“Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m a man–”
I’m TotD! How are you?
“–of wealth and…could you not interrupt me, please?”
Gosh, I’m sorry. You had a whole thing you were gonna say, didn’t you?
“Yeah. There’s a rhythm to it.”
So sorry. So, so sorry.
“May I continue?”
Go to it. Again: I apologize.
“Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m man of wealth and taste.”
Guy Fieri?
“I’ve been around…what?”
Are you Guy Fieri?
“Guy Fieri just has wealth.”
The taste is in the donkey sauce.
“I’m not Guy Fieri.”
I interrupted you again.
“You did. You absolutely did.”
Sorry. Again: I am sorry.
“I’ve been around for a long, long year. Stole many a man’s soul to waste.”
You still sound a lot like Guy Fieri.
“Guy Fieri doesn’t steal souls!”
He steals hearts.
“Hearts are not souls!”
They’re comparable.
“They’re not! Shut up and listen to me!”
Dude. We are not close enough for you to take that tone. I mean, I don’t even know your name yet.
“I’m trying to tell you my name.”
I’ll be quiet. Do your thing, man.
“Thank you. I was ’round when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain. Made damn sure–”
Did you help Him?
“–that Pilate washed…what?”
Did you help Jesus?
“No. I was there. I was there.”
And you didn’t help? I once held up traffic on the New Jersey Parkway to rescue a turtle; you didn’t give the Son of God a helping hand?
“That’s not why I was there.”
We all make choices, muchacho.
“Do not call me ‘muchacho.'”
No one likes being called that.
“I’m gonna continue.”
Hope so.
“Pleased to meet you. Hope you guessed my name.”
I did. I guessed you were Guy Fieri and you got mad.
“I’m not Guy fucking Fieri.”
You should be so lucky! That man has raised millions for charity.
“I think what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game.”
Mah Jongg?
“I stuck around Saint…what?”
Is your game Mah Jongg?
“No.”
People think it’s for old ladies, but it’s a hoot. You can get some big money games going.
“Mah Jongg is not my game.”
Very fun.
“I was in the middle of a statement.”
Go to it.
“I stuck around St. Petersburg when I saw it was–”
Florida?
“–time for a change. What?”
St. Petersburg, Florida?
“Russia.”
You should have been more specific.
“If you hadn’t interrupted me, the next thing I was about to say would’ve clarified my position.”
Wow. What a rude guy I am. Sorry, my dude.
“I killed the Czar and his ministers. Anastasia screamed in rage.”
Oh, yeah. That’s Russia. There are few to no czars in Florida.
“Context is important.”
Wait. Are you the Devil?
“I have, like, four more verses to get through.”
Unnecessary! I figured it out! You’re the Devil.
“Yes, okay, I’m the Devil. But I have some real deep shit to say about humanity, and its nature.”
I’ll bet! You must have some stories, The Devil!
“Your tone of voice is not rubbing me the right way.”
Well, you’re the one who talked shit about Guy Fieri and didn’t help Jesus.
“I’m the Devil!”
How’s that working out for you? You happy?
…
“What?”
Are you happy, The Devil?
“Call me Lou.”
Absolutely not. Listen, man: go back to Hell and think about the kind of Supreme Evil you wanna be.
“Do not speak to me that way.”
I can speak to you any way I want. Because I have…THIS!
AN OVERCONFIDENT IDIOT PRODUCING A CRUCIFIX NOISE
“I’m not a dracula, man.”
This doesn’t work on you?
“No.”
Silver bullet?
…
…
…
“I’m gonna walk away from you and pretend this didn’t happen.”
Bitchin’.
did you really rescue a turtle on the parkway? was there a lot of traffic?
I somehow think that this is the reply of the century.
Roth’sj novels always had some mah jongg action going down for the neighborhood yenta’s, but i digress.
Funny post; and I have I Lucifer by Glenn Duncan waiting on deck.