Hankin Loopholes Dossier - a satire

1. Auflage 2019
ISBN: 978-1-5439-7851-3
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 228 Seiten

Back-in-the-day, Larry Hankin lived homeless for a year and through his writings, decided to explore the comic and different ways different people 'survive' and choose to define the word itself. Through comic fable, Dossier, oral history, rants, doggerel 'pomes', lovelorn laments, near suicide & a Haiku, Hankin's quirky stories reveal how 3 completely different characters 'survive' in contemporary America: A 15-year-old runaway grows into his mid-30's through 8 funny fables. A former U.S. president's personal rise, fall, impeachment, punishment, and self-styled redemption is laid out through his Personal FBI Dossier released through the Freedom of Information Act. And: The last 4 years of a 70-year-old homeless man and doggerel poet told through his own notebooks, voice recordings and 'pomes', all of which were found among his belongings after he passed away.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Hankin, Larry

Leseproben

Sometimes Jones & The Magic Credit Card His real name was Lawrence Bartholomew Pittsburg and he never got along with his father, so on his 15th birthday he ran away to San Francisco and lived on Market Street with all the other runaways and bikers and pimps and hookers and winos and weirdos and geeks and freaks and geezers and wheezers and funky junkies and lonesome losers and he changed his name to Sometimes Jones. He was tall and thin with big ears and a big nose. He wore this really cool, black baseball cap with no markings on it at all which he wore mostly backwards – and he was a really cool pickpocket. He was the best pickpocket on Market Street. As a matter of fact, the story was that if Sometime Jones got close enough to touch you, your wallet was gone. I’ll give you an example of how good he was at his chosen craft: The President of The United States of America was up for re-election and he had this big, get-out-the-vote parade down Market Street and the president got out of his limo and started shaking the hands of the crowd along the curb. The Secret Service freaked, but just through luck and timing, Sometimes Jones got to shake the hand of the President of the United States of America. So that night back at his pad, Sometimes Jones went through the President’s wallet. Inside was a valid driver’s license, credit cards, some cash, a Social Security Card, pictures of the family, and a strange white, plastic credit card with the inscription “2 for 1” written on one side and on the other was: “The Agreement: Be it known that Whosoever or What shall be Prime Mover throughout The Known and/or Unknown Universe but not limited thereto, shall grant to the bearer of this card One Other Life. Card No. 454545.63.” Sometimes Jones thinks it’s a pretty cool card to have and he feels so good the rest of the day, he doesn’t mind losing all the President’s money in a very close game of nine ball with his best friend, Sal. After all, he figures he’s got another life right in his back pocket. That night, on the way home, Jones takes his usual shortcut through an alley and he’s held up by a desperate man with a gun. And The Desperate Man with A Gun sez, “Your money or your life.” And Jones thinks: “I got this covered.” So, he very slowly reaches into his back pocket, pulls out the plastic two-for-one card, hands it to The Desperate Man with A Gun, who takes it, reads it, gives it back and sez, “This is bullshit. Gimme your money.” And Jones goes: “I lost all my money in a very close game of nine ball with my best friend, Sal.” So, The Desperate Man sez: “Okay. …Gimme your hat.” And Sometimes Jones goes, “No, no. Not my hat. This is a good black hat, I stole this from a very important person, the cops chased me for blocks, I worked very hard to steal this hat. If you want a hat like it, go steal your own.” And the desperate man with a gun sez: “That’s exactly what I’m doing, putz”, and grabs Sometimes Jones’ good black hat and Jones grabs it back and they pull, and BANG! The gun goes off! Sometimes Jones grabs his chest and looks at his hand and its covered with this red, thick, fresh, warm blood. And as he sinks to the ground, he sees the desperate man with the gun run out of the alley with his good black hat. As Sometimes Jones lays dying in a pool of his own blood in this dark alley in the middle of the night – suddenly, the alley is filled with light and an angel appears. But it’s a punk angel with green spiked hair, tattoos, no shirt - he’s got wings, but he’s molting, so there’s pin-feathers floating all over. But he stands over Jones, sneezes and goes: “I’m allergic to feathers. I’m working on it. Okay: ‘You may exchange your death at this time for your two-for-one card or you may keep the card as a souvenir and have your name placed in the ‘Who’s-Who in History’ book, placed there posthumously’.” Well, Sometimes Jones didn’t want to die so he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his two-for-one card, hands it to the angel and he stands up in perfect health: no wounds, no blood, no nuthin’! The Angel puts the card in his back pocket, sez: “We’ve fulfilled our obligations. You’re on your own. Good luck,” and as he turns to leave, Sometimes Jones picks his pocket and gets the card back. The angel leaves, suspecting nothing. Now, knowing the secret of the card, having the card, and knowing it works – gave Jones some options. So, now he starts taking any chance, any dare, any risk. He starts off slow: picking cops pockets. He’s got the card. He’s totally cool. Breaking and Entering: he’s cool, steady, climbing fire escapes, ropes from roofs. He’s cool, successful, and popular. Any dare. Ladies are taking notice. Bling. Any dare. Any risk. Older Guys are impressed. Women. At sixteen-and-a-half, Sometimes Jones is shot in the back by a jealous husband. As Jones lay dying in a pool of his own blood… just as he hoped and prayed, The White Light and his Guardian Punk Angel with the, now bright-yellow, Mohawk “do”, dressed in white jeans but now the knees are aesthetically blown out, wings are still molting, feathers everywhere, two more mini-eyebrow-rings and a nostril piercing have been added, still no shirt. But he stands over Jones and goes: “If you wish you may exchange your death at this time for your two-for-one card or-? Haven’t I seen you before? Did you ever date my sister?” Jones has no idea what the angel is talking about; he just reaches into his back pocket, pulls out the magic credit card and hands it to the punk angel… -And stands up in perfect health. The Angel puts the card in his back pocket, says: “We’ve honored our agreement. You’re on your own. Good luck.” And, when he turns to leave, Jones picks his pocket again, and puts it back in his back pocket. But this time, as Jones turns to leave, The Angel picks Jones’ pocket. And this time Jones leaves without suspecting a thing. So now he continues taking risks and chances: he becomes known as “That crazy, fearless kid”. Kids in the neighborhood wanted to meet him. His outright insane fearlessness did all the talking and convincing. Breaking and entering, ladders, roofs, ropes. Fearless. Crazy. More successful, more popular, till he became known in all the nearby ‘hoods. Which gets him invited into a very badass gang. Just to show off, Jones holds up and robs their neighborhood police station and gets away with it. He was so fearless and crazy the gang elect him their leader. So, now Jones has a posse. Now they’re stealing cars with people still in them– crimes involving risk: heights; danger; and on and on: he’s got the card, no problem. And Jones is never afraid of any of the members of the gang because if anyone of them ever challenges him he always calls for “A Fight to The Death”, because either way he’d win, either actually win the fight – no real chance of that – but even if he lost: he’d blow their minds by rising from the dead. It would be so cool. At least, he thought he had that card until one day he tried to find it, to make sure he had it – but he couldn’t find it anywhere: not in his pockets, not in the closet in his jacket, not in-between the couch cushions, not in the kitchen drawer, not in the refrigerator, not in the cat box or sock drawer – Nowhere. Jones thought: “I lost it. …Or: somebody stole it. The Gang!” So, now, the fearless and crazy Jones becomes fearful and cautious. And he starts making mistakes; which makes him paranoid; so he becomes suspicious, which makes him self-righteous, so he starts treating his gang badly, so they become confused, so he becomes angry, so they become obstinate, so he becomes vindictive, so they just get fed up and challenge him to A Fight To The Death. Well, Jones tries to talk his way out of it, make excuses, make jokes, make accusations, but the gang isn’t buying it. And then, when Jones sees that they see the fear in his eyes, he pulls a gun. And while his best friend Sal is trying to calm him down and talk some sense into him, another gang member, Terry, sneaks round behind Jones and shoots him in the back. As Jones lay bleeding to death on the cellar floor the gang just stands around him looking down and all agreeing that Jones was cool but, “You messed up, J.” Jones decides to confess: “See, I wasn’t who you thought I was. I had the magic credit card. I couldn’t die. I’d just give it to the tattooed angel with the green hair and I could live forever.” The gang didn’t know what the hell he was talking about: Can’t die? Angel with green hair? Magic credit card? What? Terry said it was, “The babblings of...