A Word to the Wiseguy - Part 9 - A Craven Danger Mystery
Boris Buttinski was feeling his old alter-ego self as he stood on the stage with Emmanuel the Emancipator - Hypnotist Extraordinaire.
“Ya better not be tryin’ ta make a fool outta me in front a all these squares, see?” said Boris. “Else wise you and me are gonna go for a little car ride, see? And it ain’t gonna be on no vacation, neither.”
“No need to be so hostile,” said Emmanuel. “I understand if you’re a little nervous about being on stage with the great Emammanuel. But you’re starting to make your stage mates a little nervous. Just try to relax and we’ll all have a little fun.”
“Who’s nervous?” said Boris. “I done plenty a work on a stage. I was Hamlet once, see?”
”Well,” said Emmanuel. ”Perhaps you‘ll grace us with a performance?”
”I dunno, see?” said Boris. ”It‘s been a lotta years since I done it. And I kind a had ta update it, see? They got some words in there that don’t make too much sense. So I made it so you could understand it a little better, see?“
”How very clever of you, said Emmanuel. “I’m sure the bard would’ve appreciated your efforts. Please? Honor us with something from Hamlet.“
”All right,” said Boris. ”But the first guy laughs, gets it right between the eyes, see?”
Boris Buttinski took center stage, wiped his brow with the back of his hand and plunged right in from memory.
“‘I hate ta say it about poor Yorick, see? but I knew the guy pretty good, Horatio. A guy with way too many jokes, and lots a fancy stuff, see? He carried me on his back one too many times, and now, how crappy it is havin’ it rattlin’ round in my noggin’. Makes me wanna throw up, see?
“‘Here hung those lips that I have smooched too many times ta count, see? But there was no funny business goin’ on ya understand. We was just friends, see? So where’s ya wisecracks now? All ya skipping? Ya songs? Ya bustin’ out with that dopey laugh a yours, that sent the table flyin’ out the window? Ya ain't got it now, do ya? To poke fun at your own dopey grinning? It just about makes a guy drop his chin ta the ground, see?
Now get you to my sweeties bedroom, and tell her ta her paint it an inch thick, two coats. She owes me a favor and I expect her to pay up, see? See if she finds that so funny, see?’
“I think I’m done,” said Boris.
“I could listen to you all night,” said Emmanuel. “The bard’s words never rang truer. And if he were here tonight, I’m sure he’d be as speechless as the rest of us.”
“If I find out ya just been havin’ fun on my dime," said Boris, “I might be holdin’ up your skull before the nights over, see? And I’ll toss it inna trunk a my car with all the other poor saps what messed with Boris Buttinski, see?”
“Sound advice, I'm sure,” said Emmanuel. “Now how about stepping back and joining ranks with the others on stage and let us all have a little fun.”
Emmanuel the Emancipator closed his eyes and wished for this night to be over. Boris Buttinski was becoming a cog in his, ordinarily, smooth movin’ wheel.
If he thinks he’ll be tossing my skull in the trunk of anyone's car. thought Emmanuel, he’s got another thing coming. It's time to work my magic.