting, there was ducking and covering, more shooting, and then we stopped. We stopped because the ground shook. At least, it seemed like the ground shook. But it was actually the building that was shaking. It shook again and a bull elephant rammed through the front wall. I don't know how they say "Oh Shit!" in Romanian, but that's what they were screaming. A few started shooting, then I heard Panini the midget yell something and two tigers lept into the frenzy of dirt, clothes, and bullets. Romanians were screaming, Panini was yelling profanity, and circus folk were everywhere. The strong man was crushing a man with a bear hug. Carnies, wild animals, and Romanians were all over the place. Sort of like MFer's family reunion, I'd guess. In the fracas, I made my way to a back room where the prisoners were. "Stretch, I presume," I said to the tall man. "Only circus folk call me that. My name is Jack Sprat." I wasn't suprised. He was already untying the clowns, which was my cue to exit, quickly. They were free, my work was done, so I went back to my office. I found my secretary cleaning up a mess and a semi-circle cut out of my door frame. She looked at me, we both looked at the hole cut in the wall, and I went into my office for a nap. And that, my friends, is why you never work with circus folk. Now get lost, I need a nap. |
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Listening attentively to the story, MacLeod applauds at the conclusion. A well told and interesting tale, sir. Thank you for sharing it. I've heard those members of the Lugosi operation can be very difficult to deal with. Also, wonderful title. |
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| Reply by: MacLeod at Jan 15, '09 17:28 | |
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Listens to the story aswell well what a well told story i must say. |
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| Reply by: DeathKnight at Jan 15, '09 18:23 | |
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I always knew Pezz was in to bearded females, That dirty swine. Just between me and you, I also heard that Mfer was into Hermathrodytes... Anyhoo thank you for the wonderful story Uncle Narcolepsy She snuggles up into her sleeping bag and slowly drifts off to sleep |
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| Reply by: Acutie at Jan 16, '09 09:06 | |
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| Every man should have a little freak in them. I encourage it among my crew too. | |
| Reply by: Mr_MFer at Jan 16, '09 10:20 | |
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* Laughs and claps loudly* " Usually I do not pay great attention to story tellers on the corner of these streets, but I must say that I enjoyed this well told tale, managed to keep me entertained all the way through, no easy feat my friend!" |
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| Reply by: Tequin at Jan 16, '09 11:26 | |
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