Richard D. Preston
Yo, It’s Guido here, I jus wanted ta bring ya’s up ta date on them two mugs, Tony Big Thumbs an Nicky Numbnuts eh!
I been doin’ a little snoopin around trying to decipher the whereabouts a dese two would be up an comers. Seems like after their botched effort in heistability dey was hoisted by the local coppers an sent post hastily to da joint. You know, do not pass go an do not collect two hunerd bucks eh. Any way these two stuck togedder on their stories tighter than a fleas butt stretched over a rain barrel. True blue, back to back every step a da way. The judge didn’t take any symphonic ears on their lame expository impeachability. In his honor’s opinion, dey had ta suffer the indignitys of big time hoods. Dey did the crime so they godda do da time, that’s Berreta’s law. Even Fred, Berreta’s boid would have ta agree. Dey was boids of a fedder only dey was about ta become in-da-crated jail boids, heh heh… An ya cant always believe what ya hear from local house of justicical deliverance.
Now, I jus happened to procure da signed confession of the goomba, Tony Big Thumbs. An I godda tell ya, this shindig took on a whole new monotonic quality. He sung like a canary which was about to be decaptivated by a Maine Coon Cat eh. It gave new meaning to dropping a dime to da boys in blue. Does ratfink, snitch, Narc, informer, ring a bell. Ole Quasimotto would still be shaking an breaking the sound barrier with them bells if he got wind of their Ratbastardness. But in all truthfulness it din’t go down dat way. So I’m gonna make a iipso facto habius corpus delecti nuttin but da truth I aint lyin’ attempt ta give ya the lowdown on these two stoopid hoods. By da way, dis whole caper seemed a bit more innocent than the actual perpetration of da Arabs seven eleven.
Now that Tony Big Thumbs was a neighborhood celebrity, he got to have his mug embellished in the alma matta of thug-ology. He made the big time all right. He kept saying, “I’m a victim of ill proportioned bystanderism.”
An he consumated to plea-bargain his compromised butt outta da slammer by jabberin like a chimpanzee in need of a bigger bananna. So here’s his amalgamated testicular confession of said bogusifacted incidentus.
The confession of Tony Big Thumbs:
There he was, Nicky Numbnuts, tryin ta squash a bug on the Arab’s glass door, you know keeping the bug population under control. I seen that Nicky’s foot was gonna miss his opportunity for the inhalation of said pest so I dove after the creature tryin ta tackle it. Hey, who was I ta know dat the glass shatterability was at a minimal OSHA requirement per say to not withstand my momentus velocity. Knocked unconscious by the terminal velocitude, I slid head first into da Arabs seven eleven, my face stretching like like silly putty on the un-waxed floor. Sure I can understand the unexpected look of amazementation of da Arab, but he didn’t have ta try ta take my head off with a two-foot peperroni stck eh? I mean his whole attitude sucked bigtime, all we was tryin ta do was snuff out a bug and decrease the pestibility of da city for cryin out loud. It was shortly after that, that the whole stromboli exploded. I was about ta get to my knees when Nicky came dancing into the store like a ballerina with a wooden leg, and commenced to fall down after stepping on my thumb. He twirled around an cold cocked me with his knee to the back of my throbbin noggin. Badda bing, there I was with my own cage full of birdies singin’ “We gotta get oud of dis place”, and da lights went dim. Once again I was sprawled onto da tile floor drooling like a perv at a porno show. The next thing I know Nicky Numbnuts was laying beside me with his eyeballs blinking like a hooker on broad street. Still da stoopid hood stood up hopping around on one foot with his hand swishing around. All I godda say is that it was definitely bad for a tough guys image. Freaking guy shoulda stayed down for the count but Nicky aint known for his thinkability in a pressurized incubation eh. Then Mr. Nicky takes out the oil display with the grace of a 400 pound hippo dancin’ ta celebrate, an the oil starts spilling onto da floor. Mr. dipstick then falls into the oil slick an starts spinnin’ like a break dancer and at da same time he knocks da Arabs feet out from under him. Well da Arab does a front flip landing on his back an Nickys spinnin like a bottle at a sweet sixteen boithday party. It aint a pretty site. Heres Nicky Numbnuts spinnin round an round, An Me da innocent perpetrater in this whole stoopid mess laying there drooling in a inconsequential state of mind. Rajah The Arab had this two-foot pepperoni stick protruding from between his legs with his hand still wrapped around it. Just then it was that the fuzz busted through the allready busted door. An the rest is still freaking blurry to me. I can imagine what the coppers thought as they beheld this organic sight of embryonic disfunctionalism. The way I see it is dat dis whole al fresco was a misunderstanding of material witnessing. We was jus trying ta oft a friggin bug, meaning no harm to the Freakin’ Arab.
I am completely incompetent that I am wrongly activated in dis misinterpretation of da misconstrued incidentus gone awry. I plead innocent as charged eh. This being my solemn confession as given from the sound mind of Tony Bigthumbs and all dat horeshit yer honor. So whaddaya say your enamance?
Hey don’ worryaboudit, I’ll cop anudda plea of copius malfunction.
As I said, herein is da testimony and true confession of Tony Bigthumbs as procured by me, Guido. Now I godda find oud what slammer dey went to for their little sabbatical eh. I hope dat they don’t get engaged to Big Bubba in da hoosegow, but then as strange as this story is nuttin would suprise me, Heh, heh. Yo, even dat would be better than sleepin’ with the fishes eh?
Catch ya latter,
©Copyright August 22, 2001 by Richard D. Preston