“What’s up Count?”
“Hard dicks, helicopters, a cat’s butt when you scratch it, a chicken’s butt when it eats, the price of a blow-job on the yard, so I’m told.”
“When I was a child…” “Oh God.”
“…and I told my father that I was bored, he would say, “Only boring people get bored.” His statements had the desired effect. I would go and find something to do. Now, in my early 50s, I must be one boring motherfucker.”
“Come on man, you ain’t that bad.”
“Remember a month or two ago at guard mount, we started talking about when your wife hired me to investigate you?”
“Vaguely,” visibly getting pissed at the memory.
“I’ve got to breeze a concept past you. Your wife has financially secured my investigative services. She thinks you’re cheating on her, and she wants video-graphic evidence if her suspicions are correct.”
“Dude, thanks for the heads-up, good lookin’ out Heck.”
“Count, wrap your head around this; she hired me months ago. We talked about this! I gave you the heads-up because you are my brother-Marine, but I still think you’re a dirt bag.”
“Take it back, Heck.”
“You see Count, I have made two tapes and a PowerPoint presentation over the course of the last several months. One of the tapes supports your bullshit lies and clears you. She would see you changing flat tires, grocery shopping, and visiting friends in the hospital. The other tape, and the PowerPoint is what she is dreading to see. I have caught you red-handed in the cookie jar, multiple times, with more than just one piece of strange. What I am prepared to do is give you a choice from two options. You can either purchase the stuff that damns you, leaving me with only the lily-white version, or you can do nothing, and try to make it work your way. You can deny it, but your wife is not stupid. When she sees the evidence, there will be nothing you can do but pack. It makes no difference to me. Your wife wants to get the goods on you bad enough; there is a bonus in it for me if I prove her right. If you want my advice, for what it’s worth, I would call my bluff. Because even if you paid me and you were cleared, she would just hire somebody else to tail you, and you would eventually get caught. You just can’t keep your pecker out of the strange cooze.”
“Heck, you know I am a Marine, why are you holding me accountable for better behavior?”
“It was either this or Clown College.”
“Hard dicks, helicopters, a cat’s butt when you scratch it, a chicken’s butt when it eats, the price of a blow-job on the yard, so I’m told.”
“When I was a child…” “Oh God.”
“…and I told my father that I was bored, he would say, “Only boring people get bored.” His statements had the desired effect. I would go and find something to do. Now, in my early 50s, I must be one boring motherfucker.”
“Come on man, you ain’t that bad.”
“Remember a month or two ago at guard mount, we started talking about when your wife hired me to investigate you?”
“Vaguely,” visibly getting pissed at the memory.
“I’ve got to breeze a concept past you. Your wife has financially secured my investigative services. She thinks you’re cheating on her, and she wants video-graphic evidence if her suspicions are correct.”
“Dude, thanks for the heads-up, good lookin’ out Heck.”
“Count, wrap your head around this; she hired me months ago. We talked about this! I gave you the heads-up because you are my brother-Marine, but I still think you’re a dirt bag.”
“Take it back, Heck.”
“You see Count, I have made two tapes and a PowerPoint presentation over the course of the last several months. One of the tapes supports your bullshit lies and clears you. She would see you changing flat tires, grocery shopping, and visiting friends in the hospital. The other tape, and the PowerPoint is what she is dreading to see. I have caught you red-handed in the cookie jar, multiple times, with more than just one piece of strange. What I am prepared to do is give you a choice from two options. You can either purchase the stuff that damns you, leaving me with only the lily-white version, or you can do nothing, and try to make it work your way. You can deny it, but your wife is not stupid. When she sees the evidence, there will be nothing you can do but pack. It makes no difference to me. Your wife wants to get the goods on you bad enough; there is a bonus in it for me if I prove her right. If you want my advice, for what it’s worth, I would call my bluff. Because even if you paid me and you were cleared, she would just hire somebody else to tail you, and you would eventually get caught. You just can’t keep your pecker out of the strange cooze.”
“Heck, you know I am a Marine, why are you holding me accountable for better behavior?”
“It was either this or Clown College.”
No comments:
Post a Comment