be calm as water, when the winds are gone and no one can tell whither -- my sweet friend!
Rambi closed her eyes. No, don't ask me to do this. Please. She had never heard such beauty, never had someone reached down and touched her soul with such tender, strong words. And yet-she knew that to not do what he asked of her was to consign him to certain hell. To endless hours of mangled versification. No, for a soul of such purity, it was unthinkable. A tear fell onto the barrel of the Uzi.
"Hey-yous Rambicuties,I Juan can says the prettywordies to you, you likes. He not so goods-writes the hemmorhoids poems. Nasty mans gots the potty concession. You listens, rambibuns! Yous neighbor of mines, big nasty Hemmorhoid!!Long month, you there.-can't gots rid of yous."
Rambi opened her eyes and for a fleeting moment she looked into the anguished pleading of a soul in torment. "You fool!" she sobbed. "It's I was thy neighbor once, thou rugged Pile! Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee. He was writing about a castle, you idiot!" And she fired. |
