If I had a dollar for every other day I haven't wanted to be at work this week I'd have an extra $4... oh wait, I do. I'm sure everyone has relished the 'considerable' boost to their pay this week. I know, I shouldn't complain, it's better than nothing, it all counts. Yes it does all count, it all counts to 4. I can count to 4, it takes about a second... which, coincidently, is the same amount of time it takes to spend $4. But, yay for us.
Just recently, I purchased tickets for a holiday to Vietnam. I haven't been back to Vietnam since... the war. Ever since I bought those tickets I have been plagued with memories of when Tightrope Walker-man & I came face to face with Charlie.
We were up bright and early that morning (so early in fact we missed Robin Williams' first radio show, so we have no idea what he said), completely unaware of the fate that was to befall us. We were brazen young carnie soldiers with balls as big as our heads. It made walking VERY difficult. We were in desperate need of medical treatment for elephantis of the testicles, but we didn't let that deter us from the job at hand.
With a hearty cheer of 'gooood morning, Vietnaaaam!', something that had become a bit of a ritual since we arrived, we set off into the jungle. It was hot, damn hot... and wet.
We were very quiet and stealthy as we moved through the dense jungle. Charlie was so close we could smell him... and he stank.
"Oh, sorry... that was me," whispered Tightrope Walker-man.
I slapped him across the head, "Cut it out, we need all our senses alert!"
"We're not going to be very stealthy if I have gas gurgling around in my stomach," whined Tightrope Walker-man. "Jeez, I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't."
Charlie took advantage of us being distracted and sprung a surprise maneuver, sneaking up on us from behind and sticking his weapon in our backs.
"Hello sailors," he crooned.
"Actually, we're soldiers," I murmured.
"Oh," Charlie said, disappointedly, "doesn't matter, stick 'em up and turn around... slowly."
We dropped our guns, put our arms in the air and turned to face him.
"I said stick 'em up!" Charlie ordered. We realised then we were in more trouble than we first thought. "Hmmm... I see you may be needing some coaxing," he looked behind him into the dense jungle and shouted, "ANGELS! Detain these... men."
Three scantily clad muscle men minced out of the bushes, carrying handcuffs covered in pink fur, and preceded to handcuff our hands behind our backs.
Tightrope Walker-Man started to cry. "How did you find us? We were being so quiet and stealthy," he blubbered.
"We saw your camouflage, silly man with bulbous head," said Charlie.
"You dickhead," I abused Tightrope Walker-man, "I told you not disguise yourself as a tropical fish!"
"But, it's the tropics!" He whined.
"Enough talking, smelly carnies!" Charlie ordered, "we taking you to see big boss man... Ho Chow Mien."
To be continued...
What will happen to Jack Bauer... I mean Tightrope Walker-man and Stilt-boy? Will they escape or will they suffer at the hands of Charlie and his 'Angels'? Will they be tortured by being forced to swallow Chow Mien?
Tune in next time when you'll hear Charlie say, "Oooo, I love the smell of French cologne in the morning."
You can email the Gold Logie winning Stilt-boy at jimjimbo75@yahoo.com.au
Go ahead, ask him a question... or offer him sexual favors, he'd like that...
Archive of Pain