Thursday, January 05, 2006
Draft #37
The Legendary Stories of John Ostowski- Liver Slayer Extraordinaire
Legend has it that John Ostowski once ripped the boot off of a homeless person and filled it with whiskey right in front of the bewildered street bum's eyes. With the boot full of whiskey in hand, John challenged this lowly vagabond to run around the block and if upon his return, the boot of whiskey was not completely drank in full, John offered to give the man a crisp one hundred dollar bill. But, if John DID drink the entire boot of whiskey before the homeless man returned, then not only would the homeless man NOT receive the one hundred dollars, but John would be allowed to deliver one crushing blow to the homeless man's kidney.
The old bum, weak from many cold and starving nights on the street, began dreaming of all the wonderful things he could buy with a hundred dollars. Soon visions of hot apple pie and candied gum drops started dancing through his weary head, and the old man was filled with many warm thoughts. Gus, as the old man is referred to, hasn't had an offer like this since he was forced to the streets and he couldn't think of a reason not to take John's challenge. But then Gus got to thinking. Having spent years on the street, Gus was privy to all the deceit and shady underhandedness this world had to offer, and something started to smell fishy to Gus, and for once it wasn't his underwear.
"Wait a second young fellow, how will I know upon my return, that you actually drank the whiskey and didn't just pitch it down the sewer?" John, a street savy minded person himself, knew that Gus was a desperate man and that he would do almost anything for a hundred dollars. John became furious with Gus's line of questioning and declared, "Since you doubted me old man, you've just bought yourself a second blow to the kidney if I am successful!" Gus was so excited about the possibility of a free one hundred dollars that he totally underestimated what a blow to the kidney would do from a man of John's intimidating 6'4'' stature. And now that the stakes were raised to two punches, Gus started to worry about what this physical punishment might do to a weak elderly man like himself, he surely wouldn't last the winter with two very badly bruised kidneys, one maybe, but not two.
But Gus was still up to the challenge, and he knew no man, no matter how tall in stature, or how defined a jawline, could possibly drink that much whiskey in such a short amount of time. So with one boot, Gus started on his way, brisk at first but eventually the years caught up to Gus and his meager pace was reduced to a pathetic limp thanks to the old war injury he sustained.........in the war. But Gus was a determined old hoot, and he finally turned that last corner and he could see in the distance that John was still suckling from the rim of the boot so maybe, just maybe old Gus had a chance. Suddenly Gus's limp burst into a gear that could almost be considered a jogging pace and John became impressed that the old man had made it back so soon.
Gus was within twenty yards of the finish line and noticed John was holding the boot at his side, no longer drinking. Gus approached John and stood quietly, eager with anticipation to see if John had actually finished the entire boot of whiskey. He was scared to ask John if the whiskey was all gone in fear of angering the beastly figure. John just stood statuesque, staring Gus right in the eye with a very cold expression and in that moment, he raised the boot to his mouth and finished the last swallow. Gus leaped in the air swinging his arms in wild excitement for the victory was his.
"Wahoo, I did it, you owe my one hundred dollars!"
John wiping mouth with forearm, "The hell I do old man."
Gus, "But I won, I made it around the block and I just saw you finish the last swallow."
John, "No you didn't."
Gus, "YES, I did."
John, "You calling me a liar." "Cause I ain't no liar!" And before Gus could respond, John grabbed him by his tattered rags and dragged his ass to the back of a nearby alley and beat the living crap out of Gus. Gus pleaded for mercy but soon stopped resisting as the repetitive blows were too numerous to sustain. John made his way to the Pizza pub for a slice while Gus lay mangled and battered from his barehanded demise.
Nobody ever saw Gus again, not that anybody really knew who Gus was. John's whiskey boot tale has been passed down from years of story tellers and many people claim the legend is true. They say he finished the boot of whiskey minutes before old Gus ever turned that last corner and that John was just toying with him. Whatever the case may be, let it be known that the man loves his whiskey, and that he is NOT a dirty liar.
*This story is complete fiction. No hobos were murdered in the making of this entry and any similarities to the main character are strictly coincidental.
# posted by hucklebuck @ 8:33 AM 
Comments:
<< Home
A comment? I thought I'd never see the day again. I've been on a hell of a cold streak when it comes to comments. Thanks little brother. Looks like I'll have to cancel the toaster in the bathtub I had planned for tonight.
What I like best about the story is the name of the protagonist. John Ostowski, now there is a strong name. Christmas has lead to a decrease in readership across the land or the posting of comments at least. I can assure you though that we will all still be equally as bored at work in the new year.
Isn't it a shame when people read your blog and don't make comments. It's like being an avid viewer of public television and not contributing any money to the PBS pledge drives. Luckily for me, I don't watch PBS.
Please make the check out to Hucklebuck Enterprises for your T-shirt purchase. Please allow 9-12 years for delivery. We're still using the original Pony Express and they don't move as good as they used to. Half the delivery team is on their 3rd hip. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Please make the check out to Hucklebuck Enterprises for your T-shirt purchase. Please allow 9-12 years for delivery. We're still using the original Pony Express and they don't move as good as they used to. Half the delivery team is on their 3rd hip. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Thankfully El Grande doesn't fall into the non-commenter category. This guy has seen this blog through some of it's darkest moments, and is one of it's finest supporters.
Protagonist, that's a good one.
Post a Comment
Protagonist, that's a good one.
<< Home
