Monday, August 25, 2008

More lad

Warning: I haven't seen the following story since I wrote it five years ago, and I can't be bothered to read it now either. Still, it should be quite the adventure.

“Good morning Joshua.”
“Hi Mrs. Thench.”
“Are you doing anything constructive today Joshua?”
“Oh, definitely no, Mrs. Thench.”
“Please, call me Tulip.”
“Whatever floats your boat, Tulip.”
“So anyway Joshua, why are you wasting your day?”
“Who says I’m wasting my day?”
“Well, if you’re not doing anything constructive it means that you’re wasting your day, doesn’t it Joshua?”
“Not necessarily Tulip.”
“Under what extenuating circumstances could you claim exemption from wastefulness?”
“Well, I am practicing my conversational skills, aren’t I?”
“Good point, Joshua. In that case though, why did you say that you weren’t doing anything constructive ?”
“Oh, just so that I could keep up the conversation.”
“Very noble of you, Joshua.”
“Oh, of course, Tulip. By the way, how’s Mr. Thench?”
“Oh, Rhododendron? He’s doing just peachily. Or floweringly might be more apt.” The silly woman giggles
“Well, ain’t that just too nice Tulip. Glad to hear your relationship is still so rosy. Encountered any thorns lately, though?”
“Well, now that you mention it, Joshua, we did have a slight problem a short while ago. Though I don’t know if I should mention it. Rhododendron probably wouldn’t like it.”
“Who cares about Rhododendron!”
“Well! I certainly do.”
“Well, I certainly don’t. The man is a stuck up prig. Plus, he likes chopped liver.”
“What’s wrong with chopped liver, or, for that matter, stuck up prigs?”
“They’re bad for the digestion.”
“Who, the liver, or the prigs?”
“Both.”
“That’s a nice thing to say about someone’s husband.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.”
“But really, what do you mean by talking in this most revolting manner?”
“Why? You don’t like it? Too bad.”
“No, it is definitely not too bad. I think I shall write to your most excellent mother. With her censure you should be slightly more normal.”
“That’s not bloody likely.”
“And that, Joshua, is exactly what I feared.”
The next day...
“Good morning sunshine, oh my sunshine, you make me haaappppyyyy, when the skies are gray, you always think that, you are so superior, so you always eat a, blue jay.”
“Beautiful sir, just a true work of brilliant genius. High art is what I call it. The unconscience desire to break these shackled bonds that hold you to the earth and you rise higher and higher to the great challenge awaiting all in the sky.”
“What rubbish you speak, Chandler.”
“Very good, sir.”
Note here folks, Chandler is Joshua’s butler. He sometimes gets carried away though.
“So Chandler, what’s for brekkie?”
“Brekkie sir?”
“Oh, don’t be a fool, Chandler. You know, breakfast: bacon, eggs, pancakes, cherry blintzes, waffles, butter on toast, plenty of hot and strong coffee, perhaps a cup of tea, a glass of milk, a muffin for afters.”
“Sounds rather unhealthy, sir.”
“No one asked you if it was meant to be healthy, Chandler, I just asked you to make it.”
“With what?”
“I don’t know, Chandler, you’re the cook around here.”
“Very good, sir, but there’s no food.”
“So go and buy some. Meanwhile, I await your return with an ever increasing appetite. If you’re not careful, Chandler, I shall starve.”
“That would be most unfortunate, sir. Unfortunately, there is no money to satiate your rather large appetite.”
“Less of the commentary, Chandler, and more of the food. Where exactly did all my money go?”
“You’ve squandered it, sir.”
“What are you talking about, Chandler?”
“Well, you can’t expect to lose all your fortune at the racing track and no feel any effects, sir.”
“I didn’t lose all my money at the track, Chandler. I didn’t even go there!”
“Too bad, sir, you might have enjoyed it.”
“So then what are you talking about? Who lost all their money on the horses?”
“Greyhounds, sir.”
“Well then, greyhounds? Who lost all their money on greyhounds?”
“Me, sir.”
“What!”
“Sorry sir, that was just the bell ringing there. I’ll just answer it.”
A few seconds later... Well, actually, more then just a few. Several, perhaps.
“Sir, your mother, the noted moralitician.”
“The noted what, Chandler?”
“Moralitician, sir. Person who deals with morality.”
“Sounds suspiciously like a mortician, Chandler.”
“Exactly, sir. They have much the same function.”
“Very good, Chandler. You may go now. Yes mother, what can I do for you?”
“Well, I’ve come about that letter from Mrs. Tulip Thench. She seemed very shocked at your behavior.”
“Doesn’t bother me.”
“No, it wouldn’t, would it.”
“So getting to the gist of the matter, mother, you wonder what my side of the story is?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I’m sure that it’s much the same as she described it to you.”
“So can you explain yourself.”
“Oh, no. Heavens no. What a ghastly thing to think about. Why in the world should I explain myself?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to punish you.”
“And how would you do that?”
“I would kill you.”
“Well that’s a nice thing to say to someone’s only son!”
“Precisely.”
“Huh?”
“Actually, I think I would force you to do something even worse.”
“No, are you talking about...”
“Yes.”
“No. You wouldn’t punish me like that?’
“O h yeas I would.”
“You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Ah.”
“Wasn’t that supposed to be slightly longer?”
“Well, it was, but I couldn’t keep it up very long.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it didn’t strike me as being the done thing.”
“Makes sense.”
“I believe it definitely does.”
“Anyway, you have thirteen seconds before I punish you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Well Joshua, I want you to explain yourself.”
“But that’s just as bad as ...”
“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Besides, if you do that I’ll explain myself anyway?”
Chandler walks into the room.
“Did you call, sir?”
“Yes, thank you for being so prompt. Could you please ask Mrs. Thench to come into the room?”
“Certainly, sir. She will be coming in right now.”
Mr. Tulip Thench walks in several minutes later, announced by Chandler, of course.
“You wanted me, Joshua?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
“Well then, shoot.”
Quick as a whip, Joshua shoots Mrs. Tulip Thench. She dies. Great mourning. On her coffin they placed some roses. Less poetic that way.
“Well Mr. Rhododendron Thench, I’m very sorry.”
“No, that’s all right Joshua. I was looking for an excuse to marry your mother anyway.”
‘Oh!”
“Any problem?”
“Well, if you could just wait a second.”
“Certainly.”
Not so quick this time, Joshua shoots both Mr. Rhododendron Thench and his mother. They both die. It was a comfort, though, that it was in each other’s arms. Mourning wasn’t so great this time. After all, this time Joshua was paying for the funeral. On the two coffins they placed some roses. In fact, it was the same roses that had been placed on Mrs. Tulip Thench’s coffin. The mortician thought it would be romantic. He was wrong, it was more ironic then anything.
“So all in all, Chandler, a pretty good day. Everyone who needed to got canned. By the way, what in the world were you talking about when you said I had lost all my money gambling on greyhounds?”
“Well, sir, I meant that I had wasted all your money gambling on greyhounds.”
“In that case, Chandler, I shall punish you in the worst possible way that I know of.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“You must continue to work for me.”

29 comments:

e said...

I was loling until I came to the end. That was kind of gross.

The Real Shliach said...

Life is like that.

Cheerio said...

oooh twisty. this joshua fellow is starting to be a bit of a shady sort. perhaps he just went through a bad patch. i'm rooting for you, josh! sorry about your mom.

The critic from RR said...

this sounds kinda Wodehousian with a touch of evil.

EndOfWorld said...

*blink blink*

ooh.kay.

EndOfWorld said...

By the way, I added you to my blogroll.

The Real Shliach said...

Are you referring to PG Wodehouse?
And End Of World, A. What was that first comment, and B. Thanks.

TP1 said...

EndOfWorld has left a new comment on your post "More lad":

*blink blink*

ooh.kay.

This is exactly why es past nisht for girls to hang around bochurim's sites. Why kind of nutty comment was that?

Girls' comments are just transcriptions of whatever they're thinking. Bochurim's comments are written with the intention of communicating an idea. Should such intellectually inferior creatures inhabit the blogs of bochurhood?

e said...

The Critic from RR was in in fact referring to PGW.

EndOfWorld said...

Oh, I didnt realize female posters bother you. I'll just mosey over to my site and remove your link. If you want it back up, you'd better make a public statement about what type of commenters are welcome. Till then, toodle'oo

The Real Shliach said...

Chas V'Shalom! Everyone is welcome, unless they use abundant profanity, as this is a family blog.

TP1 said...

Eow, you stupid ninconpoop! Go ahead and remove the link to my blog.

Cheerio said...

end of world, i am sincerely apologizing for shortetening your name, because the more i see it, the more it looks like "eww", and when gentlemen like tp1 use it, it feels...offensive, somehow.

EndOfWorld said...

tp1 if you're going to try to insult me/incite a riot, use an insult other than one from the purim tape....expand your horizons

cheerio: gentlemen in reference to tp1 is too strong of a word. I can think of some choicer descriptions...

TP1 said...

This is nothing personl. All of you are part of a tragic phenomenon. Tznius is dead in Lubavitch.

The Real Shliach said...

Aval Tzniut Police Chay V'Kayam?

EndOfWorld said...

do you also wave yellow flags?

The Real Shliach said...

Is there a problem with yellow flags?

TP1 said...

EOW, do you think that those diseased flag wavers have a monoply on yiras shamayim?

EndOfWorld said...

If there's a big TP (not standing for toilet paper, you understand), then yes, there is a problem

TP1 said...

My dear End of the World, I fear you misunderstand me and my message. I do not stand for misogyny. I love women. My mom is a women, my grandmothers are women, and one day I even plan on marrying a women. I do stand for plain old fashioned tznius values. That means that boys and girls do not socialize. If a girl needs help navigating the NYC subways, I'll be glad to help. If a girl asks me the date, I'll tell her. But I will not ask her where she's headed to on the Z train or why she needs to know the date. If I would ask these questions, I'd end up like TRS: a former chassidisher bochur who now has a bunch of girl friends. I believe this is how all of us were brought up. So why aren't you keeping it?

TP1 said...

About the flags: Must one be crackpot in denial in order to stand up for torah-true values? If I remind the participants of this blog what G-d expects from them, must you conclude that I'm one of those sickness that occupy 770?

TP1 said...

Eow, I really love you and all the other women folk, just like I love every jew and jewess, but i just think you ought to get the hell out of this blog.

TP1 said...

"Oh, your beard was cute, but the other guy's is cuter."

Can you delude really yourself that that wasn't untznius?

The Real Shliach said...

OK

Wondering said...

Tp1 and TRS, do you know each other?
Are you brothers? Or is the tzinut police the conscience of TRS??

The Real Shliach said...

TP wishes he was my conscience. I'm not sure if anyone knows who TP2 is, besides TP2 him/herself of course.

m said...

So are you brothers?

The Real Shliach said...

Are all Jews brothers? But other than that, no.