BUMMED

Written March 1996

Wally lifted the lid and looked inside. He started rummaging through the contents: a "Sweatin' to the Oldies" video, an old training bra, a lava lamp, a jock strap, and some guy's severed head. "Damn, nothing" he sighed as he closed the lid.

Wally walked down to the other end of the alley. There, he found another trash can. He opened the lid, hoping find something at least slightly edible. Wally didn't have any money, so this was how he was forced to eat. He lived in an old refrigerator box. He couldn't even afford a box for a refrigerator/freezer. He was very poor.

He was also very hungry. He hadn't eaten for many days, and his stomach was louder than than Godzilla with constipation. Wally was desperate for food, and would do just about anything to get his lips on some.

That's when he saw it. The beautiful French restaurant Le Glutton stood there before him in all its frilly glory. He couldn't resist an opportunity like this. He took a deep breath, bug out the half of a comb from his pocket, ripped out a few snarls, and headed toward the restaurant.

Wally opened the door, stepped in, and was immediately stopped by the maitre d'.

"Pardon moi, monsieur. You can't come in here without a reservation. And besides, we have a very strict dress code."

Wally pleaded with him. "But sir, you have to understand. I have no money and haven't eaten for days. I'll even take any little scraps you may have."

The snobby Frenchman was stubborn. "I'm terribly sorry, monsieur, but you are not classy enough for even the five year old mold growing behind the refrigerator. I must ask you to leave."

This made Wally very angry. He clenched his fingers into a fist, and let it fly. He connected with the cheap facelift of the maitre d', and caused his glass eye to pop right out of its socket and into a beautiful woman's drink. When she noticed her Chardonnay was having a staring contest with her, she screamed and vaulted out of her chair. She bumped right into a waiter holding a tray full of food. He was forced to the ground, and the tray flew through the air and nailed another diner square in the head. He was knocked out cold, and worst of all, a lot of expensive food was ruined. The entire dining room was in complete choas.

Wally stood in amazement as he watched the classiness of the reputable restaurant being kicked out on it's butt. "Whoops" he remarked as he slowly started to inch his way out through the door.

"Where d'ya think yer goin', bum?" Wally was grabbed by the shirt collar by a couple of big, bad security guards. They picked him up and pinned him against the wall. "The cops are on their way, punk. I suggest ya keep yer fat heinie right here, foo'." Wally wasn't about to argue with a man who had him held up by just a pinkie finger. He smartly decided to stay.

A few minutes passed, and Wally was in a squad car on his way to the station. He was fingerprinted, given a full cavity search, and had mugshots taken. He received one 8x10, three 5x7's, 15 wallet size, and five to ten years. He was thrown into the cell, and the bars were slammed behind him.

* * * *

Meanwhile, at a downtown convenience store, an elderly lady was purchasing a lottery ticket. There was a long line because the jackpot was at an all time high. Everybody hoped that they would be lucky enough to pocket the huge sum of $517,312,129,398.27 in cash. Considering the amount of tickets being purchased, there was bound to be a winner.

The old lady left the store and walked to the car. Suddenly, a man rushed by and swiped her purse faster than you can say Lifecall. As he sped down the sidewalk with the pilfered purse, it flung open and the newly purchased ticket floated out and was carried away by the wind.

* * * *

Wally shook the bars violently. "Get me out of here! I don't belong here!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Ahhh, shaddup!" scowled the guard as he dozed back to sleep. Wally's stomach yelled at him again, and he realized how hungry he really was. He spoke to the guard again.

"Hey man, I'm hungry. Could I get some food?"

The guard laughed. "You just missed feeding time, prison boy. You ain't gettin' nuttin till tomorrow mornin'." The guard was still laughing at Wally's misery. "It's a shame, too. We served a lovely processed meat product with some gooey cheese substitute. A real diner's ecstasy. HA! HA! HA! HA!" Wally just glared at the guard and sat down.

Concerned more about feeding himself, Wally had not noticed that he was not alone in his cell. A big, muscular man was sitting in the corner, staring at him. When he spoke, Wally was surprised at how feminine his voice sounded. It was almost as if he was sharing a cell with Mike Tyson.

"Hey there, big boy. Since we're going to be here a while, let's say we get to know each other." he said as he batted his eyes toward Wally.

"HELLLLLLLPPPPPPP!!!!!" Wally screamed as loud as he could. His cellmate was still staring at him.

"Nice ass," he remarked.

"Thanks," Wally replied, "I picked it myself. Now, get away from me before I do something I'll regret."

Just then, a piece of paper flew into the cell. Both occupants dove for the paper. Wally got there first, and his roomie landed on top.

"Oooohhh!" He squealed with pleasure.

Wally was disgusted. "Get off me you freakin' queer!"

When they got up, Wally looked at the paper, and his cellmate requested a change of pants. Wally realized that it was a lottery ticket, and wondered how it could have gotten in there (Gee, I can't imagine where it could have come from...hmm...).

"Who knows, this could be my way out of this stinkin' joint. I doubt it though. Nobody ever really wins these things. It's all just a big scam."

"Hey, Joe. They're drawin' the numbers," one of the guards said to his co-worker as he pulled out his own ticket. Wally could hear the TV from his cell.

The Lottery ball reader lady rattled off the winning number combination. "15, 3, 29, 35, 16, and 27. Good luck!"

The guards sighed, "Well, looks like I'm still stuck at this lousy job".

Wally looked at his ticket. 3, 15, 16, 27, 29, 35. He won! He started screaming and laughing like a little schoolgirl. His cellmate was getting very turned on by this.

"What's all the commotion about?" one of the guards yelled as he approached Wally's cell.

"I won!" Wally exclaimed, "I have bail money. Get me the hell out of here!"

"Lemme see that." He glanced over the ticket. "Hokey Dinah! You really did win. Too bad the jackpot is one dollar short of your bail. It looks like you're still stuck in here. HA! HA! HA! HA!"

Wally couldn't believe it. He was still stuck in jail, and his roommate didn't make him feel any better. Wally turned back to look at him. His perception seemed to change. "Hey, change can be good," he said as he eyed up his new friend, smiling. He walked back to his bed and fell asleep, knowing that his life would never be the same again.

the end