CCXXXVIII

The ShowDay

    Home Video was the sponsor, and since I had been a good customer they gave me a discount. I didn’t know but it seems the mob controlled the union there, and if you wanted anything done, you had to let them do it. Two days before the show, I had some pals come over and help me build a set for our presentation. We toiled well into the evening, and were almost kicked out because they needed to close up. When I came in the morning to check things out, all of our work had been trashed, destroyed. I complained to the sponsor, and they went and got maintenance. Who told us,

     “Da wuz nutin da!”

     “Duh, we don na nutin!”

     “Bull shit, I was up late putting up dat display last nite.”

     “Uh, ya calling me a liah!” A big gorilla threateningly asked.

     “Facking A, if da shoe fits!”

     “Dude watch your language!” The representative scolded.”

     “Fack em! I worked my ass off to put dat up last nite, an these modafackers toah it down!”

      “Ya cain’t prove we did it!”

      “Ahhhhhh so ya did doodit!”

     “Abab ba ba ba!”

     “Look man I’m a small guy trying ta make a buck, hea. How da hell am I supposed ta dodet, when youses come hea gouging me? Go stick it to GE, Sony, Sanyo or any a doze guys. Leave us liddle guys da fack alone, man.”

     “Well…it union policy, we do alla woik hea.”

     “Wat and I cain’t do my own woik…diz da soviet union, hea?”

     “Yea, diz America!” Somebody shouted.

     “Scweu da goons!”

    A large crowd had gathered, and the Video representative was embarrassed by my language, but I was really steamed.