Life is...

[The Cocky Gentleman]

Walk in the night,
everything dark.
You look up at the moon,
and know that tonight is the end of your life.
Suddenly out of the alley,
A man comes out and points a gun,
at your head.
"I'M A GONNA KILL A YOU A"
says the italian gangsta.
You smell the alcohol and smoke on his breath
Your pants wet with urine, dripping to the pavement.
Drip...drip...drip...
Puddles of rancid liquid.
But what's this?
It's a silhouette of a man
He is walking with his shoulders straight
A cane twirling in his hand.
As he comes closer you notice he has a finely trimmed mustache
Unlike the greasy italian.
He takes off his perfectly circular glasses
with his white gloved hands and puts them in his suit pocket.
"Good sir could I bother you for a fine brandy
for I am parched" says this gentleman.
The italian points his gun at him
Oh no, he is doomed!
But like lighting he strikes his cane against the italian's hand
he drops the gun and screams in agony
The gentleman hums an oprah tune while proceeding to beat him with his cane.
Finally he stops, straightens his top hat and returns his glasses.
But he turns before leaving
His eyes glowing with intensity.
"I say good boy, change your trousers!"
It is then you realize that he is The Cocky Gentleman. =|:{o
[ 18 December 2001: Message edited by: The Cocky Gentleman ]
[ 18 December 2001: Message edited by: The Cocky Gentleman ]

 

[:o]

Ah yes. Most excellent. Quite exquisite. This reminds of a fine Spring evening of May 17, at which juncture I was reminiscing in a fine lawn chair made of the most rare Shiguai Leopard of southern Brazil. I was sipping from my glass of white chardonnay while gazing into a giant disc of fire in the sky, which I liked to call Father. For, you see, my Father is much like this giant, golden, pulsating disc of fire in the sky. You see, my father burned to death.