Head on the Table

Sarcasm, satire and cartoons

Chapters Two an Three RPMSS&tBoQs

Written By: Sy - Jan• 29•11


Chapter 2

Hulking Harry Humbleton

In a previous time, Hulking Harry Humbleton would have been a heartthrob. Harry was a six foot tall walking specimen of boring human perfection, classic good looks that had been done to death. The sandy blond hair, the finely chiseled muscles, puhleeease, could he be any more predictable?

This was not Harry’s time, but he was still determined to make his mark. Harry had aspirations beyond the job he now held as a delivery man for Jawbone’s bakery.

Harry was working on an invention, an invention that he hoped would not only make him rich, but also would help him to win the heart of the girl he had secretly loved for years, Mary Slimship.

Alone in his basement apartment, Harry was putting the final touches on the first attempt at his invention.

He plugged the cord into the wall, then hit the power switch on his invention.

Moments later the smell of burning wires stung his nose, just before the fuse blew and the lights went out.


Meeting the Slimships

The mood was a happy one at the Slimship household. Mary had insisted that Patrick come to her house, after the dance, and meet her family. They were all sitting around the parlor exchanging pleasantries.

“My, but you’re an interesting person.” Mary’s mother, Fannie, was saying to Patrick.

“Not half as interesting as you” Patrick replied in such a charming manner, that Fannie began to giggle.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mary’s father, Alec, asked, “We’ve got some of that potato juice cocktail, that everybody’s raving about. Have you tried it yet?”

The mention of the potato juice cocktail made Patrick cringe for a moment, not in revulsion, but in fear, but he quickly regained his composure and hoped that no one had noticed his reaction.

“No.” Patrick replied, “I’m fine. Don’t go to any trouble for my sake.”

“Dad,” Mary said excitedly, “Why don’t you get your guitar and play a song? He’s really good.” She told Patrick. “He’s been playing since high school, and he still plays gigs around town.”

“Good idea.” Alec said.

Patrick protested, but minutes later Alec returned with his guitar. He fingered the chords with his one remaining hand, while strumming the strings with his toes, and crooned out a lively rendition of “My Girl tis of Thee.”

“If she’s a good girl or a bad girl

I’ll love her just the same

I’ll eat you like a snack, girl

until you call my name

She may not seem like much to you

But to me she’s everything

She is my girl tis of thee

And it’s of her I sing”

Everybody joined in for the chorus, with an elated Mary, singing the loudest.

“Oh, my girl tis of thee

always so sweet to me

It’s of thee I sing”

Patrick applauded. “The old songs always have the most meaning. Great job folks”.

“Mom, tell Patrick the story about, how you lost the little finger on your right hand.” Mary said.

“Oh, he doesn’t want to hear about that.” Her mother answered.

“Please, mom. It’s so romantic.” Mary pleaded.

“Alright, if you insist,” Fannie said. “I lost that finger on the night that Mary’s father asked me to marry him. I was in such a daze that I forgot to check myself, as you know we lepers must, since we lose feeling due to our disease, and any little cut can turn into a major infection or gangrene if we don’t catch it.

“Of course I know,” Patrick interjected, “Leper Island was my favorite reality show and I don’t usually even watch reality TV.”

“Mom wasn’t a fan,” Mary told Patrick, “She thought it was degrading to lepers, but I liked it.”

“Well, anyway,” Fannie went on,  “when I got into the car that night, I let my hand dangle too close to the door when Alec closed it for me, and it took my finger right off. I didn’t even realize it until we got to where we were going for dinner. The whole ride over I’m thinking that I’m just light-headed from the proposal, when actually I was bleeding half to death.

Neither one of us realized what had happened until Alec came around the car to open the door for me, and “plop,” my finger just fell out on the ground.”

“I’d still have that finger, if not for you.” Fannie said, lovingly nudging Alec.

A sheepish grin crossed Alec’s face as he rolled his eyes toward his wife.

“How romantic,” Mary sighed.

“The two of you are so interesting.” Patrick said, “but I really must be going. Maybe next time I’ll get to meet your other charming daughter, Alice.”

“If she’s not too busy hanging around the bowling alley.” Fannie mumbled under her breath.

“Now, mother, don’t get started.” Mary scolded. “Come on Patrick, I’ll walk you to your car.” She said, putting her arm through his.

Before Patrick drove off, they made plans to see each other the next day. Mary, still, didn’t know much about Patrick. All he had told her was that he was a traveling salesman and was presently taking some time off to travel. Why a person with his obvious attributes would be working as a salesman was beyond her, and why a traveling salesman would take time off  to “travel” seemed to make even less sense. “But,” She told herself, “Why question fate?”

Maybe she should have.

Chapter 3

Hulking Harry Hears the News

Hulking Harry was getting a carry-out order at the back door of Norbin’s Diner when he heard some women talking about Mary’s more-interesting-than-thou new beau. He was shocked and dismayed. He didn’t want to believe it.

Not one guy in town had tried to approach Mary for at least six or seven years. Ever since her high school loves, the Johnson Siamese Twins, Ty and Rone, had gotten killed in a fiery car crash.

A local female Rap artist, Heavy Floe, had gained national attention by writing a song about the incident called “Fiery Car Crash.”  Her debut album “Can’t Stop the Floe” had gone national and the single had gotten heavy play in Dipdrought. Poor Mary had been tortured by the song for years. When she would least expect it, she would encounter the song playing on a radio, or a music service or ringtone and break down in tears.

Mary’s sister had told people that sometimes Mary would recite the chorus in her sleep.

“What’s easy to remember

is hard to forget

and she still hasn’t gotten over them yet

That fiery car crash is burned in her mind

That fiery car crash that burned them Aliiiive”

Then Mary would wake up screaming, which would wake the rest of her family, and they would all go in to console her.

Harry had hoped that, eventually, Mary might settle for someone like him, especially once he had perfected his invention and gotten rich, and he thought back to the first time he had seen her.

Mary was seventeen, at the time, but already she had filled out very nicely. Harry was nineteen and was working the same job he was still working at now, nine years later, probably the only job he ever would have. He was a deliveryman for Jawbone’s Deli and Bakery, and Jawbones was sponsoring a pie-eating contest at the local Fourth of July Picnic. It was Harry’s job to deliver the pies for the contest, then wait around and collect the empty pie tins after the event, and return them to the bakery.

Harry watched in awe as Mary hoisted pie after pie, consuming each one in about two bites. The way she was able to shove them into her mouth and hardly lose a crumb was art. There was no doubt, in Harry’s mind, that she was meant to be that fat and blubbery.

When the contest was over, Mary was the winner by almost two pies. When she rose to accept her one hundred dollar prize, she passed gas and let out a long, deep, belch at the same time.

“Well.” She remarked, “I guess that makes room for a little more.” With that comment, she shoved another half of a pie down her gullet.

The audience went wild, they loved her, but not half as much as Harry did. “If only I could win her heart,” He told himself, but he didn’t really believe it would ever happen.

His hopes, however, had been rekindled after the car crash that killed Ty and Rone Johnson, a couple of years later. He thought, for sure, that he would be able to benefit from the cruel blow that fate had dealt to Mary in the love department.

Now, all of his dreams were melting, cascading into a pool of hopelessness.

He went back to his apartment and tried to work on his invention, but it was no use, he couldn’t concentrate. His pain was too great. He lashed out at his invention, knocking it from the kitchen table and smashing it on the floor. He didn’t care anymore. The world would have to live without “the ultimate doorstopper”.

Still, Harry knew he would not be satisfied unless he made at least one try to win the girl that he loved.

Next Week Chapter 4: Emitt Airhartd (The Billionaire) and Chapter 5: Doctor Monte Pinprick







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  1. psychodoodle says:

    very twistedly imaginative :)and i’m actually getting accustomed to the other world that these people live in…

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