| This paragraph is by
Tweed |
The thirty-year old musician was waiting at the station in Tutwiler. The train was overdue and he'd been snoozing on the bench when the poorly dressed fellow across from him began playing a beat up guitar jolted him back to consciousness.
"O...I'm goin' where the Southern Cross the Dog..." were the lyrics called out and the man's guitar answered in a whining manner, echoing the fellow's statement in an eery, almost humanlike tone.
"'Scuse me, Sir, what is that you're using there on that guitar? How do you come to make those godawful sounds on such an instrument?" |
| This paragraph is by
MaddMike |
This is a pocket knife.I use it for a slide on my guitar.And if you say my music is a gawdawful sound one more time I'll use it for cuttin'you into fishbait. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
"Well, son, my name is Handy. They call me that cause I'm mighty handy with a knife my own self. So just calm yourself down or I might have to demonstrate it for ya!
Now what do you call that godaw...,uh, odd sounds you making?" |
| This paragraph is by
Tweed |
I calls 'em Blues cause that's what they sound like....blues, that's all. How much money you got? What you got in that case there? Gimme some money there Mr. Spiffy Dudeass musician. Gimme a dollah an' I'll show you how it's done! |
| This paragraph is by
MaddMike |
Give you a dollar?Tell you what boy,if you can make up a song right now about that car parked in that lot over there,I'll just give you a dollar for your efforts.Go ahead on,son.Show me your stuff. |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn the Berserker |
That ole yellla car
It looks so fine
it runs on sterno
and gallons of wine
If you drive that car
It'll take you where
the sun don't shine
you'll like it there. |
| This paragraph is by
MaddMike |
Hot damn,son!Heres your dollar bill.You proved that you can improvise (that means you can make up a song on the spot).How'd you like to go up to Memphis with me?I'm headed to Beale Street to play a gig and I need a good 'improviser' to play guitar and sing.What do you say,are you up to goin' to the big city? |
| This paragraph is by
Tweed |
"Hell wif yew an' dat Ol' Memphistown. I don' hold no truck with any of that stuff what goes on up there. They is some huzzies on the street what'll cut you while they smilin' in yore face.
No Suh! I ain't goin' to no Memphis! Here come yore train Mr. Handy, you best be movin' on."
And the man in ragged bibs picked up his old guitar and pocketknife and....
|
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
Well son,I guess you'll always be stuck in little old Tutwiler.I've been all around this great country,singing and playing to crowds.I have to admit that Memphis is a tough town with tough people,but if you can peform there,you can make a lot more than that measly dollar I gave you.You just got to ignore some of those folks and concentrate on playing your music.Why,with enough practice and some stage time under your belt you might even get rich and famous like me.You won't need to be wearing those worn out bibs anymore,you can dress like me and look respectable.Make up your mind now,son,the train is about to leave. |
| This paragraph is by
Tweed |
"I believe I got plenty to keep me busy right around this place, Mr. Handy, but I appreciate yore offer."
"Very, well then, it's been good talkin' with you. What did you say your name was?"
"My name's Ike" said the sharecropper, "Ike Zinnerman, that's my name... You have a real good trip now and play them blues Mister Handy...Play them Blooooze..." With that the train rolled out of the station...late as usual... |
| This paragraph is by
Old Gumbo McGee |
Aw shucks,thought the sharecropper,I shoulda went ahead on to Memphis wif Mr.Handy.I knowz they be some good lookin' wimmins up thar inna big city,but wif da cotton near ready to pick I needs to be here about so's I cin make nuff cash money to pay fer da dress I bot fer Delila Mae's birfday next week.Come to think 'bout it,Delila Mae is probly near as purdy as any of those wimmins in Memphis and she don' nevah wanna cut me up wif no knife.Probly just as well that I didnt go.Still...... |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn the Berserker |
"Ike! Where are yew, you ole turkey buzzard!!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!" |
| This paragraph is by
c-dale |
Meanwhile, Delia Mae, using money she had earned selling chicken feathers, had bought an old Gibson guitar and taught herself to play the blues. She soon was writing her own songs. Her first composition, "Feather Bed Blues" was soon followed by "Chicken-Necked Man", "Roost Your Rooster Somewhere's Else," and "Pluck Me, Daddy".
|
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
It wuz Delia Mae callin' to old Ike. "Where you been you scamp? I looked here and yonder fer you and here you are sitting talking to some fancy pants man! Whut you been talking 'bout? I tell you boy, you keep on bein' hard to find when I need some luvin', you gonna be sangin' a new song, like maybe, Delia's gone. Yeah I kin jest hear you moanin' now, playin' them blues bout' Delia's gone! |
| This paragraph is by
Old Gumbo McGee |
I gots sum lovin' fer ya girl,said Ike with a twinkle in his eyes.But ya know sumthin' Delila Mae?Dat there Mr.Handy fella mite jus be on ta sumthin'.I thinks that you an me should oughta go to Memphis and play our music.Heck girl,wif my guitar playin' and yore singing we be nockin' 'em dead in Memphis.Whut ya think 'bout dat? |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn the Berserker |
"Well damn, Ike! 'bout time you had you a good ahdeer! When do we leave??" Delia Mae chortled. |
| This paragraph is by
reed |
From the west a breeze sprang up. Not the kind of breeze you feel on the beach or at a picnic, but a sinister whipping dervish that moved the crumpled papers in the corners and made the few waiting passengers hold their hats. With it was a moan, more of a light whistle but with the throat of a moan, like grandpa would make struggling up out of the old cane rocker when he was mad at the young’uns. The conversation paused. An unspoken request for atonement for sins of the present and the future. If the blues could move the air; if it were somehow given physical presence it would blow this way; hot and dry and with an edge of threatened malice. All eyes turned slowly as shoulders hunched into the age old warried stance of prey. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
As ke braced himself against the wind, he turned and saw Old Rev. Wille P. Newton. The old Reverend grinned at Ike and said, "The Lawd has sent me here, boy! The Lawd God Amighty! Them blues you play are the works of the debil. And the debil gonna tempt you and try you till you won't know up frum down. And someday it gonna cross yo mind to go down to dem crossroads and make a deal with the debil, but don't you have no dealin's with the debil, boy. You best start payin' and prayin mighty hard cause the debil got his music in you and he wants to have his way with you. Don't be messin' with the debil, boy." |
| This paragraph is by
Tweed |
And so Ike went back to work his fields with his beloved Delia Mae, who continued bringing in more money with her chicken feathers than they did with the cotton crop. Thirty years would pass and Ike, older and a little more bent came across a young man with a guitar, walking along the road. Ike reined in his mule and seeing the young man was muttering to himself and tears flowed down his cheek. "Why you weep and moan like a baby, Boy? What the Hell is wrong wit you?" |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn the Berserker |
"Oh, Rev'rn Ike, Rev'rn Ike, my pappy tole me that I gotta throw away my guitar because it's Satan's soundsystem, that's what he says my pappy does!" "Boy," said Ike, "stop that hollerin' this minnit!" |
| This paragraph is by
c-dale |
As if a shaft of light had pierced his subconscious and then burrowed through the layers of denial to finally uncover the truth, Ike remembered. Then came nother flash of light, and he was there, 30 years ago, standing outside that backstreet bar in Memphis. Delia had entered first, into that world of shawdows, the stench of raw whiskey, stale cigar smoke, and cheap whores slapping her face like an angry lover. Ike watched as the glossy black chicken feathers in Delia's new hat seemed to curl in disgust. Sensing danger, Ike let his right hand slide slowly down his jacket, then pause as his fingers caressed the .38 concealed in his pocket. The gun was like a deadly, coiled serpent, ready to strike out at the slightest movement from the dimly lit faces that stared back at him.
Suddenly... |
| This paragraph is by
reed |
"Hey Buddy!!" A voice boomed. "You gotta pay the man out front and get the wrist band." |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
"Ain't payin' nobody fer nuthin'",said the short fat man."I come to kill Ike fer leavin' my momma in the "fambly way" and not doin' da right thing by her when I was born"."Whers dat lowdown snake at?" |
| This paragraph is by
c-dale |
Delia quickly realized that Ike didn't mean the serpent of coiled steel in his pocket. No, Ike wanted the nameless, faceless man that was his father. "Don't bother askin'," she hissed, "jest pick tha ugliest won outta this heer bunch, call him Daddy, an then tell him you'll spare his life iffen he pays twenty-seben yers-worth of back chile surport!" |
| This paragraph is by
Entafay |
A shortt fatt man steped ferwerd. "Iz thet yew, sonny boy?" he axed. "Ida rekernized yew aniwhars. Yer mam tole me yew wuz daid. Lord bee prised! Ifn yew aint no haint, thenn yews mi sun!" Ike droped tha gunn an runned acorse tha roome. " I luv yew Daddie," he crid. |
| This paragraph is by
reed |
In another part of town she lit her next cigarette. Byron Hayes sat backwards on the chair and sipped the too strong coffee and liked it. She was a lot like the coffee he thought; strong, steamy and with enough kick to give a guy the trembles. The problem was coffee cost a buck and a half a pound and there ended the comparison. He felt the wallet in his back pocket, just leaned on it. It was still fat, but fat with slips and receipts and business cards from men whose faces he couldn’t picture. The roll from the last gig was gone like the early dreams of a small town boy. She had legs. Legs like Byron liked. The kind of legs that started south with invitation and ended miles north with promise. Pretty soon the phone would ring and he would have to answer. It would be Blake the counterman down in the lobby reminding of check out, asking if another night was needed; knowing it wouldn’t be. You can fool a lot of people, your mother, the neighbors, even the cops sometimes; but never the counterman. They know when you walk through the lobby doors. And they let you know they know with the eyes. It was time for the hunt. And now that he had decided, his fears ceased; after all there were none better. Somewhere out there, somewhere close was a fat pigeon, some bumpkin with a guitar and a dream and a little roll, a life’s work, tucked into sock or jacket lining. And now Byron had bait. “Get dressed precious, it’s time to go to work.” |
| This paragraph is by
c-dale |
"Ike Entina's Review" read the name on the business card. " Short, fat, untalented blues guitarist with beautiful,talented blues singer wife. Now accepting bookings for weddings, funerals, juke joints,and Bar Mitzvahs" Ike smiled. Changing his last name from Timpkins to "Entina" had been a stroke of genuis. |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
Ikes wife especially loved performing at Bar Mitzvah's."I just love watching them cut the foreskin off",she had been heard to giggle."Someday I want to invent a machine that does circumcisions.I'll sell it to all of the major hospitals and retire wealthy!"
"Thats my baby",said Ike smiling,"always looking for an angle to get rich off of someone elses misfortune!!" |
| This paragraph is by
Aunty Boils |
Byron and Marla Carla Darla had spotted their prey, and were moving in for the kill. "The Crossroads Inn" had been a perfect choice. |
| This paragraph is by
MaddMike |
Byron looked at Marla Carla Darla and said,"You go up to Ike and flash him that sexy smile of yours.Do whatever you have to do,but get him to sign that recording contract"Marla Carla Darla replied seductivly,"Do you want me to let him read the contract first?" "Yeah,blondie",laughed Byron,"Just use that sexy voice of yours to distract him while he's reading it.We don't want him to realize that it's us and not him that will make most of the money on this deal.Use those god given charms on him and we'll get him into the studio and cut that record.If my plan works,we'll be rich!" |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn the Berserker |
MarlaCarlaDArla walked over to Ike and said in a honey-coated high pitched voice, |
| This paragraph is by
Aunty Boils |
"Got a light?" Ike stared at the stunning blonde, his pig-like eyes straining to capture the panoramic vista of mountainous mammary glands that seemed determined to escape the confines of their satin-encased prison. "Iz that all yew, ore iz yew a-warin' won a them wunder brors?" |
| This paragraph is by
reed |
DCM: I asked if you had a light big boy.
Ike: I asked about your bra.
DCM: My Bra is none of your business, see?
Ike: I make a lot of things my business, get it?
DCM: If you want to hold some cards, you better ante a lighter.
IKE: What if I want to raise, sister?
DCM: I’m dealing, I set the rules.
Ike: So you say, but maybe I’m feeling lucky.
DCM: Lucky’s a name for a dog, and I don’t see a leash.
IKE: Maybe you better look closer.
DCM: Maybe you better stop talking like Bogart with a loose filling.
IKE: Maybe I should and maybe I shouldn’t.
DCM: Yeah maybe’s a word with five letters, got it?
IKE: Maybe, but I’ve never counted.
He lit her smoke.
|
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
Marla inhaled deeply as Ike held the lite to her cigarette. She smiled suggestively as she sucked hard on the ciggy. A wink danced across her eyes. Ike withdrew his lighter and reached to stroke her pretty face. But his hand never reached her face. Marla suddenly bent over double with a coughing fit that left her spent and breathless. As she regained her composure, she shyly smiled up at Ike. There was drool dribbling down her chin, dripping onto her large, wonderful golden bonzoes. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
Marla inhaled deeply as Ike held the lite to her cigarette. She smiled suggestively as she sucked hard on the ciggy. A wink danced across her eyes. Ike withdrew his lighter and reached to stroke her pretty face. But his hand never reached her face. Marla suddenly bent over double with a coughing fit that left her spent and breathless. As she regained her composure, she shyly smiled up at Ike. There was drool dribbling down her chin, dripping onto her large, wonderful golden bonzoes. |
| This paragraph is by
c-dale |
Marla Carla Darla felt a band of iron encircle her wrist. "And jest who tha hale er yew?" Marla Carla Darla began to shake. The iron band, she quickly realized, was,in fact, a human hand attached by a very long, very bony arm to six feet, two inches of angry female. "Uh, I'm Marla Carla Darla, but most folks just call me Arla." The red-headed giantess slowly released her grip. "Weeeel Miss Gots-Too-Meny-Names, I'm Delia Mae Entina, and tha man yer shakin' them puny excuses fer buzums at iz mi husband, Ike Entina." Arla glanced at the gnomish little man who stood frozen to the saw dust strewn floor, with one grubby paw still holding a burned out match. Shaking himself like a wet dog, Ike squeezed his ample girth between the two women. "Bin lookin' all over fer ya, Sugar Lump. Show's about ta begin, an yer gonna start it off wif thet new song yew jest wrote, aintcha Doll Face? Tha won about thet lil two-seater paddleboat,'Proud Murray'." |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
"Damn,woman",Ike said disgustedly,"You some kinda spastic or something!"
"I ain't never seen no ho do that kinda shit before" |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
Marla, grinned devilishly at Ike as Delia Mae strolled upon the stage to do her rousing song, Proud Murray. "Naw I ain't spastic, I just ain't too good at holding my nikkertine! I bet I can do a lotta thangs you ain't never seed no ho do befo!" |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
Big Bob Bradley the bouncer at the Crossroads Inn & Jukejoint overheard Ike and Marla Carla Darla talkin' and decided to add his two cents worth to the conversation."Ah knowed a gal wonst dat was spastic like dat,we wuz makin' love and she all of sudden like started throwin' one a dim dere fits.Liked ta broke my back she did.Hail,were'nt nothin I could do but hang on fer da ride.Ole girl up an died a few years back an I gotta say dat I shure does miss her" |
| This paragraph is by
Aunty Boils |
"Born as a bike it the ci-tyyyy... pedals n' wheels got sent to New Or-leans...Who'd a ever thought aaa...Schwinn made in Neb-braskaaa..Would end up as a paddle boat for Ice Cream Dreams?...Big feet keep on push-in'...Proud Murray's got no cush-ion...
Sellin'...Sellin'...Sellin' French Van-ill-aaaa." |
| This paragraph is by
CoonAss Culhane |
Meanwhile........Antoine Leveque poled his flatboat through the bayou darkness. A loud splash to his left told him a gator had snagged a coot for dinner. The small light up ahead, glittering through the cypress and hanging moss, told him that soon he would be face to face with the mysterious and tres formidable, Marie Laveaux. A bird cried out in the darkness. His senses jolted into high alert, the various apertures of his body dilating or contracting as required. The bailing can in the flatboat's floor was rattling around noticeably and he realized that it was because his legs were shaking...hard. As Antoine poled on through the primordial bayou stew, his brain shut down from fear and loathing. He never even noticed his pantleg growing warm and wet. The yellow eye from the lonely shack grew bigger and seemed to be staring into his own. |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
Sensing that there was something better to eat than the coot (must've have been the salty scent of Antoine Leveque's pant leg),the old gator dropped his catch back into the swamp and swam silently towards the flatboat.Suddenly...... |
| This paragraph is by
Old Gumbo McGee |
Meanwhile,back at the Crossroads Inn & Jukejoint,Little Willie Lester,the village drunk who also happened to be a midget with a speech impediment,overheard Big Bob Bradley the bouncer and started laughing."I amember dat w-w-w-womin,she b-b-b-be N-N-Nellie M-M-M-May J-J-Jones from over at Cullp-p-p-ep-p-per,from over at Cullpepper street.She w-w-was a ugly w-w-ench dat w-would d-d-do anyb-b-body (belch)she would d-do anybody for a drink".
"E-E-Easy f-f-for y-y-you t-t-t-to s-s-say",mocked Big Bob the bouncer,"I-I-I b-b-bet s-s-she d-d-didn't d-d-do y-y-you"
Suddenly a deep voice was
heard to say,"Quit mockin' the little guy".
Big Bob the bouncer slowly got up from his barstool and bellered,"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"
|
| This paragraph is by
Coonass Culhane |
Suddenly.....the flatboat tilted to port spilling pore Antoine into the murky waters. As he descended into the black water enormous jaws closed around his thrashing legs and he felt himself being transported through the fetid dark, his lungs screamed out the remaining air and he became silent, eyes bulging wide and seeing nothing but the occasional outline of some unspeakable rotted thing passing by his limited vision. Air! Now there was air and the pressure on his leg released. He goggled around at his surroundings and could barely discern a large multi-colored shape coming down the dirt path from the little shack on stilts.
"HELLO HAWNEY! YOO COME OUT TO SEE OLD MARIE?", the thing bellowed out of the darkness.
Antoine heard no more after that, except for the slithering sound of a huge beast through greasy mud as it made it's way back to the water's edge. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
Big Bob the bouncer looked angrily at the old man with the deep voice. The old man said, "I'z the good Rev Willie P. Newton. Now, fo you get to thanking thet I'z just and old man, I gots to tell ya. I gotz the Power! So doncha be messin with me or I be done called a plague of worms down on you to eat yo eyeballs while we sit and watch. Now, leave the midget alone!" |
| This paragraph is by
Aunty Boils |
"Antoine, you love me, for true?" Rita stared into her lover's remaining eye as if the answer was written somewhere within the bloodshot sclera.
"Oui, ma petite crawfeesh, you are ma coeur." Satisfied for the moment, Rita loosened the rope around Antoine's neck. Marie stood in the kitchen, stirring the roux with a filthy wooden spoon. Aaah, dat boy, he good one, she thought to herself. A real chevalier sans peur reproche like from the old days. He would marry her Rita, and take her precious one to the city, far away from Henri Mal and his devil's music. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The good Rev. Willie P Newton grinned as Big Bob the bouncer bounced over to the nearest table and sat hisself down and began to find a whole lotta intrest in the cracks in the floor. The good Rev. looked at Ike and said "Boy, I tole you nigh thurty years ago, don't go down to dem crossroads, don't be messin with the debil. I reckon you stayed frum them crossroads but you sho been messin mighty close to the debil. Whacha call yerself doing with dat Marla ho? She de debil's device, he done laid the trap and you been sniffin yo way right in to it. The Lawd has better thangs for you, boy, but you keep on dis road and you gonna be moanin' dem blues. Hear the word of the Lawd and turn frum dem evil ways!' |
| This paragraph is by
Aunty Boils |
"If'n dat boy wanna sing de blues, dat's hiz bidness!" Bertha Newton's ham-sized fist struck her husband's jaw like a freight train barreling into a crate of Moon Pies. Willie reeled sideways, then collapsed onto a pool table. Stunned by the unexpected intervention, Ike stared at the preacher's wife,then shook his oddly-shaped head as if the motion somehow could kick-start his diminutive brain. "Um, er,'cuse me M'am, but ain't yew Bertha De Blues, tha Memphis Belle From Helle?" |
| This paragraph is by
Coonass Culhane |
Henri Mal rose up out the bed and looked toward the tattered screen window and saw the hen sticking her head into the room. "goddammit, I'd keel me dat bird ef I cud ketch it..." The chicken flopped down to the weeds growing outside and pecked at the dirt for grubs when Henri stepped to the window to take a whiz, as was his habit. The bird made startled sounds and scuttled under the house. "I'd keel dat Henri Mal ef I could..." thought the chicken...... |
| This paragraph is by
Old Gumbo McGee |
"You best b'lieve thet I'm Bertha Dee Blues.An there be two e's in Dee.An don' you be callin' me M'am neither cuz I ain't no M'am by any stretch of de magination."The buxom,coffee colored giantess said,hands on her massive hips and just a hint of a smile revealing itself on her lips."Now git yoursef on up on that stage and sing Ol'Bertha a cupple a songs" |
| This paragraph is by
Totally Anonymous |
"Hey bowlin' leaguer don't bowl them balls no more...Hey bowlin' leaguer don't bowl them balls no more...Bowlin' leaguer's shoes...slidin' on my floor..." |
| This paragraph is by
cdale |
"Whooooeeee! Dat's won stinky song. I hope you wasn't plannin' a ka-reer in show bidness, boy, not wit dat doggie diarehha tune, no suh!" Ike fought the urge to kneel before his new Blues Goddess. "Well, Miz Dee Blues, Ma'm, that thar stinky tune were won a mine, ya see. But my wife, Delia Mae, she's workin' on a bunch a new songs." "Such as?" queried Bertha." Names boy! Gimme some song titles!" "Uh, well, there's 'Nobody Loves You When Yur Thumbs is Out'. That'n's a shore hit. But ya caint rush Delia Mae. She's an ar-tistey!". |
| This paragraph is by
Hippie Chick the Berserker |
'When I see da compuder - dada-dada-daduh/I wants ta puke - dada-dada-daduh/Ah feelz so bad - dada-dada-daduh/it shud really be nuked - dada-dada-daduh
And when Ah iz swimmin' - dada-dada-daduh/the sun it don't shahn - dada-dada-daduh/Ah duz that ole spinnin' - dada-dada-daduh/and Ah drinks up the wine' |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
After hearing this little ditty,Ike decided that he would play it that night,on stage,at the Crossroads Inn & Jukejoint."I specialy like da part 'bout drinkin' da wine"Ike laughed,"But i'd really like to know what is a compuder an what do nuked mean?" |
| This paragraph is by
Aunty Boils |
Far away, on the tiny island of Goombey, little Rata dreamed of someday visiting the Nest of the Great Silver Bird. That is what his father and mother told him could happen: Be a good little Cargo Cultist,and someday you will visit the Nest of the Great Silver Bird. It was the white man who once visited his island who had told him people who worshipped the Great Silver Bird were called Cargo Cultists, and Rata believed him. Everynight he lit bonfires in hopes that the Great Silver Bird would see the holy flames. The Great Silver Bird had already brought such treasures as meat in a metal box, sugar, coffee, and a machine that made music when he put the black circle onto the magic wheel and turned the handle. From this music he had learned many new words: "Boogie Woogie," "Boy", and "Compenney Bee." Would the Great Silver Bird return? Would it bring more black circles, or yet another case of meat in a box? |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The good Rev. Willie P. Newton woke up on the pool table feelin like a moon-pie squshed by a freight train. He shook his head and staggered over to the table where Big Bob the Bouncer sat staring at the cracks in the floor. Big Bob looked at Willie and said, "Wow." Willie replied, "Damned right, wow." The midget with the speech impediment giggled like a damned school kid peeking into the girls locker room. They were an odd trio. |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn |
"duuh hay Wiwwee, wut'th dat thtuff unnner th' pool table?" |
| This paragraph is by
Old Gumbo McGee |
The Great Silver Bird circled the small airport on the tiny island of Goombey several times before getting clearance to land.Delila Mae & Ike looked at each other wearily,knowing that they were too exhausted from the long plane ride to perform at their best."Damn",Ike said,"How did we get suckered into this tour?We've been booked to play on every island in the South Pacific that has a runway and these people ain't got a clue about blues music.We could play hillbilly music and they wouldn't even know the difference." |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn the Berserker |
Unbeknownst to Delia & Ike, a CIA operative had been following them in a private helicopter every stop they made. He (?) knew their itinerary better than they did themselves. |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
The plot thickens!Was he(?),the CIA operative Marla Carla Darla,Bertha Dee Blues,the Reverend Willie P. Newton,Henri Mal,Big Bob the Bouncer,or Little Willie Lester,the village drunk who also happened to be a midget with a speech impediment?Oh!the suspense!Read on,dear readers to find out who the CIA operative really is. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The good Rev. Willie P. Newton was enraged at the indignity he had suffered from Bertha, especially since it happened in front of a bunch of folk. He began to pray,"Lawd, dat woman been a pain in my arse for foty years now, so I ask that whut she has gave, she shall now receive! Lawd, smite the hussy with a bad case of the hemroids, I mean a BAD case!, Make'em so bad, she cain't sits, she cain't stand and she cain't even stand herself! Dat'll stop her frum showin her rear in public, by gawd! Amen, Lawd!" Willie pondered this and thought"Dem hemroids too good fo her!" He reached deep into his pocket and pulled out his razor-sharp straight razor. "Hmmmm, dis'll do nicely" |
| This paragraph is by
Coonass Culhane |
....The Mayor's monthly stag party was in full swing down at the Orpheum, an old theater secretly rented by the city council under the guise of holding special meetings on the town's pigeon problem. The secret remained safe as no citizens ever went to any town meetings, preferring instead to sit by the radio and listen to their programs. The portly Mayor waddled down the aisle shaking hands with the usual sycophants and took his seat in the middle of the front row. He accepted a flask that was passed around and farted at high volume to the glee of his minions. "GODDAM, THAT'S A GOOD 'UN BOYS!" he bellowed. "O LORDY, WHAT THE HAIL DIDJOO EAT MISTER MAYOR? HAW HAW HAW!!!" cried the Director of Parks and Recreation... Tonight's entertainment had been set up and Bertha would be the main attraction....her and a rope swing festooned with plastic red, white and blue flowers. Bertha would be festooned with not much of anything at all except for a Carmen Miranda bonnet......Meanwhile deep in the shadows of the rigging above the stage, a dark form held a glittering object in it's gloved hand and waited for his chance. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
"Lawd, you best move fast with yo hemroid smitin' cause the ole lady ain't gonna be 'round much longer!" the good Rev. Willie P Newton said as he surveyed the scene before him. "Ole Bertha, she always been a swinger, and tonight, she goan swing herseff right in to Hell!" |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
Bertha DeBlues swung high above the bug-eyed men, wearing only the ornate Carmen Miranda hat complete with fresh pineapples, mangoes, papaya and banana. The band joined in happily as Bertha started beltin' out " I'm Just A'swangin". The lustful men cheered at the sight and all pushed in tightly to get a better look at her nooks and crannies! She laughed at the sight of the lustful men and jiggle her massive golden bonzoes in time with the music. Oh, it was a high point in Bertha's illustrative career! In her giddiness, she stood on the swing, legs spread wide, precariously balanced on the board even as the Carmen Miranda hat was precariously balanced on her head. She leaned her head back in laughter at the thoughts of the wonderful the dirty old men were getting from below. "That ole Mayor gonna be good fer my careea", she thought as she looked up. But the thought was cut off in mid-stride by the sight she saw above her. She let out a scream but everyone else though it was part of the song since the scream happened to be right on key with the music. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
Just before Bertha looked up and saw the good Reverend Willie P Newton, ole Wille was cussin the damned pigeons cluttering up the catwalk upon which he stood. "Lawd, you fed yo chillun doves out in da wilderness, why'nt feed em these damn pidgens?. The good Rev. inched his way to the point he was directly above his naked wife. The ropes supporting the swing were tied to the catwalk railings. As Willie opened his straight razor and reached for the rope, Bertha looked up directly into the old Rev's eyes. He smiled maliciously as he heard her scream. "Scream, you damned ham-fisted hussy; soon you be screamin forever in the hot flames of hell-fire!" He took the final step to the ropes and, dammit, wouldn't you know it, he stepped in a freshly made pile of pigeon dookey. As he began to slip, he thought, "Damn, that stuff is slicker'n old Bertha after a night on the town!" He reached for the railing to save himself, but missed, dropping his straight razor. As he ell through the rails, he managed to grab a catwalk brace with one hand, leaving him dangling above the naked wench and the lust-crazed men below. |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
"What the #%*&!"yelled the mayor,drool dripping from his chin,"Who let that preacher man in here?And why did he have a razor?
Little Willie Lester,the drunken midget with a speech impediment,took this oppertunity to announce his love for Bertha Dee Blues."I lllloves her ssso mmmuch that I ccccan't stststand it.Thththose huge bbbbonzoes jjjust dddo sssomttthing (burp) ttto mmme",he stammered."Nnnot ttto mmmention when ssshe ben (belch) bbbends over lllike ttthat.Its lllike lllooklllooking into ttthe gggrill of an Edse(burp)Its like looking into the grill of an Edsel!" At this point Little Willie passed out cold on the floor with a look of contentment on his face. |
| This paragraph is by
khandu |
"LAWD!!! You sent the raven to feed Elijah! You sent dem doves to feed yo starvin' chillun in the wilderness. How 'bout usin' these damn pidgens to hep me out here? Lawd!?" Ole Willie P. Newton was in a panic as he felt his grip slipping, knowing he would fall to a certain death. To his own amazement, he saw the pigeons gather around above him. This his "AMENs", he watched them gather around his hand. To his horror, he felt them begin to peck on his fingers. He could see blood dripping from his hand. He felt himself growing faint. |
| This paragraph is by
The Good Rev. Willie P. Newton |
Nobody was watching Willie, they was trying to revive the Midget, or either get him out of the way, being as how there was still a naked Bertha standing on the swingboard above them. Hell, they wanted to see what they could see as long as they could! Willie and the Midget be damned! When they did look up, they saw the strangest sight...Willie P. Newton was falling and less than ten feet under him was Bertha. Willie landed straddle of Bertha's big neck. She stayed upright on the swing, standing there in her naked glory with the little old preacher riding on her neck, pineapples, mangoes, papayas and bananas falling all around her! But the swing ropes could not hold all that weight. They snapped and the two of them fell another ten feet to the floor. But, unfortunately, the mayor was directly under them, being as how he was trying to get a close-up of the Bertha-view. To his amazement, the view got closer and closer. As he looked straight up, Bertha (with Willie P. Newton still astraddle of her neck!)came down straddle of his face! The mayors last thought was "What a wunnerful way to go!" |
| This paragraph is by
Old Gumbo McGee |
With the good mayors untimely death came a mixture of joy and grief from the townfolk.Some,like the Good Rev.Willie P.Newton,were filled with glee,as this meant a new chance for the "civilized" segment of town to elect a decent and honest mayor that would put an end to the decadence and debauchery that permeated the town.Other folks,such as Ike Entina and his wife,Tina,knew that they would need to work very hard to find a suitable replacement for the late Mayor.Knowing that finding a replacement that would live up to(or down to,in this case)the mayors political agenda would be a daunting task,they decided to call on their CIA contact to help them out. |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
"Bbbbut if I hhhelp yyy'all out mmmy cccover will bbbe bbblown",Little Willie,the drunken midget with the speech impediment cried.
"It be a chance we gots ta take",allowed Ike Entina."We gots ta find us a new mayor thet will let things go on like always,or the holy rollers be takin'over this heer whole dam town!" |
| This paragraph is by
Old Gumbo McGee |
"Yyyou wwwants mme to bbblow mmmy cccover?Whhats in it ffffor mmme?"asked Little Willie the drunken midget CIA agent with a speech impediment."Hows 'bout a evenin' wif Bertha De Blues?I thinks I coud 'range dat fer ya",Tina Entina laughed. |
| This paragraph is by
Sleepy Blind Tutwiler Slim |
Sleepy Blind Dog Lincoln sat was sittin outside the building when they hauled the body of the mayor out. Old Sleepy Blind Dog leaned against the wall of the building, picking on his Catalina box guitar and started singing, "You gotta walk dat lonesome valley, you gots ta walk it by yoself". All therwhile he watched them carry the mayors body away, he was thinking to himself, "Main, oh main! Does I hear ole oppertunity a'knockin' or what? Hmmmm...Mayor Sleepy Blind Dog Lincoln...my, my dat has a sweet rang to it, it shore do! Sleepy Blind Dog...the mayor o' da Blues!" |
| This paragraph is by
Boney Eyes Hopkins |
"Why you ole hound dog! Don't you think Miz Boney Eyes Hopkins, my own righteous self, would do a much better job? Mah largesse (!) to this community would do no end of good!" |
| This paragraph is by
Mortimer Snerd |
Thus the campaign for mayor begins.Will Little Willie,the drunken midget CIA agent get the nomination?Or will it be Sleepy Blind Dog Lincoln? Or the onlyiest female in the race,Miz Boney Eyes Hopkins?Will the Good Reverend Willie P.Newton throw his hat into the ring as well? With a list of candidates such as this,it should be an interesting race.Let the mudslinging begin! |
| This paragraph is by
Zola the Unknown |
"Hey you bluez folks! Is this a 4 party election? What platform for each candidate? How shall I know the bestest one to vote for????" |
| This paragraph is by
Uncle Crusty |
"It be a multi-party 'lection.Ya votes fer da candidate whut throws da bestest party,which is me",says Miz Boney Eyes Hopkins."We gonna kick out all da windows an we gonna knock down all da doors 'cause we gonna pitch a Wang Dang Doodle all night long" |
| This paragraph is by
Frank Sinatra, JR. |
"Y'all gonna Wang Dang Doodle dis town and yoselves right in to the fars of hell! But me, The Good Rev. Willie P. Newton gonna be a strait arrer! And you kin call me Willie P. NEW-TOWN, cause dat's whut we goona gits when I be lected Mayor of dis fine place! |
| This paragraph is by
Jorunn |
"start spreadin' the news..."
The haunting refrain echoed through the streets of Tutwiler. Folk stopped in their tracks and began to wonder.... |
| This paragraph is by
Norman V. Peale |
The mood f the townspeople gradually grew dark, dark as a starless cloudy midnight when a man with a darkened heart commits a crime so foul that the moon dare not shine upon the scene, for fear of witnessing the dark horrors that hide in the clouded minds of unenlightened men who would sell their darkened souls to the prince of darkness in the despairing hope that, maybe, their depraved sins would never see the light of the day which would expose their debauched, decadent and darkened hearts to the eyes of the dreary, sunless world. |
| This paragraph is by
Tutwiley Slim |
Sleepy Blind Dog Lincoln thought to hisself, "Whut a wunnerful mood fer the blues!" He picked up his guitar and started sanging,
"Oh, my head hurts so bad, got take me a Bayer,
Yeah, my haid hurts so bad, gonna take me a Bayer
The only cure I see is y'all lectin' me Mayor"! |
| This paragraph is by
Ms. Boney Eyes Hopkins |
Electin' you mayor?/nananananah! It just ain't fayer!/nanananananah! that you, you Dog/nanananananah! would be in that off-is there/nanananananah! |
