Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Eddie



About those bloodstains... I can explain.

My cousin Eddie - I told you about him - he's.. well, not challenged, not disturbed, how should I put it? He's a retard. A pure D fruitcake. And a rube to boot. All in all, he's one hinky hick. But Eddie has a cosmopolitan genius living in his brain. Elliot. Elliot P. Sanderson. Known to take over Eddie's persona at the whim of a hat. (Note to self: credit George.) During a recent Eddie-to-Elliot transformation, Elliot flew to New York City and conned his way into the office of Donald Trump. Talked the Donald into liquidating some frozen annuities and presto! There's "Elliot P. Sanderson' on a door to a rather lavish office. What followed is seen here on this film. Roll the footage, please.

That's Elliot shaking hands with Trump. Here he's leaving Trump Towers and getting into a limo. Now here's Eddie getting out. Eddie, not Elliot. See the eyes crossed? He shields them with his hands and gazes up, slack jawed in wonder at the sheer immensity of it all. Fast forward through the elevator ride. Here's Eddie entering Elliot's office, playing with the paper clips and rubber bands, sitting in the wastebasket. Due to time constraints I've condensed four weeks into a minute and a half. It's a bit of a blur, but slow it down and you'd see Elliot addressing the shirts in the boardroom, Eddie goosing his secretary, Elliot signing a 72 million dollar contract, Eddie tending his moonshine still, Elliot dining with Trump at Alain Ducasse, Eddie drinking with a bum in an alley. You get the picture.

In time, Elliot amassed a tidy sum to fall back on and Eddie fell back on it. A coupla racehorses, a helicopter, countless trips to DisneyWorld. The marble drawer in the next room was one of the last investments EddieElliot made. That and the mobile meth lab. It all endly badly, with the call to the boardroom, the trumplashing and the requisite security envoy out of the building. Then it was off to Hooterville for Eddie while Elliot departed for who knows where; Ibiza, Marseilles..

What's that you say? You want to know about bloodstains? I hear lemon juice and vinegar works.

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