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Minerva, Chapter 41 by Bob Murphy
“Sorry,
don’t know her,” she replied. Matt
gulped from his beer. He had
done nothing but drink and snort since the others had left the night
before. “So
what’s up with this blockade?” the comic asked from the stage.
“I mean, I can buy a lobster dinner, but I can’t afford a table
to eat it off of.” A
few people chuckled. Matt
could not believe the shit that
passed for funny these days. “And
what’s the deal with Steven Peckard?” the comic asked.
“Do you guys trust this cat?
I keep waiting for him to start breeding mutant lobsters.” “We
should send you over to hurt their morale,” Matt yelled.
A few people laughed. “Uh
oh, we’ve got a heckler,” the comic announced. “Sure
ain’t got talent,” Matt
informed him. “You
don’t think I’m funny?” the comic asked, stalling.
It was hard to see with the glare, but unfortunately the heckler
appeared quite good-looking. “I
think you fucking suck,” Matt
said. “You
kiss your mother with that mouth?” the comic asked. “Yeah
. . . and I sodomize yours with this dick,”
Matt yelled, squeezing his crotch. The
comic obviously had no idea who he was dealing with.
The entire crowd now faced Matt. “I
suppose you think you can come up here and do a better job?” the comic
asked. Matt
looked over the staring crowd. Even
though he tried to convince himself that they would enjoy his commentary
much more than the joker currently up there, he still felt petrified.
Fuck it. Just
think Sinatra, Matt
thought as he headed for the stage. *
* * “So
where’s your Dad been?” Jim asked as he and Dan stepped onto the new
ship, the Emily St. Pierre. “He
hasn’t left the apartment since he got back from the States,” Dan
answered. “He’s afraid
he’ll get lynched.” “Yeah,”
Jim said. “Well, I guess he
had to do it for you.” “No
he didn’t,” Dan said. “Linda—that’s
the girl—dropped the charge on her own.
And I could’ve gotten out of the country the same way Matt did.
I don’t know what the hell he was thinking.” “Oh,”
Jim said. “So what are you
up to now?” “I
don’t know,” Dan said. “I
wanna get the hell away from home, that’s for sure.” “I
hear ya,” Jim said. “Heh,
look at that.” Jim
pulled back a loose panel from the wall. “I
bet it would be real easy for a stowaway to hide in there,” he
commented. Jim
slid the panel back, and he and Dan continued their tour. *
* * The
audience roared, including the scheduled comic.
Some even had tears streaming down their cheeks.
I knew I could do this shit.
Just give me a fuckin chance. “Mister,”
Matt suddenly said to a man in the front row.
“Could you please get
your date to stop undressing me with her eyes?
There’s a draft up here.” As
the crowd laughed, Matt’s mind raced ahead to what he would say after
the next impressions. He
knew that during the bit, he wouldn’t be able to think. “So
that was Madden announcing a golf tournament,” Matt reminded the crowd.
He didn’t want to overestimate them.
“Now here’s two golf announcers doing the color commentary at
the Superbowl . . . .” discuss this column in the forum Bob Murphy has a Ph.D. in economics from New York University. He is the author of Chaos Theory and has a personal website. |