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T h u n d e r - - -P e r f e c t -- - -H o u s e

David Caplan

Choking Mrs. Greensleeves

by (a loopy) David Caplan

His view was of a chastened window. Froth on his lip as he looked out of his window on the world. Death in his eye. He ground the insect under his heel and realized it was his cat, no... it was an insect. But he wished it was the cat... friggen piss machine. No he didn't he loves that cat, almost as much as himself. Now he is stepping on himself. Staring out the window, telling himself how much he just hates himself, but loves his cat. He loves the view as he sails off into his view... thirteen stories down to a horrible death, but the view was nice. No wait, he just thinks he throws himself out of the window... maybe he through the cat. No wait. Maybe he never rose from his bed where he has been lying in his own piss and shit since his depression struck him dumb with fear of leaving his bed, three months ago. No... heÕs all right, the view is nice. And its time for work. "HeÕs just so over dramatic. Jimmy kisses his squished cat, slices his wrists and heads out into his view felling refreshed, and very dead as he hits the ground. No wait... thatÕs dead tired as he goes back to bed, tired from that view of the flowers and nice Mrs. Greensleeves in her tight pink blouse...fuckin horrible things, if you ask him. Quickly he runs back and dives into bed. Thinking of Mrs. Greensleeves hooties and her Blowfish, and he chokes the pope... No wait, he chokes his cat who caught him choking his pope... No wait, the Pope showed up in his view, flying on little pink wings made of the same stuff as Mrs. Greensleeves tight pink sweater, and caught him choking his own pope, so the guy through himself out the window, grabbing the pope, and choking, both the real pope, and his own pope, as he nodded to Mrs. Greensleeves, looking down her blouse, just before he hit the pavement and died... horribly... In bed. He and Mrs. Greensleeves were doin the dirty, after she returned his cat he let out the door so she would bring it back... same way she did every Tuesday when her husband, Mr. Greensleeves was at work late. She tried to choke his pope, but he failed... the pope wouldn'tÕt rise for mass... or he had a massive coronary, as she removed her sweater, and Mrs. Greensleeves was really the Pope in drag... AHHHHHH! ÔOops, wait, strike that, Mrs. Greesleeves is just wearing one of those new push-up bras that look like two big popes hats...Phew. So back to now choking her popes...hats...and his. Over all this morning is turning out to be quite a religious experience... canÕt wait till lunch. "Hey...?" "Ya?" "Nice view" "Well, we could enjoy it more if the pope would get the hell out of the way of the window." "All right.. IÕll choke im faster." "Thank you... is it lunch yet." "How can you eat lunch when you are plummeting out of a window... choking your pope?Õ "I thought you were choking..." "I am... your cat gave me damn hairballs..." "Fuckin cat... should have squished that bug when I had the chance." "Hey... IÕm the cat, asshole, and if ya keep talkin like that IÕm not goin to choke your pope no more... Meow." "Oh, sorry Mrs. Greesleeves. Did I buy you that sweater?" "No, it came with the wings.."