31ST BINGO BOY episode 11/30/12

Bingo Boy - post 31

Now the next night, they were back in the bingo hall. It was a real hell hole. You could swim through the smoke.  It stuck to your tongue and made everybody's clothes smell like shit. But the crowd was good...at least eighty people. Not bad for one a the first cold nights a the year. Hot coffee, greasy doughnuts, cigarettes, low stakes gamblin'... man, life is good. Sure, the city has a 'no smoking' law. Everybody knows about that. But come on... Who do you think, outta this crew is gonna complain? Maybe a few don't like it... but they like bingo more. And you know what they say when somebody tells 'em cigarettes cause lung cancer? They say - Eh, who the hell knows? When it's 'your' time, it's 'your' time.......Believe me educated they ain't... Well, maybe one a them is.... Some skinny, school teacher guy. And it didn't do him any good. I'll tell you how it happened....

Uncle Patsy was up there callin' the numbers. Look, he wasn't the only caller, but he was the best. Droned on and on with that low voice. Put 'em to sleep. But that's OK. Better they ain't so alert. Both a the 'bingo slatterns' (carnie for shills) were workin'. Diane, the big one starts yellin'. She goes - BINGO!.... Then she turns to her neighbors and says - I don't know. Somebody up there likes me. This must be my lucky day!...... Right away, Muscles trots over to check her bingo. He picks up a card, looks up at Uncle Patsy, who could play this part in his sleep, and calls out any four number, winning combination from up on the light board.You know you don't need five, 'cause they got a free space. Uncle Patsy makes like he's listening. Then he goes - There's a winner. That's a bingo..... Muscles starts peelin' off ones from his roll, a few fives too. This was a twenty five dollar game. She don't keep it. Marty gets it all back. He gives her a cut. Like twenty percent, I think. Only before they finish and start the next game, the little school-teacher-guy says something. He goes - Excuse me, but why do you always show her wins to the other one, her friend there?Let me see that card...... But Muscles drops it back on the counter real quick and Diane mixes it in with the others, like she's gettin' ready for the new game...... Uncle Patsy goes - Too late. Game closed.... School-teacher-guy goes - You know, nobody wins over eight times a night, like she does. That's a statistical impossibility. And her 'friend' don't do too bad either....... Sure he knows he should a said 'doesn't,' but look, he don't wanna get beat up. As it is, groans rise from the crowd. Some a the viragoes yell things like - Shut the hell up, you Poindexter, pointy-headed bastard you! Come on! Shut him the hell up and play! Drop dead, you ass-hole, you!...... School-teacher-guy holds up a paper, like a little piece ripped from a tablet. And he goes - Yeah, am I? Well, I been keepin' a record. And I'm gonna show it to L & I, or the district attorney's office, or the cops and then we'll see how they like it.......... The viragoes go...( No, maybe this time it was the harridans? Sometimes I lose track) - Shut that bastid the hell up! Throw him out! Get rid of 'im! Yo, Muscles, come on! What's he pay you for?!..... So Muscles trots over and leans over him menacingly.... He goes - Yo, fa++ot, you got a problem?..... The school-teacher-guy goes beet red, grabs his coat and scrams. Must a parked real close by, 'cause he ain't gonna last on those streets more than a minute. And the dumb cows stamp and cheer.....

Marty saw it all through the one-way-mirror. He stood by the glass and watched. Ricky and Little Chrissie were in the back room with him too. Did a lot a work at the counting table and some a the other kids were beginning to notice, but what were they gonna do? The three a them were talkin' when the trouble started. And now they start talkin' again..... Little Chrissie goes - We want a lump-sum payout...... Marty laughs. He goes - Who you been watchin', Kramer? Suze Orman?..... She goes - What the fuck difference does it make to you!? I wanna get on with my life, so pay us!..... But Marty's real cool. Just turns to Ricky and goes - What about you?...... Ricky says - I wanna get on with my life too.......  Marty nods. He don't mean it. But he nods. He says - How much you want?...... Little Chrissie goes - Three hundred thousand dollars....... Marty grins and says -  Are you crazy? Are you fuckin' outta your minds? Where am I gonna get money like that?...... Ricky goes - You can get it..... Marty don't answer, just keeps grinnin'. So Ricky says - We figured it out. The more we saw, the higher it went..... Little Chrissie goes - Yeah, you get two hundred dopes in here every day. They drop like thirty bucks a piece. How much is that, Ricky?.... He goes - Six thousand a day. Thirty thousand a week. One point five mil a year...... Little Chrissie goes - And we help you count it, so we know..... Marty goes - Boy, you kids know a lot. What about expenses? What about taxes?...... Ricky goes - We allowed for that. Come on. We sit here every night and watch. You think we don't know? You keep like seven hundred thousand dollars a year........ Marty blanches....... Ricky adds - And, Marty, our figures are on the low side........ Little Chrissie says - We know you gave half to Jimmy. You always talk like it was two hundred thousand dollars. But it was more than two hundred thousand dollars. It was more like three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And now with him gone, you're gettin' it all. So actually, we're givin' you a break. We don't want half a one year's take. We only want about forty percent....... Marty just looks...... Ricky goes - One time. One payout. That's it. We're gone. It's over. You can't go to the police. We can't go to the police......  Marty says - Lemme alone. Lemme think about it. 

And they sit there, in silence, like statues.....

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30TH BINGO BOY episode 11/29/12

Bingo Boy - post 30

Now sometimes our little family ventures out of their dismal surroundings. They did it on Thanksgiving when they went out for dinner. Today, they took a nice ride up to The Willow Grove Mall, in Montgomery County. And this ain't one a them cheap blue-collar-nirvana, screamin' baby malls either. This one got a Bloomingdales in it and a still thriving Barnes & Noble's too. People actually read around here. They ride up the escalators, calmly holding the handles of their heavyweight, statusy shopping bags. Nobody yells. Nobody cracks gum. They talk quietly to each other. People smile. Nobody reeks of tobacco. 

Little Chrissie and Ricky see it all from their seats in the food court. Baby dumpling is there too. And they look OK. They sort of fit in. She watches Charlie Rose. He still has some half way decent clothes from Target. Nothing wrong with Target, provided you know what you're looking at. And the little guy always looks cute. Some babies are like that, you know. They eat their Wendy's chicken sandwiches and they look. The baby's got a jar of pureed baby chow, so he's OK. Ricky feeds him. He loves feeding him. Look at him lean forward and open his mouth. Just like a little bird. 

Then Little Chrissie goes - I hate my life. Not the baby. Not you. Not my grandmom. But I hate it...... Ricky focuses on the little guy and goes - I know..... She says - Then what are we gonna do about it? Live like this forever? Just grab whatever Marty throws at us? And then we can't even spend it or put it in the bank or anything, because somebody, like the government is gonna want a know. They're gonna want to know where it came from. We're livin' the same way Jimmy lived and I don't like that.......... They lapse into silence. She studies the crowd and adds -  Ricky, do you like being together with me and all?..... Ricky says - Yeah, sure. Of course I do....... Little Chrissie goes - You know, I gave up smokin' all together. Not even three or four times a day, like before. Did you notice?....... He spoons another mouthful into the hungry baby and says - Sure I noticed..... She says - Are you glad? You know, I'm the first non-smoker in my whole family........ He says - Sure I'm glad...... She goes - Why?........ He says - Because your hair don't smell like shit no more....... She gives him a look..... He adds - Come on. You know I care about you.... She smiles from ear to ear. And the baby goes into his clap-clap-clap, ya-ya-ya-ya act.

A well dressed, retired couple at the next table (eating salads, naturally) turns around and tells Ricky how adorable his little 'son' is. He says - Thank you... Wipes the baby's mouth and doesn't miss a beat.

Then they finish up, ditch the trash and happily amble off to go get the little fella  a nice warm winter coat. And you know what? They DO sort a fit in.......

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29TH BINGO BOY episode for 11/28/12

Bingo Boy - post 29

Jimmy and Ricky are sitting down the basement watching cooking shows on TV. The former ensconced in his cell. The later on Marge's wooden folding chair.... Jimmy goes - So what. this is your shift?... Ricky goes - Yeah, it's my shift.... Jimmy thinks for a second, then says - Oh, yeah. I guess it is. I lost track... .... .... And if you look, you'll see that Jimmy's all dressed in regular clothes now. He has on jeans and a chambray work shirt. Looks like a prison uniform, but at least it's somethin'. Marge got it when she ran out to get him the commode.... So they sit there watchin' Martha Stewart whisk egg whites.... Jimmy says - Look how she does that. She Polish girl, almost like Ukrainian. Did I tell you?..... Ricky goes - Uh, yeah...... Jimmy goes - You gone let me go today?.... Ricky says - No, not today..... Jimmy nods and says - Why you not kill me that night in New Jersey? You know what you are?....... Ricky - No....... Jimmy adds - A stupid dope. It would have been so much easier for  you. I would have killed you...... Ricky offers him some cookies in a white box, like you get at a bakery. Jimmy peruses the assortment for a moment, then takes one. He eats it. It's good. Ricky offers another. Jimmy says - This got fatty acids?.... Ricky says - I don't know...... Jimmy gives him a dirty look. Ricky closes the box and puts it on a little table. 

Jimmy nods toward TV screen and goes - Did I tell you she Polish?..... Ricky goes - Yeah, like every day.... Jimmy says - Stir crazy, so go to hell..... Then he adds - We got good food in my part a Ukraine too. Real good food....... Ricky goes - I know. Some a my great grandparents came from there too, you know....... Jimmy says - Yeahhh? What part?....... Ricky goes - Zhitomer, you know it?..... Jimmy goes - Yeahhh..... Ricky says - Ekaterinoslav, you know that place too?..... Jimmy goes - Yeahhh....... Ricky adds - The other two were from some little place. I can't remember the name, but it was just to the west of Kharkiv....... Jimmy goes - 'Kharkiv, Kharkiv' Listen how he say it. Just like a 'Ukie.' Not like a Russian. The right way. The right way............ Ricky retrieves the cookie box and eats one, then goes - Well, what do ya think?..... But Jimmy goes - Yeah, but you not real Ukie. You not Catholic. You not Orthodox. You just a Jew....... Ricky goes - Jimmy..... Jimmy says - What?..... Ricky goes - You really hate us so much?..... Jimmy shrugs and goes - You know how it is. You grow up in place, father hate jew, mother hate jew, cousin hate jew, lady who clean church hate jew, imbecile with funny eye hate jew, whore hate jew....... Ricky goes - Stop counting on your fingers. You're gonna need your toes soon....... They sit in silence, watching Martha complete her sweet confection. Jimmy almost nods off, til  Ricky says - So what? You the only one came over?..... Jimmy says - Only one..... Ricky goes - How come?...... Jimmy goes - Killed, dead. I lived with cousin in city. Real family kaput...... Ricky goes - What, the Nazis?.......Jimmy says - Not Nazis. No Nazis. Stalin. Communist. Russians. See? Nobody tell you that. Do they?..... Ricky says - Then you tell me...... Jimmy goes - Ten years before Germans, fifteen maybe, Stalin want to force Ukrainians into big government farm, like prison camp they were. But people do not want this (Ricky listens), so he torture them. He starve them. He kill them. He burn them.... And my family...... Ricky goes - Yeah?..... Jimmy goes - Dead, Dead.Dead. Dead. Dead...... Ricky says - My father said he used to get letters from his relatives in Ukraine. Not him. My grandfather, actually. Right up until the beginning of World War Two....... Jimmy says - What happen to them? On top of being Jew, I mean?...... Ricky goes - That was enough. Didn't give them any choice. Farm camp, or death? Collaborate, or death? And what are you asking me for? You know... Boy, do you know......... Jimmy looks down at his hands and says - I was six years old then. I was six years old........ They just sit there, as Miss Martha tilts the finished birthday cake toward the camera.....

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28TH BINGO BOY episode for 11/27/12

Bingo Boy - post 28

So they laid in bed and before they fell asleep a fight broke out in the middle of the street. Two neighbors hollerin' over a parkin' space. Thirty seven degrees...a cold, clammy mist... and they're fighting. Real Jerry Springer shit. All 'F' you and 'go to hell' and 'M-F' and 'C-S'er'... Look, excuse all the capital letters. But I am one a them ghost-narrators that wasn't raised that way. If I ever said those words I'd a been a ghost a lot earlier. I can guarantee you that. Now Ricky and Little Chrissie sleep in the back. The master bedroom, partitioned into two for Marge and the baby faces the street. And glass was breakin' out there. And fists was flyin'. A forty seven year old and a twenty six year old. And the forty seven year old was plenty fat. More like a sixty seven year old. Baby wakes up. Look, he hears noise, he gets scared. It's natural. Little Chrissie runs in to get him. She tells Marge to go wait it out in the little room in the back. But it ain't got no bed, just an old metal desk and a wood foldin' chair. Think they got a little radio in there and some old magazines, but I don't know. Anyway, Marge ain't gonna budge. Street fights is free entertainment. So she sits on an old milk crate (used for laundry) by the window and peeks out under the shade.... Forty seven year old had a stroke. I saw him leave his body. Said - Christ! what the 'F' happened a me!?... Wife ran out in a little knee length slip or somethin'. I don't think she wears dresses to work. I think she just likes wearin' a slip. Takes one look at the bloated turd on the sidewalk and tears into the twenty six year old. Starts scratchin, cuttin', kickin', bitin'. Dogs is barkin'. People start yellin' for Jesus Christ. But the cops got there first and broke it all up. Funny thing is the baby fell right back to sleep, snuggled there in the bed between Ricky and Little Chrissie.

Then, when the sirens stop and everything, Marge runs in to talk about it. Street 'troubles' are relished around here. Said she saw 'his body.' Said she saw  'Dirty-Neck's' skinny knocker fly out. Saw the twenty six year old tattooed guy bleedin' and all. Just wants a sit on the bed and keep talkin' about it. But Little Chrissie wants the baby to keep sleepin'. So she tells her to go down and see if Jimmy's OK. Maybe bring him a tuna fish sandwich, or somethin'. Marge likes bein' with Jimmy, so she goes. 

Ricky says, in a real low voice, almost a whisper, but not a whisper - We gotta get outta here. We got some money. He'll (Marty) give us more. I can't take this. Come on, you want him (the baby) growin' up 'round here?...... She goes - No...... He goes - Well?.... She says - But what about Jimmy? What, we're gonna ask the real estate lady if by any chance the new place comes with a dungeon or somethin' ?

So they just lay there thinkin', cuddled 'round the baby til they all fall asleep...

But down in the basement, Marge tells Jimmy (who was a little shook up by the noise, but otherwise OK, because he couldn't tell what was goin' on.) that Mary's sister across the street, Too-Many-Cookies, was lookin' at their house real funny like. 

He wants a know if Too-Many-Cookies is a Indian name. But she says- No..... Her name was just plain 'Cookie' til she put on a lot a weight and then it just got changed....

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27TH BINGO BOY episode for 11/26/12

Bingo Boy - post 27

And once they got back to the bingo parlor, the rest a the night seemed pretty normal. But  Marty was awful quiet. So were the two Chrissies. So was Ricky. John brought up the story on the internet. He wanted to talk about the blog and all. Little Chrissie made like she was interested. Made like she didn't know a thing. He'll forget. He's like that. Once he bought a book about magic and thought he could do spells. You know. It's always somethin'. But Marty just wasn't right. One a the 'bingo slatterns' (the shills) never showed and he wound up payin' out more money than usual that night. Most times that would set him off. But I don't think he even noticed. Just sat in the back room with his eyes closed...makin' like he was sleepin'..... But he wasn't.  And when closin' time came, the four a them what was in that car couldn't run out fast enough. 'Muscles' came back. Made sure everything was shut tight. Sure he knows how  to milk money out a the old ladies. But basically he's a good guy.... If he likes you. 

Ricky and Little Chrissie went right upstairs. I think they cut a few chunks off a brick a supermarket cheddar from the refrigerator, but that was about it. The baby was already sleepin'. Went in to see him. That, they always do. He's such a nice little guy. Little Chrissie carefully took off his socks. The baby hates to sleep with socks. He wakes up during the night and goes - Hot! Hot! Hot!.... Then he pulls 'em off and throws 'em out a the crib. But he likes gettin' all snuggly with his warm 'blankie' though. And Ricky turned on the small, baby lamp he has. It rotates and throws dim, cartoony, dinosaur pictures on the walls. The baby really likes it. Then they went to bed. I guess they thought Marge was in her room. But she wasn't. Marge was down in the cellar with Jimmy. Oh, they could be real quiet when they had too....  like teenagers in the parlor. My guess is they were doin' somethin' earlier, but not now...... He sits in the cage. She sits outside the cage. He puts his arm around her. Still got that sheet-kilt and sweater ensemble goin' on. Must be used to it by now.

They're lookin' at tv with the sound turned down. Think they're watchin' THE NATURAL. You know, baseball, miracles, Robert Redford, Glenn Close and all. Then a commercial comes on for one a them safe-for-old-folks sit-down-bath tubs. Must a jigged somethin' out a his brain and he goes - I am tired of using plastic slop bucket. Must have ring 'round ass like brand, or tattoo, or something. Must have permanent disfigurement....... Marge goes - No you're not....... How you know? - He says. What you do, look at it?........ She says - Yeah, sometimes, like when I help you get washed...... He gives one, curt nod and goes - I want commode. TV has it. You can get it. They have it. They sell it.

Marge goes - Alright. If I get a chance, maybe tomorrow. Christ, I hope it comes disassembled. You're gonna have to put it together. I can't carry no sick-room crap in here. Somebody'll see...... But then he tickles her ear and she just sighs....

Still, she was thinkin'. She was thinkin' 'bout what she saw the other night, when they got back from the Chinese place. Nobody else saw it. Ricky didn't see it. Chrissie didn't see it. And Mary lived four doors down, so she didn't see it either. But Marge did. Somebody tried to break into the house. There were gouge marks in the door frame. Yeah, the wood was old and not in the best shape to begin with. But these were gouge marks and she knew it.

Jimmy must a heard it. He had to know. But he didn't say nothin' either. Look, he could a been sleepin'. Seemed groggy when they gave him the spare-ribs and all. That could a been it..... Maybe... And maybe not...

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26TH BINGO BOY episode for 11/25/12

Bingo Boy - post 26

The four a them were sittin' in Marty's car talkin'. Big Chrissie and Marty were in front. Ricky and Little Chrissie were in back. It was cold. It was drizzling. They were parked outside some Kmart. Marty needed Christmas candy to feed the women in the bingo parlor. Big Chrissie wasn't supposed to go too, but she ran out and jumped in. Rainy nights are slow. They already had enough kids on the floor and she knew it. Besides, Big Chrissie had something to say....

She goes - I do not think he's comin' back. I got a feelin'. I got a feelin'. I know it...... She digs through her handbag and says - Look, look, look, here, I'll show you. I can get it on the phone. I'll show you..... Then she taps something on the screen with her fingernails..... John saw it. He saw it first. He told me - she says.... Here, here, here it is. Look, read it. Read it. Read it. - and she thrusts the phone to Marty..... The other two just sit there. They don't say a word. Marty takes the phone. He looks. He reads and goes - Jesus Christ....... Big Chrissie goes - Didn't I tell you. Whoever writes that is talkin' 'bout us. John tried to find his name, but he couldn't...... Marty stammers a reply - B-b-but how's he talkin' about us? This guy's talkin' 'bout a murder. We ain't murdered nobody......... Yeah, but the people. The place. The way it looks. My God, even some a the customers - goes Big Chrissie. Shit, it's like the Twilight Zone. I wanna talk to Jimmy. There must be a way I can call him. You don't get it. He's like an uncle to me. It's a sign! It's a sign! It's a sign! Who's gonna help with the baby!!?....... Marty don't say a word. Then she starts punchin' him and slappin' him and cryin'.......... He fights her off. He goes - Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! You know I'm gonna help you. You know I will. Stop it!..... Like about a minute goes by. And you know how long a minute can be when nobody talks.... Then Big Chrissie goes - Look, I know he's a creep. I know he's a loudmouth. I know he's a 'hater.' I know all that... And I know you don't like givin' him money. So what'd you do, Marty, kill 'im? What, did they do it?...... Ricky clears his throat and goes - You're crazy. You know that?....... She goes - Yeah? So, I'm crazy. Big deal. I'm crazy. But that don't mean I can't be right...... They just sit there in the car withy the windows all fogged up..... Ricky goes - We didn't kill him. We didn't kill him. And I swear it on my mother and father's graves....... She sniffs back a few tears... Marty goes - And I did not kill him either. Look, he'll be back. Don't worry. You know how he gets. He does this. My God! Don't worry...... Big Chrissie goes - OK, you don't want me to worry?...... Marty says - No. My God....... And she adds - Then gimme money. Gimme money from your pocket. I don't wanna wait for no envelope from Jimmy. You gimme. You! You! Start now. Do it now. Don't wait. Not after the baby comes. Now. Do it now....... Marty goes - Do you have to start this in front a them?...... But she goes - Who the hell do you think doesn't know already... your wife? You want me to tell your wife?..... He just slumps..... She looks in the rear view mirror and tells the two in the back - You know, I don't even know where he lives. I know it's in Bucks County. I know that much. But that's about it..... Ricky and Little Chrissie don't say a word..... Finally, Marty goes - How much you want?.... She goes - It's NOT what I want. It's what I NEED! Don't gimme that 'want' shit, you creep..... Marty goes - Twelve hundred a week. I'll give you twelve hundred a week...... And that's how it ended..... Ricky and Little Chrissie ran into the Kmart for the candy and all and  then they rode back to work.

But the blog went on. She never stopped. Christ, sixty five people saw it last night. Guy on Twitter said it ought a be a book.... Little Chrissie didn't know how to do that... But she could learn.

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LMAO with wendy (liebman)!: Pescetarian Thanksgiving

LMAO with wendy (liebman)!: Pescetarian Thanksgiving: It's been so long since I blogged that I forgot how to do it!  It's a few days after Thanksgiving and I'm feeling grateful for everythi...and I can't eat the whole baby octopus at all-you-can-eat Chinese buffets, because no matter how you look at it... they're still dead babies......enjoy the wit humor and wisdom of comedian WENDY LIEBMAN  a pleasant refreshing break before our next installment (a bit later tonight...maybe after SNL)

25TH BINGO BOY episode for 11/24/12

Bingo Boy - post 25

They all go out for a nice Thanksgiving dinner. Little Chrissie, Ricky, the baby, Marge and a neighbor lady, named Mary, that Marge is friends with. He drives them up to a shiny, new all-you-can-eat Chinese style buffet by the multiplex on Grant Avenue. It's in a part of the Northeast that's still a little bit suburban-middle class. Thirteen dollars and ninety nine cents... that's how much it cost, per person, I mean. Beverages extra. But they had nicely browned whole turkeys up there and candied sweet potatoes, roast beef and baby octopus.... just like the Pilgrims. The baby really liked all the sights... the lights... the smells... the other children... the mashed sweet potatoes. He had a good time. They all did. Little Chrissie took out her new iPad, or tablet, or whatever it is. Sure she tried to be discreet. But what could she do? She was hooked. Had a blog now. Wrote stories. OK, so only twenty seven hits so far. But it's only been two weeks. Trouble is, she writes from life, just like that writer on Charlie Rose said. An artist now, don't you know. Wants to check her stats, see if she got any more page views. Marge goes - Jesus Christ! Put that thing the hell away!..... Little Chrissie goes - All right, all right..... And she does. This is a holiday... a pleasant occasion.... baby's first night out in a 'real' restaurant. She understands. She gets it. But what she don't get is that her writing is a little too close to real life..... a little too revealing. John, that other kid from the bingo hall has seen it. He's pretty savvy with computers. And Little Chrissie tweeted about it at a site called #PHILLYSTORIES. That's how it happened. Oh, he didn't know she was the author. But he recognized the bingo hall (she moved it to Torresdale Avenue.. a very slight improvement). And the 'Marty' character was still Marty, only now he answered to 'Sid.' Even he was in it. But instead of 'John' they called him 'Tom.' And in the story, Jimmy wasn't wearin' printed sheet togas down her basement. He was dead and cold and buried in a swampy, Jersey, Pine Barrens grave.

Believe me, Big Chrissie was very upset when she found out. True, she thought it was a coincidence. But she believed in 'signs.' 

And this one wasn't good. 

Oh, yeah, one more thing..... this Thanksgiving outing  marked the first time they let Jimmy stay home by himself. Not that he was awake. Marge slipped him a double shot of Benadryl, or whatever you call it and he was sawin' wood in Old Ukraine..... Plus the cage was still locked. She felt bad... No, she really did. Ricky said they'd bring him back a take-out order of barbecued spare ribs and fried shrimp, maybe a couple other things too, so that made her feel a little better. Mary didn't know what they were talkin' about..... I don't know. Maybe she did.....

And I ain't a ghost from Frankford Avenue, or any other part a Philly... I'm just a ghost from Seattle, so don't ask me how I got here. This 'bein' dead' shit is all new to me.... I either fell out a window, or got hit by a train. But gimme some time. I'll remember.....

Maybe it's because I like Chinese food?

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24TH NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/23/12

BINGO BOY - post 23

And the ripples in the ether come from me. It is I, Pennyfeather, the actor from The Walnut Street Theater. What brought me back? Relationships... alliances.... romantic dalliances. We of the stage relish such things. For what is a play, save an intricately woven piece of emotional conceit? Bodies come together... and then they pull apart. Some do so repeatedly, while others maintain the seal. 

Ricky has his Chrissie, the little one, I mean. And she her Ricky-boy. What will become of it? How will the pudding set? And let us not forget the older lovers here. They also grow entangled, like ivy on a wall. And will the tendrils always climb, or will the trellis fall?

Ah, breakfast time in our secluded, basement dungeon. Abelard and Heloise had not a better spot. Marge fiddles with the vittles upon her Jimmy's tray and slides it to him through the iron bars... He drinks in her every move. And sees the pains she's taken to make her features glow...... He takes the and begins to eat. Then he says - Hey, old lady, how long the two shit-for-brainses gonna keep me here?..... Marge goes - I don't know. They don't tell me nothin'. I'm just her grandmom. And you know that little bundle we got upstairs?..... Jimmy goes - Yeahhh?..... Marge goes - I'm his (makes 'eyes') great grandmom... Jimmy says - No? For real?...... She nods playfully... He goes - I don't believe it. Tell me, old lady, how many years you got?..... She quietly ponders her response - You mean you wanna know how old am I?.... This time he nods..... She goes - I'm fifty five... No, I'm sixty. I'm sixty. I'm sixty. You know how it is... But that's not so old. Is it?....... He beckons her toward the bars. She comes closer. He reaches out, caresses her cheek and kisses her on the lips.... She sighs.... And he whispers - thank you for last night......... She wants to respond, but the baby begins to cry upstairs, so she pulls away, then turns and says - Tonight, for dinner, you want some take-out crab cakes from the taproom down the street?..... He nods and says - And get some for yourself. Why should we eat alone?

Later that day, as she takes the chubby bundle for his airing in a stroller, neighbor women can't help but notice how radiant she looks. Some of them whisper to each other.They say - What the hell she done to herself?....... But only her basement house guest knows for sure.

When dinner comes 'round, they sit together, though separated by the bars and quietly eat their meaty seafood treats, while watching Wheel of Fortune on the little TV. He's wearing the sweater from Kohl's. And except for his printed sheet kilt, plus the unusual surroundings, they appear to be an old, married couple.

Weeks go by. And that's the way it is......

But Little Chrissie wants some 'toys'. She buys herself a magic, little screen...an I-Pad, or a tablet, or some such thing. Wants to write, perhaps a blog. So she reads them, to better understand the form. And becomes enamored of one such daily epistle penned by a Shropshire lad known as David James. One day she responds, leaving a comment at http://davejameswriting.blogspot.com that leads to certain troubling complications.....

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23RD NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/22/12

Bingo Boy - post 23

It's cold. It's dark. The kids are out in the alley, taking a break, behind the bingo hall. They got long sleeved t-shirts under their 'polo shirt' uniforms now. Hands are thrust into pockets. Breath clouds form in the air, illuminated by a security light mounted high on the worn, brick wall...... Ricky, Little Chrissie, Big Chrissie and John sit on the little dumpster. It's like their outdoor furniture....... Big Chrissie says - You think I'm startin' a 'show'?......... Little Chrissie says - I don't know. A little, maybe..... John goes - I don't see nothin'. You always look husky to me.......... She pokes him with her elbow..... Ricky says - You gonna keep it? I don't mean get rid of it. I don't mean have an abortion. I know how you feel about that. I mean like give it up for adoption or something......... Big Chrissie goes - Fuck no. No way. We keep our kids in my family, all of 'em. And Jimmy said he'd help out. He said he'd pay for stuff. You know how he is with my grandpop........ John says - Yeah, they watch the All-Hitler channel together. We know....... She sucks her teeth and nudges him with her shoulder. Then she goes - Just wish he'd get back soon. You know how much a stroller costs? Damn... What the hell's takin' him so long?........... Ricky and Little Chrissie just look at each other.

And later, at closing time, after everybody else is gone and Muscles and the new guy are waiting outside, just as they're about to leave, Marty turns to Ricky and says - What's gone on?....... Ricky gets all flustered and goes - What do you mean? Nothin'. Nothin's gone on..... Little Chrissie just looks.... Marty says - I know you want day work.  But it's gotta be like this. You gotta keep workin' your regular shifts. You gotta keep workin' your regular job. Don't change nothin'. Don't act different. Don't. Just don't. We don't want nobody askin' no questions, 'specially that 'Big Chrissie' thing. You got that? You understand what I'm sayin'?......... Ricky goes - Yeah. Sure....... But Little Chrissie just stretches the sleeve down on her shirt to hide her new designer wristwatch.....

Soon after, they go right home, grab a few rolled up slices of processed American cheese, maybe a few slices a salty, cheap ham, watch the baby in his crib for a while and hop into bed. They lay there whispering in the dim, blue light from the small TV...... Little Chrissie goes - Told you there'd be enough room for your stuff in here...... Ricky says - Yeah, there is...... She goes - And why does that surprise you?...... He goes - No, that doesn't surprise me...... She goes - Yes it does. You think I'm just like them other bingo girls. You think I spend all my money on crap. Don't ya? You think I go to Slutty McSlut's Slut Parlor for big, hoop earrings and all. Don't you?.... He just exhales and says - You wanna watch Jimmy Kimmel?..... She goes - No. Charlie Rose. Put on Charlie Rose...... He does and they lay there, watching him announce some dry, starchy Washington insider and a guy who used to give pedicures to the pope.

But ten seconds later she impatiently yanks out her hoop earrings and slams 'em down on the night table.

Ricky pretends not to notice.......

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22ND NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/20/12

Bingo Boy - post 22

Now we're back in the cellar. Days and nights run together down there, so it doesn't really matter. What's important is who's home. And right now, Little Chrissie and Ricky are at work.... Jimmy lays on the cot reading a copy of GOURMET magazine. He eyes the delectable creations. Seared, glazed, Scotch Salmon for The Holidays... Crisp edged, Bohemian Potato Latkes (pancakes) with caramelized apple-chutney topping for Hanukah Time (yeah, they got that too). And he's hungry. And he's impatient. so he glares up at the ceiling and yells ---- Where the hell's my tuna fish sandwich!? I want my tuns fish sandwich!!...... We hear some noise up in the kitchen. Ten seconds later, Marge clip-clops down the cellar stairs carrying a cold can of Diet Coke and a nicely plated, all white meat, tuna sandwich on thickly sliced, whole wheat bread.... She goes - Hold your horses, you old fart, you!..... But she looks and sees that he's angry. And we all know she got a weakness for a flushed faced, not so bad lookin' old man in a sixty/forth blend, printed sheet toga. I don't know. Maybe the bright red, Phillies, baseball cap adds something too? So she passes the plate through a horizontal slot in the bars, takes a seat on the wooden, folding chair and watches, as he slowly savors the food. Then she gives him the can of Diet Coke. Their hands brush. She gasps, as he responds with an equally aroused and breathy 'thank you.' I think she jumped a little when he popped the top. But then she watches him guzzle the cold drink too. And when he's done, he says -  Bring my what I need to bathe... I want to wash my body.... She nods, takes back the plate (topped by an empty, crushed can and goes upstairs. 

While out in the street, a car speeds by, headed for a low, yellow, cheesy moon..... And inside, just a little bit later, we see a plastic basin filled with soapy, gray water. A washcloth floats on the surface..... Jimmy and Marge are making love, standing up, right through the bars of the cage. His lower body is covered by yet another patterned sheet, carefully knotted 'round his hips. And his partner wears a crisp, fresh, yellow housecoat (from when she spent time in the hospital with her gall stones), completely unbuttoned down the front.... The brand new, Phillies cap is still on his head...... Later, as they watch TV (a nineteen inch flat screen brought from her room upstairs), still attired in their 'whoopee' clothes, only now discreetly buttoned and arranged (I think it's an ANTIQUES ROADSHOW episode), She says - You like that little beach chair I got you?.... Jimmy goes - It's ok, but why you not get a pad?....... Marge says - Tomorrow..... Jimmy goes, as he points to the screen - And the sweater we seen on the Kohl's commercial?.... Marge sighs and goes - Yeah, that too.... But then she thinks for a second and adds - Where the hell am I 'spposed a find a Kohl's Department Store 'round here?.....

But he just gives her a defiant look... and she nods...... Modern romance..... Ain't life grand?

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21TH NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/19/12

Bingo Boy - post 21

But at work, nothing changes. Every little movement has a meaning all its own and people notice. The routine must remain the same. Ricky and Chrissie race up the long narrow aisles between the players picking up the change and keeping count just like the other bingo kids. They just work here. Nobody's suddenly rich. Nothing is different. And the hall still reeks of smoke. 

A few Mountain Dews. Some quick breaths out in the alley. Throw back a slice or two of pizza and the night's over. Smile at the Gravel Gerties as they waddle out. Ridicule 'em once their gone. Wait for the 'bingo slatterns' (shills) to get their share. Run the vacuums. Clean the tables (they use spray bottles filled with bleach and water). Straighten the cards. Then they walk out with the other bingo kids, go to the car and drive off. Only Ricky and Chrissie don't go home. They circle back through the streets the cops call 'the vampire wonderland,' pull into the alley and quietly go inside. Marty's there. So it Muscles, along with another younger guy who's supposed to be still on the force. But they sit out front, in the hall, near the entrance, just in case any a the blood suckers runnin' 'round the avenue get ideas. Ricky thinks they know something. Chrissie can't tell. Marty swears they don't. But sometimes Muscles turns around and looks into that big mirror like he can see right through it. Marty counts out a stack a 'c' notes, puts it into an envelope and slides it across the desk. Ricky takes it. They silently get up to leave. Marty holds open the big, heavy, metal back door. They exit. He closes it, jams in into places and secures the locks. Then he joins Muscles and the new young guy out front, activates the alarm, snaps off the lights and they're gone. The red, neon 'BINGO' light in the window goes dark. Shift's over.

The next day, he takes Chrissie to run errands. Go to the market. See what's on sale at Marshall's. Stuff like that. Marge and Jimmy are on their own. The baby sits in his play pen holding big plastic blocks and going ya-ya-ya. Boy is he cute. 

Jimmy's in his cage. The patterned sheet is now a hip-hugger sarong. He sits on the cot watching the tiny, tropical fish dart back and forth in the little aquarium. Marge switches on a vacuum cleaner. He looks up, seemingly right through the ceiling, as she pushes it back and forth. And he's thinking.... he's thinking... he's thinking...... Two seconds later he gets up and executes a few fast 'old man' push-ups with his palms against the wall. Then he lays back on the cot with his hands behind his head... and smiles, just the way a fox does in them old black and white cartoons.....

A little later, Ricky and Chrissie come back to pick up the baby before going out to a nice, cheery, deli restaurant for dinner. Marge don't wanna go. I don't know. I guess Jimmy's sendin' vibes up through the floor. 

See, the baby's at that stage now where he'll eat table food if it's mashed up or broken into little tiny pieces and Chrissie likes to show him off. So she and Ricky sit facing each other, with the little guy in a clip on highchair at her side. The waitress wanted to put him on the end of the table, but Ricky said no, 'cause people walk by carryin' hot coffee and soup and all. He's thinks about things like that. 

Ricky says - I think the baby should go to one of those kiddie-Gymboree classes or something. They need it. They're supposed to do that........ Little Chrissie eats her medium rare chopped sirloin with mushroom gravy. They got good food here. Lemme tell you. She says - He don't need it. He's alright..... and she gives him a taste of 'old fashioned' mashed potatoes with gravy. Look...look at him. He loves it. Then he makes with his 'happy baby' ya-ya-ya routine and waits for more.......... Ricky goes - No, really. They need it.......... Little Chrissie goes - How you know so much? (she likes her platter)...... The baby watches another young family in the next booth. He hears their rosy bundle babble 'daa-dee, daa-dee, daa-dee' to the smiling breadwinner. Then he turns toward Ricky and does the same.......... And Ricky says - 'Cause I know... as he leans across and wipes some food from the baby's little cheek.

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20 NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/18/12

Bingo Boy - post 20

Look, a nice, cozy International House of Pancakes. It's late. It's cold, but they're still open. Ricky, Little Chrissie and Marty share a booth. They sit talking over the remnants of 'breakfast for dinner' feast..... Marty goes - So how'd you do it?... Ricky goes - Better you don't know.... Marty nods. He get it, but he still wants to know and says - Where'd you plant him?....... Little Chrissie says - Better you don't know. You wanna know the truth? Even we don't know...... Ricky says - We were so deep into them God damned woods, I don't know how we even got back here. I don't know. I don't..... Marty goes - Hope you didn't leave any clues...... Ricky goes - I'm telling you. If they looked for years, they'd never find him.... Marty seems pleased.... Little Chrissie adds - Boy, that's for sure.......

And the next day, back in the rowhouse dungeon, Marge drags a big boom box down to the cellar and regales Jimmy-the-prisoner with a private demo of her best, raunchy bump and grind. He just looks, arms still pinned to the wall... Now she's down to a little fringed and sequined bikini...... She says - This was my big move (and she shudders like a baby after a piss) from when I used to headline the Trocadero. you know, 'The Troc'?...... Jimmy doesn't respond..... She says - No? Well. I guess you were still in The People's Republic back then. So that's OK.... Then she hits a beat and goes to pull off her top, but suffers a wardrobe malfunction and cuts a finger on an old sequin....... She goes - Shit. Shit. Shit.... and grabs a Kleexex to staunch the blood...... Jimmy says - Yo, sexy bitch, you, you know I can't even feel my arms no more....... But Marge resumes dancing again and says - Wait a minute...... Jimmy goes -  you crucifyin' me. Come on!.... And he rattles the chains..... Marge goes - I just said. Gimme a minute..... Guess relivin' past glories is like a drug...... But five heatbeats later Jimmy starts roaring in frustration.... She's offended by this, reaches for a nearby riding crop and cracks it loudly against the bars. Then she snaps - I told you! Wait!......And he does......

Later that night, Ricky and Little Chrissie push a cart through Target laden with more Jimmy-stuff... Ricky goes - An electric shaver I can see, but what's he gonna do with a Sunbeam Facial Sauna? Christ, I didn't know they still made 'em anymore.... Little Chrissie goes - That's not for him. It's for Gran...... Ricky gives her a questioning look....... She adds - Aw, leave her alone. What you care?....... He shrugs. They wander off.....

But ninety minutes hence, they're back home and the cellar cage has been redecorated, better than Mayberry's jail cells even. There's a nice throw rug on the floor, a matching comforter on the cot, a lamp, some accent cushions, a picture or two on the wall, even a small, plugged in tropical fish aquarium complete with plants, a 'bubblator,' some fish and a waving mermaid. Jimmy sits on cot, wearing a patterned sheet like a toga and he also has a brand new (tag and all) Phillies baseball cap on his head........ Marge (pointing a gun at him) asks - So, do you like it?......... Jimmy ignores her and turns toward Ricky - How long I gonna stay here?....... Ricky says - I can't tell ya.......... Jimmy goes - Why?........ Marge says - Because we don't know, you dumb shit! Look, you want me to go bring you some peanut butter (to the other two) He likes peanut butter. He likes TastyKakes too. (to Jimmy) Ya want a TastyKake? I'll get you a TastyKake?........ Jimmy goes -  OK, two TastyKake and one hand-job...... Marge blushes and goes - Now, now, come on. Don't get fresh. Don't start with me. And who's gonna hold the gun if I do that? You were chained up before. Remember that?..... He chuckles evilly. Marge shoves the gun to Little Chrissie and runs upstairs.....Jimmy turns to Ricky and goes - You get the Vasiline Intensive Care Cream?......... Ricky doesn't know what to say...... Little Chrissie goes - How 'bout if I shoot him? Right now. Right now!..... But the baby starts to cry, so she gives the gun to Ricky and trots upstairs..... Jimmy turns to Ricky and says - Now, gimme the lotion........ Ricky sighs and hands it over

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19TH NaNoWriMo Novel In a Month episode for 11/17/12

Bingo Boy - post 19

So Marge unlocks the door and enters. Jimmy looks up. He studies her closely. Sure she's a little beat up, but life'll do that to you. She tries. And that's what's important. You know what she's like? Like maybe Melinda Dillon from Close Encounters, or Goldie Hawn, but only if they survived Auschwitz and escaped with a lot a Kmart hootchie outfits.

And she locks eyes on Jimmy too. Some old guys still got it, especially if they made it through the Soviet prison system. Never had a client like him before. This one might be a challenge..... She puts the tray down on the floor and sits straddling his legs. OK, maybe her descent wasn't as graceful as it could have been, but you got a give her credit. Black bike shorts? Come on.

Jimmy looks at her, suddenly aware of his nearly naked state, but still defiant. Marge say - Now what'll it be?...... He answers in a low, parched growl - The Borscht. Gimme the borsht.... Marge goes - But remember, I don't know if it's supposed to be served hot or cold....... Jimmy says - Is OK. Is OK........ So she begins to carefully spoon it into his mouth. Just like feeding a baby. He's thirsty and hungry and desperate for the food...... Marge says - Is it good?....... He licks some off his lips and slowly nods..... She smiles, just a little. Then feeds him some more. A few drops drip down onto his chest and run down his belly. She blots them up with a bit of the blanket that covers him. He studies her face, as she does. But the big, tattered, yellow bow 'round his neck bothers him and he tries to move it out of the way with his chin..... She notices and helps him, but it takes time, since the knot is small and tight.... Her fingers brush his neck... He tries to move his hips... She notices and looks into his eyes. Then she scootches up even closer. He breathes deeply.... She says - You know, for an old fart you look pretty good.... He moves his hips. She giggles.... Then the bow is off... The bowl is empty. She says - You want some more?..... He shakes his head 'no'.......... She manages to get back up on her feet, gathers the stuff and goes - Maybe later I'll bring you some soap and water and toothpaste and all... And a bed pan too. I'll bring you a bed pan. I got one upstairs....... He rattles his chains and goes - Who gonna wash me... you?...... She says - Yeah..... and goes upstairs.

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18TH NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/16/12

Bingo Boy - post 18

I don't always announce my self, but it's me, Mister Never-You-Mind. You know what it means to miss New Orleans? Well, I do. That where I been, but I'm back. So allow me to speechify 'bout what gone on now. 

Ricky and Little Chrissie out for breakfast. As a disembodied spirit, I am not always plugged into the same 'time continuim' as you. But still, I'd say we livin' in the next day after the 'almost' killin'. Look like he gonna do it there for a minute too. I thought so. Had me a bet with old time funny lady, Martha Raye. But I lost. That why she gone be squattin' inside the body of a contestant on The Donald Trump Show and I here tellin' you this.

They eatin' fas' food. In New Orleans we call that stuff projectile vomit. You know, that a creole phrase. But it hot and it greasy an' they doan know no better, so that jus' how it is. Place look like a Starbuck in a concentration camp. Got half way decent paper on a walls, but kids keep pickin' on it and pickin' on it. But what I know? Maybe that the 'weathered' look?

Little Chrissie chewin' on pancake. She say - Clients from the Pennsylvania Railroad, the big banks, the big hospitals... everybody... She was the top dominatrix in town........ Ricky goes - What do you mean 'was'? She's retired now, right?..... Little Chrissie goes - No, she ain't retired. Just not the top one anymore. She still workin'...... Ricky shoot her back a wide-eyed nod. But he do find it hard to believe...... And Little Chrissie say - Good thing we still got the cage. Almost sold it for scrap, you know. Iron worth money. And I know how to handle it. You know what Marty give us? Can't jus' put it in a bank, 'cause they gone say - Where you get all them Benjamins? But if you break it up, four thousand here, two thousand there, you can get 'way wit' it. Ten thousand no. Ten thousand too big. So we gone be hittin' lot a banks. Buy some stock too, 'cause bank don't pay you shit. God, now I wish Romney won. You know that? Cindy Lauper right. Money changes everything.

Speakin' a money, now they back at work. They at the bingo hall. They in the back. They countin' bills, makin' stacks. Kids like rotatin' back here, 'cause they not in all that cigarette stink. Ricky an' Little Chrissie at the table. Big Chrissie stand by desk. She talkin' a Marty. She do sex him up every now an' then, but that doan mean she like him. Don't hate him. Just doan care. 

Marty say - Here. Jimmy leave this for you. He say you take this til he (eyes Ricky) get back....... Big Chrissie look at what he sliddin' on desk. It a envelope. It a big, fat envelope. She go - Oh, how much do it got?....... Marty say - I doan know. He not say....... Big Chrissie go - When he gettin' back?........ Marty go - I doan know. He not say.... Ricky look at Little Chrissie. She look at him..... Big Chrissie go - Humph....... Guess she all mixed up, 'cause Jimmy like a uncle to her. You know he like a play wit' ole Nazi antique shit wit' her granddad. Sometime it look like Hogan's Heroes down that basement. It like Satan's Toy Box. I tell you that.... Marty go - You know how funny Jimmy get. Nobody figure him out. I think he gotta see a couple guys in the old country. An' the less I know 'bout his bidniss in the old country, the better off I am. An' less you know, better off you are too...

So she jus' grab that envelope and stuff it down her pants........ Marty look at Ricky. You know he 'spects there a body somewhere? Ricky look back. But his face doan say nothin'. His face real good at keepin' quiet...... And that how it go. Muscles out front ticklin' up the ole ladies. Jimmy gone. Ukrainian kids not here no more. Life is good.

Now we back in the cellar. Little Chrissie grandma cellar. Ain't got no window. Could be day. Could be night. How he gonna know? Jimmy not know. Place only got one bulb. Everythin' yellow and dark and dim..... Jimmy start a wake up. He gettin' squirmy. Got one eye open. Start moanin'. Mus' pain him havin' boaf his arm chained up like that...... Marge (she the grandma) look in through them bars. She got on tight, black knee pants, like she doin' yogurt or somethin'. She got a sweat shirt what say - WORLD'S BEST GRANDMA, but I doan know if it true or not.....

Jimmy got boaf a his eyes open now. He look at her. She point to tray what on like a ole card table an' she say - I got borscht. Don't know if it 'sposed a be hot or cold. I got a big hunk a 'babkah' cake. I got some kind greasy salami. Doan know if it pork or squid or goat or what. Could be cock roach. How the hell am I 'sposed a know? An' I got some ice cold sour cream too. What you want? Take your pick.... Jimmy try to move his chained up arms. He go - Where am I?......... She go - I can't tell you.... He go - What this place is?..... She go - I can't tell you..... He go - What the hell are you?..... She go - I not gonna tell you.....

Jimmy start a scream and holler. He go - HELP! HELP! HELP!.... Marge doan say nothin, jus' reach in a pocket an' pull out pepper spray. She go over an' give him a little shot. He couch. He spit. He squint up boaf eyes real tight. He sputter...... She go - You like that?.... But he still wanna holler. So Marge hold up the pepper spray. She go - What I gotta do? Give you some more?..... That make him change his mind. He shut up and stay shut up til he catch his breath and start breathin' right....... Marge go - Hey, ole man, you hungry?....... Jimmy jus' nod....... Marge say - OK, I gone unlock them bars and come on in there. But I gone leave key out here on the table. So if you try an' get me wit' your legs or somethin'... like if you choke me wit' them thighs, you jus' be layin' there wit' a decomposin' ole lady on top a you.... You want that?....... Jimmy doan say nothin'. He jus' look. 

So she unlock the door, take the tray and go in. It gone be like a lunch date.... almost...

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17TH NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/15/12

Bingo Boy - post 17

Jimmy seems dazed. He's tired. He's had it. His head pounds. It's over.... He whimpers - Head. Head. Head. Head.......... And Ricky, eager to oblige, raises the gun..... Jimmy goes - No. No. The heart. The heart. the heart..... So Ricky lowers the gun.... Jimmy reconsiders and goes - No. No. The head. The head. The head. The head..... Gun goes up. Little Chrissie can't take it. She starts suckin' her teeth and shakin' her hands. Almost drops the flashlight. But she manages to keep hold a that. And Jimmy goes - Heart. Heart. Heart. Heart. Heart............ Ricky exhales and goes - Forget it. I think I'll just surprise you..... He crouches down by his victim. Jimmy starts to kick his feet in all directions. Then he stops to catch his breath. It can't be easy for him to breathe, you know. Ricky moves, fast and straddles his legs. But the pants are still damp and clammy with piss and he goes - Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit....... Jimmy just stares at him, fighting to draw breath. Shhh, listen. Hear that wheeze? Look how the tape goes in and out with each labored attempt. 

Then Ricky looks right in his eyes, leans forward and whispers in his ear - But there's gonna come a second, just before the dark, when you're gonna feel the pain. Don't believe what they tell you. You're gonna feel it. And I just wanna make sure you know......... Jimmy shuts his eyes tight and cries. Little Chrissie backs away. Jimmy starts to shake and tremble like he's freezin'. It's pitiful. Ricky relaxes and lowers the gun...... Jimmy breathes a sigh of relief...... And Ricky says - You know, this is a really little gun. It wouldn't a made a big hole or nothin'. Just a little 'ping,' like one a them silver balls in a pinball game, or somethin'. Just bounce around, hittin' the bumpers, shreddin' the brain and puttin' out the lights. You wouldn't a felt it. You wouldn't a felt a thing.... I lied. But now we'll never know, 'cause you're such a God damned cry baby.

Jimmy looks puzzled. What's gonna happen?.... Ricky turns to the girl. He goes - Chrissie!..... She goes - What?.... Ricky goes - Gimme the tape........ She finds the big, gray roll on the ground and hands it to him. And Jimmy's eyes follow every move. Ricky tears off a few inches a tape and carefully smooths it over the crudely punctured piece already on Jimmy's mouth. And now he sweats. And now he whimpers. His nostrils flare. He fights for air. But Ricky just sits there, straddling his legs and watchin'. Then he tears off some more tape and seals up Jimmy's nose...... We faintly hear the weak, small, muffled sound of Jimmy's voice, as he goes - No... No... No...   And Ricky says - You think this is what it was like when your uncle used to kill the little children? You think this is how the people felt when you fingered them to the Nazis? When you told the Germans? Six years old. you were six years old. And so were they. You went to school with 'em.

Little Chrissie goes - Shit, I can't take this. Ricky. Ricky. Ricky... Stop it. Let him breathe. Let him breathe. Let him breathe. Shit! He's dying! Oh, God! He's dying! 

                           ++++++++++++++++

And then it all goes black. We hear somebody rip off a piece of tape, followed by deep, strong lungfuls of air.... cold, clear, crisp pine air.

Then we're somewhere else... a dim, windowless cellar, a little while later. There's a jail cell type cage in one of the corners. Jimmy slumps on the floor, with his arms chained to the wall above his head. He's wrapped in a blanket. All his clothes are gone. But he has a big, bright, tattered, yellow 'gift bow' 'round his neck. Ricky and Little Chrissie stand there lookin' at him through the bars. Little Chrissie's grandma is there too. Her name is Marge. The cage is in her basement. Just in case you don't know, she used to be a dominatrix....

Marge goes - Where'd you get the bow?...... Little Chrissie says - We found it. Must a come off a tree. Must a been for a soldier, or something...... Marge says - What'd you do with his shitty pants?...... Little Chrissie says - We threw 'em out. Don't worry about it....... Marge goes - What do we feed him?...... Ricky says - You don't have to do nothin', Marge. I'll buy all the food. I'll buy everything...... Marge goes - And get a space heater. Don't want him to freeze his balls off, do ya? He still got 'em, ain't he?..... Little Chrissie says - Yeah, he still got 'em...... Ricky gives her a look and she goes - Well, I had to hold him while you pulled off his pants.......... Marge giggles and goes - Ewww, can I play with him?...... Little Chrissie goes - Yeah, do whatever the hell you want. He's your birthday present, ain't he?...... Ricky throws in a quick - Happy birthday, Marge...... Marge goes - Oh, thank you. Thank you (appraises 'gift'). You know, he don't look too bad for his age........ Ricky says - I guess. Look, lemme run over to Target before they close and get him some pants......

Marge goes - No rush. Take your time. Take your time.. Then she fingers her dull, dry tresses and says - Lemme go fix my hair...

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16TH NaNoWriMo NOVEL IN A MONTH episode for 11/14/12

Bingo Boy - post 16

You see they got these narrow, little access roads in the Pine Barrens. Built 'em so fire fighting equipment could get in deep where it's needed. But when you drive along on a dark night it's real easy to turn off on one and not know it. Sometimes they veer off on a slight angle and you think you're still goin' straight. That's what happened to Ricky. Thought he was keepin' to county road five sixty something. Only now he's on Hoochie-Koochie Lane to Nowhere. No lights. No nothin'..... And Jimmy startin' a wake up. And I do not know why he does like he does. But now he's singin' Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans. See, he's a little bit conscious. But his brains is still good and rattled. Little Chrissie give him the bottle. He start suckin' on it. She figure since he probably gone be permanently dead in a few minutes, might as well ease into it little bit at a time. Make it easier that way. 

Ricky inch along till he find a wide spot on the shoulder. Then he pull in real tight by them trees. Nobody come back here. Think they got rangers but they sure ain't 'round here. He say - Yo, Jimmy...Jimmy... come on. you gotta take a leak?..... Jimmy snorts and goes - Yeah, gotta take a leak....... Little Chrissie goes - Take him fast. He gone in the car. Get him out. Get him out.........

Ricky manages to yank him out of the car. He grabs him 'round the chest and backs him into the trees. Jimmy's heels scrape against the dirt. And he's peein' all the way. The stain on his pants gets bigger and wetter and darker. Four heartbeats later, Ricky leans him against a tree and steps back, as Jimmy slowly slides down onto the forest floor. Then he goes - Ah...that's better. A good pee. A good pee. A good pee.

Ricky whispers to Little Chrissie. He goes - What do I do now?.... But before she can answer, Jimmy starts bellowin' another Ukrainian folk song...... Ricky kicks at his legs and goes - Stop yodelin'! Stop yodelin', you low-life, son of a bitch!... But it don't do no good. Then he goes - Chrissie! Chrissie! Chrissie! Get me the knife. Get me the tape........ She trots back to the car. Now she's holdin' the flashlight and that goes with her, so they're left in the dark. Pitch black. No light and Jimmy bellowin' away. 

Then she comes back and hands the 'killer supplies' to Ricky. Jimmy sees the big knife. It's like a Bowie knife. It's like a pirate knife. It's silver. It gleams..... Jimmy goes - No! No! No! No! No!.... But Ricky grabs the flashlight from under Little Chrissie's arm and deftly plants a few more whacks on Jimmy's already punished head.

Little Chrissie starts scratchin' her neck. She goes - Look at me. I'm gettin' all bit up. They're eatin' me alive. Ricky says - What are you talkin' about? What's eatin' you? It's so cold, they're all dead........ Oh, I don't know. I don't know. - she says. What the hell are we doin' here? Hurry up. I want it to be done. I want it to be done. What am I doin' here?......

Ricky goes over to Jimmy. At first he wants to sit down and straddle his legs. But the pissed up pants won't let him. So he kneels down in the dirt and goes to work, rippin' off huge ribbons a duct tape and using them to bind Jimmy to the tree. But bein' a beginner, he does more than bind him. He practically mummifies him to the tree. Least the knife was good for something. You try tearin' duct tape with your bare hands...... Then he gets up, staggers back and surveys what he's done. He hefts the knife and looks at it. He looks at Jimmy. He looks at the knife........ Little Chrissie whispers - Ricky! Ricky! What are you gonna do?...... But he don't answer. I guess it's instinctive. I guess he got this side in him all along. And now it comin' out. Now it comin' out real good. Then he tears off a piece a tape, knife-gouges a few little holes in it and slaps it on the victim's flaccid mouth.... But that wakes him up. Jimmy's eyes open wide. He starts kickin'. He starts sqirmin'. He starts screamin'. The tape does a pretty good job stiflin' it, but the noise makes Ricky nervous. And he stomps off into the trees..... Little Chrissie goes - Ricky, Ricky, where you goin'?...... And he mumbles - To get the gun.

Uh, oh, Jimmy heard that. Geez, look at him. He's goin' manic. He's smashin' his head back against the tree trunk. He's tryin' a get loose, but he can't. Christ, the back a his head is all bloody. Looks like he's gonna choke...... Little Chrissie just stands there, shufflin' from foot to foot. I think she's hyperventilating too.

Then we hear the car door open. We hear it close. We hear his footsteps and he's back. Jimmy fights to breathe. We see the tape move in and out over the little bit of space between his lips. The now vulnerable bastid locks eyes with Little Chrissie. They seem to share a moment. But it's too late. Ricky's back. What can she do?

Then Ricky very calmly levels the gun, points it at Jimmy and goes - Now how 'bout if I make it easy for you? I'm gonna give you a choice. What's it gonna be, the heart, or the head?.....

Jimmy shrieks. He's berserk. He's crazy. Stuff like this don't happen to him. His eyes go all wild and red. We see the tape pulse back and forth, as Ricky quietly says - Make up your mind, or there's gonna be a third choice (and he points the gun toward Jimmy's crotch) but that one's gonna be mine.....

And Little Chrissie just stands there, like Lot's Wife. She don't move a muscle, as the whole proposition gets all of a sudden real...

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15TH NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/14/12

Bingo Boy - post 15

Ricky and Little Chrissie just stand there, drinking in the clean lined, contemporary opulence of the lobby, a new age exercise in smooth, cool glamour, decked out in every high end finish known to man, or at least that portion devoted to decor and design. The scale is ever so slightly exaggerated, like a Mussolini take on public space grandeur. Ain't no recession in here. Well heeled glossy people glide in and out of a phalanx of shops stocked with all manner of luxury. Little Chrissie says - Just a bracelet. Just sterling. Five 'Benjamins'. Just five. Just now. One time. Come on. Here, I'll take it from my envelope..... But he takes her elbow, as she fishes in her purse and steers her toward the elevators. Ricky flashes a card. Marty gave it to him. The attendant stands aside. They enter the car and go up, accompanied by a quiet instrumental  version of 'A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes..... Then they exit and silently proceed down a thickly carpeted hallway. There's the door, number three twenty seven, like a portal to a residence in a high end Roman insula, flanked by tasteful columns traversed by a simple pediment.... Ricky knocks. They wait. The door opens. Jimmy stands there in his best Rat Pack for the New Millennium attire. He eyes them up and down and says - Who da hell sent for you?...... Ricky freezes up for a second. Little Chrissie sees. She jumps in and says - Marty had a go to the ER. He had chest pains. It was nothing, but they want him to rest, so we came. We'll take you back. Come on....... Jimmy exhales. He doesn't like it, but what can he do. Then he steps aside, motions toward a fine, leather valise on the floor and says - Pick it up...... Ricky obliges. They close the door, turn around and go back.

And dusk falls as they get in the car and drive off, keeping to back roads snaking through the Pine Barrens and away from casual detection. Jimmy sits sprawled in the back. He surveys his ride with disgust. A ten year old Ford Taurus is not his idea of an appropriate chariot, even though Ricky had it cleaned and detailed for the occasion. You know, the first time only happens once. 

Jimmy kicks the back of the front seat and yells - Fifteen fifty! Put on fifteen fifty. A.M.! A.M!.... He's been guzzling Grey Goose from a bottle like Gator Aide. And they just want to keep him quiet at least til he's dead. After that let the bastard do whatever the hell he wants, so Little Chrissie finds the station, a special program devoted to Russian-Ukrainian music...... Jimmy yells - Turn it up! Turn it up! Come on, you 'Zhid' you! They not gonna charge you!..... Ricky just drives. But Little Chrissie cranks up the volume. And they go on like that for like ten minutes, tearing through the South Jersey woodlands, as Cossack anthems and rousing folk tunes rock the car. Jimmy sings along in a loud, hoarse voice. But Ricky's getting tense. He squeezes the wheel. Five seconds later they almost bottom out in a pot hole. Little Chrissie looks nervous. She doesn't say anything, but you can see. And Jimmy yells an obscene oath in his own tongue..... Ricky goes - Yo, Jimmy! Yo, Jimmy! Jimmy!...... Jimmy goes - What!? You God damn bestid?!..... Ricky goes - You think we can eighty six the lousy Boris and Natasha crap for a while and listen to something normal!?........ Jimmy goes - Like what!? That Jew face, Barbra Streisand, or that Jew face Celine Dion, or that Jew face Michael Buble!?!?....... Little Chrissie stifles a laugh. Ricky does too...... Little Chrissie whispers - He don't know his Jew face from his Goy face..... Jimmy (now hopelessly drunk) hears and goes - You shaddap! You shaddap! I tell who is Jew! I tell who is Jew! You dumb, Jew, fuck! You dumb, dumb, Jew, Jew, fuck, fuck!........ Ricky says - What's that, his college cheer?...... Little Chrissie laughs and goes - Rah! Rah! Rah!.....

And they continue like that, ferrying the drunken bigot to his grave, as the Cossack music fills the car with complex, baritone harmonies..... But after a bit Ricky reaches over and clicks off the Slavic Cavalcade. Jimmy wakes up and starts yelling - Jew! Yid!.. Jew! Yid! Hitler was right! Hitler was right!

Ricky slams on the breaks, swerves onto the shoulder, pulls a big, heavy flashlight out of the glove compartment and twists around, smashing Jimmy over the head as he yells - Hitler was right!? Hitler was right!?... Jimmy gags in pain, before slumping into semi-consciousness.

Little Chrissie goes - Not here. Not here. Not here. You want him to bleed all over the car?...... Ricky stops, looks around and goes - Jeez, where the hell are we?......... And they sit there in the dark by the side of a narrow 'access' road deep within the inky, black, pine forest. 

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