..the door behind the boxer burst open and a large, bearded man rolled in on a wheelchair.
"Hello Bugs", he said, "And what do we have here? Is this your new playmate?"
"I told you never to call me that!", snarled the boxer. "Do you ever pay attention, Fatso?"
"Don't call me Fatso, Bugs", said the fat man, rising from the wheelchair. "I can arrange for your body parts to be rearranged in a very painful but artistic manner, and I'll write a poem about it!"
"Okay, Okay...,", whined Bugs, "I didn't realize you were so sensitive about your weight Meyer. Help me with Muffy Mitchell, I have some questions she has to answer."
Muffy stared at the man Bugs had called Meyer, and tried to remember where she had heard his voice before. Then the memories came flooding back.
"Is your name Meyer Evans?" she half-whispered. "Are you from the West Coast? I know you, and I know what you did too."
Meyer stared at her intently and with his voice catching in his throat, he said, "Your name, Muffy...who called you that? How old are you? Do you speak Italian? How did you know my real name is Evans?
"Muffy was my favorite doll when I was little. I carried her everywhere, and her name was the first word I ever said"
"Who gave you the doll?", husked Meyer. "Was it your....Daddy? I'm not your Daddy Muffy, but I know who he was. We were close once, but that's in the past."
Suddenly Bugs screamed - "What the effing difference does it make where she got her name? It's time I got going on that ganglia removal, so get out of my way!"
"Wait", said Meyer, "Let's run the autopsy video first so little Miss Muffy Mitchell can see what happens to people who..." |
