THE CURIOUS CASE OF MR. ADZHOLE SILLYPEDER
Y’al, this be Ol’ Wanda Lust, crack ‘ho. You aint heard from me in long a time. I been trickin’ and do’in my thang wid’ the mens. I done dressed up like a Nazi Commando and beat this guy’s ass wid’ a cat o’ nine tails. It were a tad bit ironic in the fact that Hitler aint have no real love fo’ blacks. Whatevah. Then I go wid this other freak name oF Roy, a big fat red neck and he got the Henry VIII thang where he cook food like roast beef, peas, and mashed taters and eat it off my body, and I got to act real mean and I sez, “You aint no king, You aint no king,” and he bawl his eyes out and say, “I am, too, bitch.” People be strange I tell ya. I be glad my hubby, Ol’ Fat Harold, aint no weirder than he is.
So Auntie Carol and Lady Lynda Got this Peppermint Love Agency and they helps all the po’ unfortunates and they wants me to help raise money fo’ the po’ people whut aint got no roof over they heads, food to eat, families evicted from they homes and crippled shut ins. They gets they clients from welfare. Some be mentally or physically handicapped sometimes. You know people whut think they got God and his holy angels singin’ in they left sneaker. They even got a full fancy kitchen where they feeds three meals to anyone who come in. They go glad handing all over the city and they got this one weirdo they ‘fraid to see but he Howard Hughes Kind of rich. They heard he was half spider or some shit. Gurl, I seen stranger thangs b’lieve me. Supposedly this guy got some kind of serious defect but he rich as Croesus.
So I goes to his high rise townhouse on Rittenhouse Square, and I be all dressed in my black leather jump suit to look professional. This Voo Doo type bitch answer the do’ and she act like I trash and I pushes past her like Dame Astor, thank ya very much. I don’t have no truck wid’ uppity bitches whut look like they got out of a open grave. Fuckit, I aint take no dissing from the help. Then I see him all dressed in a black three peace suit like some damn old black beetle. And he got six arms and they all do’in somethin’ different, Lord Mercy! And he said in this real scratchy voice, “No, I am not Vishnu,” and he crack hisself up. He git’ in a real fit of cackles. Now, I knows Vishnu is an Indian God and this man kind of a Capucchino color like an Indian. I knowed he wasn’t no white man and got an accent like Peter Sellers when he did his Indian comedy. I notice he got sharp pointy teeth covered with spider web and I looks around and sees he got spider web all over and books piled on top of books. And his fingernails all long and black as outer space and it were’nt painted on. He git’ up and push some books on the flo’ so’s I can sit down. I see one book which say “Arachnaphobia.” Phobia mean fear, I know that.
Sit here, Miss, You may call me Adzhole: As you already know my last name is Sillypeder. I understand you want me to help you with your charity. One of this hands was drumming on the couch while another while another tried to straighten his long tangled black hair. With a third he offered me some chocolate bon bons. “Take only two as I may have occasion to offer them again as I get a lot of visitors.”
I got real bold and asked if he was expectin’ someone else. He raised all his hands in the air and waved “No, no”. Shit, aint nobody come to see this man. I knowed it.
“No, but you can never tell, can you. After all you’re here aren’t you?” he queried giving me the most goofy smile I ever seen. He look like one of those yellow smiley faces or that Koolaid character, “goofy grape”.
I cuts sto the chase, “Given your vast fortune, we were thinking about one mil? What you say Mistah Adzhol?”
“I was thinking on $500,” he said handing me a wedge of tangerine and not the full fruit.”It’s always best to take less, for a balanced life. I live very simply, my Dear. And here’s a half bran muffin. We wouldn’t want to spoil that luscious figure, would we?”
I said, “You mean half a mil? We can work with that.”
“No” he replied, “ I was thinking maybe five hundred dollars. Money doesn’t grow on trees, young lady.”
“Mistah Adshol, “ That wouldn’t run the center for even one day. You sho’ could give a bit more, Pretty please wid’ cherries on it. Folks is sufferin’”
“Well, I think that is fair and sufficient. I live life very simply as you can see and one should conserve one’s resources as one can never predict when one may fall on hard times. Money is the root of all evil,” he retorted.
“ We know your estate is worth several billion. We know people in a real bad fix these days. Some aint even got a roof ovah they heads.”
“It’s because they didn’t manage their expenditures wisely. They lived over their means and I do not approve of dunderheads. Their life styles were too extravagant. I live life very simply.”
“Evah heah, the Auntie Mame quote, “Life is a banquet and most poor bastards are starving,” I said.
At that moment a tarantula alight on his shoulder and he proceed actin’ all normal like it aint no thang. I just had to tell him to git it off befo’ he git bit.
He smile and say it okay as it was jes’ “Ron”, a distant relative of his and he give me this dang ol’ creepy smile and I reminded of flies trapped in a spider web and I goes to check in my bag that I still got the straight edge. Then I perceives his eyes is glimmering with delight and he aint gone harm me none. He jes’ real lonely and starvin’ for attention.
Then I says, Lissen’ Mistah Adzhole, how bout’ we jes’ agree on 300,000 dollars and I come three times and git’ one hunnert thousand each time. It gone be a big tax break for you givin’ to charity. I spec’ I come back mo’ often jes’ to chew the fat wid’ ya. How ya like that?”
All his arms flews up in the air and he cackled. It was creepy really but in some weird way kinda charmin’ in a Peter Lorre kinda way. Wanda Lust, social worker. I do like that.
CAROL ANN writer of Poems of Thunder @ amazon.com & BN.com
see video http://youtube.com/user/carolbond007