| |
Picture Credits:
Bob Church, 54, of suburban Topeka, is missing and assumed dead. Details regarding his absence are somewhat sketchy, but informed sources say that due to the amount of Guinness consumed by Mr. Church the previous evening, it’s not likely he could possibly still be alive.
Mr. Church was attempting to “party hearty, Marty” late last night, in the company of acquaintances and total strangers, enjoying one last quaff before closing time. Stubby Squamish, owner of Pookie’s Bawdyshop, when contacted by police this morning, was obviously despondent. In a tearful interview through an interpreter (Squamish speaks only Eastside Topekan, a form of unintelligible colloquial jibberish), Mr. Squamish told investigators that Mr. Church was not particularly likeable, given his tendencies toward unprovoked outbursts and openly anti-social behavior, but it was always a pleasure to count the till at the end of the night, whenever he was around. Sure, there were the losses in broken furniture and windows to subtract, but his business insurance normally covered it, and the deductible was “just part of the cost of doing business”. Plus, he commented, there was the problem of what to do with the fifty extra kegs of Guinness he kept on hand, just for Mr. Church. At this point, the man broke down completely and started some sort of impromptu ceremony, evidently in supplication to some bizarre bacchanalian deity, intoning the word “Jizzmo… Jizzmo… Jizzmo”.
Apparently, Mr. Church was last seen wandering through the alley behind Pookie’s Bawdyshop, shaking his fists at the sky and screaming “I hate kickers, I hate kickers, I hate kickers”. One eyewitness, when asked by this reporter why he didn’t try to stop him after witnessing this bizarre behavior, said, “What bizarre behavior?”
One acquaintance (who insisted his identity be kept anonymous because he feared threats of reprisal from civic groups across the city) was particularly distraught. “Oh, Bob was all right, in a strange sort of way, and he always paid his gambling debts… I told him not to bet on the Rams in the Super Bowl… but he just wouldn’t listen… he just kept mumbling that the Patriots uniforms were too ugly for them to win. I thought it was just the Guinness talking…”
Bob’s wife, Alvina, has a different theory. “Oh, I think he’ll show up… he always does. He’s probably forgot where he parked the Blazer and hopped on a Greyhound bus. I ‘spect he’s probably pulling into Tulsa or Oklahoma City about now, and the driver will unload the bus, get a whiff of the odor coming from under one of the seats, and wake him up. Then, I’ll get a call to come and get him, which of course I’ll laugh at and tell him to find his own damn way home. No, he’s okay, I’m sure of it. If I don’t hear from him in another couple of hours, I’ll start a house-to-house search of every hot tub in Shawnee County! If he’s about, I’ll find him!”
No plans for services or a memorial have been made pending resolution, but Mrs. Church recommended that those wishing to leave a memorial could make a contribution to the William Clinton Home For The Incorrigibly Perverse. Grinning as she spoke, she commented "The old bastard will end up there sooner or later... it's just a matter of time".
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work
from Stories
|
|
Welcome !
