Day CXCIII

Hellen of Harold

     “Really!”

     “Dat blind modafacker…he hee heee,” he cackled as he rubbed his hands together.

     “So what happened?”

     “Ah we haggled for about twenny minutes. He offered me a hunet an fity fo it. But I tol im me old granny don ga it ta me, an it had lots, an lots a senimental value tameee, ya na.”

     “Ya facking dawwwg!”

     “Hey man I hada git me money back, dude.”

     “So what happened”

     “He offad me three hunet, and I sez I hates ta pat widit, man. Then he walks round da sto, an makes like he be looking fo somepen, an shit ya na. Finally he sez tamee, I gi ya fo hunet, and det’s it take or leave it, I gots thangs tadoo, man.”

    “Red, ain’t he ya friend, ya pal, ya bud…ya bwa man?”

    “Fo hunet! Man, fo hunet dude…why Oi don doubled me money. It bidness, ya na…it be all it T I is, dude- bidness.”

     “So what happened?”

     “Ehhh, he don ran outa hea widit…he wuz happiah than a hoe widda senatah in an alley, man. Sed he hadda go find heself a giftbox.”

     Sometimes women don’t know well enough to leave things alone. A gift is a gift, and after all isn’t it the thunk that counts? A man gives his beloved a really nice gift, and she starts to wonder how much it’s worth…how much did he spend on it.  Well Harold’s wife wondered long and hard about it, and a day or two later took it to an appraiser.

     Again, Gus just happened to be visiting Red when…

     “Ring ring rinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng!”

     “Hullo, who diz?” Red answered the phone.

     “Hi this is Ms…is Red da?’ A sweet, sexy, feminine voice asked.

     “Da one an ony hea sweety!!” He cooed.

     “Well this is Helen, you know who I am, and I just found out how much that piece a shit you sold him is worth.”