Mr Adzhole Sillypeder “Gits Hitched”
Y’al sometimes you jes’ got to thank the Lord fo’ yo’ good fortune. This be Ol’ Wanda Lust.I done brought two very good people together, Mr. Adzhol Sillupeder and Tilly the Ten Cent Tart. Today, this Satidy, they gone git’ hitched and he gone give our charity a cool million to show his gratitude. That be Lady Lynda and Auntie Carol’s charity fo’ the po’ unfortunates and otherwise fucked over folk. They know they can’t say the whole damn world but they can sho’ save a part of it. They good Christian woman and so is I cuz I aint never cheated no John. When he be wid’ me he gone git’ the works. Ya gots to take pride in yo’ work and I does.
Well, I know Tilly aint fake it fo’ the money: she real sweet on him ‘cuz he the first John who ever love her for herself and not just a piece of tail. I tell ya they both be parched fo’ love and this be just what the doctor ordered. I kinda hates to ponder what they offspring gone look like ‘cuz Tilly want about a dozen children and I sez, “Dang, Tilly, it aint like they a dozen eggs, Gurl, and you twenty-eight, You aint no spring chicken.” Lord knows if you good lookin’ yo’ life can be a cake walk. If you ugly, you damn sure better be rich. I don’ say none o’ this to her though. It aint seemly to hurt nobody’s feelins’. They sho’ aint gittin’ the Gerber Baby.
Well, today, is the day they git’ hitched. Be a big, bright Satidy wid’ blue jays just flappin’ round in the sky. And a real playful wind tryin’ to blow yo’ hat off yo’ head. I loves these March days wid’ the sky all bright and piled up wid’ clouds. They got an Indian minister to marry them as Mr. Adzhol is Indian, and he want the vows in Hindi and Tilly jes’ memorized the words. She want him to feel wunnerful and I believe she did wearin’ that light yella checked sundress with lace. She refuse to wear white. Why start off wid’ a lie she say. I aint no virgin. He don’ care what she wear and he give her a big old diamond ring wit’ yella’ tints. She aint better bitch slap anyone with that big ol’ ring, gone scarify them fo’ sho’. But anyway that never happen: Tilly aint no bitch: she sweet like maple syrup.
Auntie carol and Lady Lynda say they aint bring they men when so many pretty “strumphets”
comin” what wid’ all my ho’ friends. Then there’s The Black Orchid who put any woman to shame. Lady Lynda say “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”
And Auntie Carol say, “A remarkable conclusion Dear. We don’t want to tempt a bull with the red, do we, Dear.”
Lady Lynda and Auntie carol come all dolled up in pastels, pink and mint green suits. They looks like two fresh tulips plucked from the garden and then I mention to ya, those dang white gloves, lookin’ like Mickey Mouse hands. They in a fashion time warp, the fifties I say. Auntie Carol got her red hair all ratted up in a French twist, wid’ a ton of spray on it and Lady Lynda wearin’ a short pixie cut. Look like they spray painted their make-up on but I aint say nothin’ critical. Ya can’t tell nobody nothin’. Specially yo’ friends unless it’s something like, “Say there yo’ ass is on fire.” Mostly I don’ try to change nobody. It’s cuz’ I’m a good friend and a terrible enemy.
Then the ho’s start arriven’ but they dressed in suits and slinky sheaths with the tops cut low but nothin’ like they workin’ clothes. We workin’ gals know when we in the House of the Lord. Mary Magdalene was a whore and I done hear she Jesus’s wife. But that aint fo’ certain. How I gone find out? Read some damn movie magazine. I am strictly against them magazines. Why I want to know what these Hollywood folks is doin”? They aint shit to me.
Bonnie Beauchamp be probably the best lookin’ of all the gals. She git’ the most money. Some John say she look like “The Duchess of Alba”. And I look up the paintin’ and sees what he mean. She got a yella ivory colored skin and her back is curved into her ass like the I-90 freeway. It’s a beautiful long line like one of them ol’ fashioned Greek statues and she got a beautiful ol’ timey face like Audrey Hepburn and fiery almond colored eyes. Mens is always askin’ her to marry them but she sez she rather have a boss fo’ two hours than one fo’ a lifetime. Besides I think she gay. In other words she Meryl Streepin’ it.
At last, The Black Orchid come and there is a hissing like angry cats from the womins or I thinks there was. She pull up in a long black limousine and she have her two pet cats, a cheetah and a panther with rhinestone collars wid’ her. Mr. Adzhol was delighted: it reminded him of India and he go greet her hisself giving one of his hands to help her out of the car. The Ho’s was not all that thrilled but Lady Lynda and Auntie Carol were glad to see her and laughed at the two cats, petting them with their gloved hands. And if I was a man she be the one I choose. So thin, hipbones like a razor, small little peaches of a bust, legs all muscled from running and with heels 6’9’’. Strange beauty, like Italian Vogue, eyes emerald green and the most shapely mouth I ever seen. She look better than all the movie stars past and present. And she smell like dead roses and sex. Aint nobody like the Black Orchid and she aint give a shit that my girls aint like her at all. She jes’ glide on by them like they miserable frogs. She know they hates her. Mr. Adzole be very taken with her but he careful to keep Tilly close so as to not upset her. When the Black Ordhid laugh the crystal glasses kind of vibrate. It really weird like the sound of a lion coughing.
Meanwhile I tell my “girls” to chill and I tells them to flirt with Mr. Adzol and give him the time of his life but don’ let Tilly see it. When she in the other room wid’ Auntie Carol and Lady Lynda, I flirts wid’ him and says that if I aint be wid’ Ol’ Fat Harold, I be sure to choose him. He light up like a 3 way 100 watt light bulb and he gurgle, and smile kinda like “Goofy Grape”, the KoolAid commercial. I kisses him on the cheek when Tilly aint lookin’. If she done see it we gone be like the two Japanese lizards fightin’ to the death. Tilly sweet at heart but very possessive. I jes’ want to cheer up this misbegotten ol’ soul that he was, make this the best day of his life.
Mr. Adzol give up his miserly ways and make a damn good spread. Even if ya hated food you’d eat what he put out. Turkey, pheasant. ham, steaks and twenty vegetable dishes, and cheeses from all over the world and all manner of wines and liquers. The weddin’ cake be twenty tiers high, and all chocolate, even the frosting, Tilly’s favorite. She aint eat any of the main food just gobbling down pieces of the cake, a drinkin’ Champagne.
As day slipped down behind the mountain, The Black Orchid give the last toast.
“When the moon comes up this evening may it caress you with its cold, silvery fingers. May you stay with each other all your days and may you respect and love each other. You are not tabula rosa to be written on. Never write your name on anyone’s heart. The inscription is just too painful and is an act of violence. In the end the only thing you truly possess is your own soul. A person is a gift given to you not a possession. Adieu, mes amis.
I aint understand what she drivin’ at but it sho’ sound good to me. White people is always so confusing. But what the fuck. They all right wid’ me.