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vanillalime) wrote2016-12-08 09:00 am
vanillalime) wrote2016-12-08 09:00 am
OZ Advent, Day 8: Poet's Carols
Poet's Carols
Poet turned up the volume on the kitchen radio. He got busy and began peeling the potatoes in time with the Christmas carol the station was playing. At first, he hummed along to the music, then he eventually broke out into his own version of the song…
Jingle bells,
Vern’s carcass smells,
As Robson laid a spoon.
The deal was sealed
by Keller's feels,
and Beecher got away!
Don Zanghi groaned as he delivered another pan of potatoes to Poet.
"Not one of your better efforts," he informed Poet. "The Joker and Beecher are, like, two completely different people."
"Hey, sorry, man, I can’t hit a home run every time," Poet snapped. Waving his peeler in the air, he added, "Great artists create when they’re inspired, and worry 'bout the quality later."
"Yo!" yelled Pancamo from behind them. "If I were you guys, I’d be fucking worried about gettin’ those potatoes peeled."
As Zanghi quickly retreated, Poet added loudly over his shoulder, "And, obviously, your sorry ass wasn't here when Beecher went crazy and thought he could fly better’n Batman."
Muttering a string of four-lettered words, Poet turned back around and grabbed another potato. The radio station changed songs, and he altered his rhythm accordingly. Before long, he was improvising another set of lyrics to the music…
Cream-styled corn,
and crisp chicken nuggets.
Fresh produce and real juice,
and meat free of maggots.
Veggies deep-fried
like greasy onion rings.
These are a few of my favorite things!
As he finished, Zanghi strolled by and loitered at his side again.
"That ain’t even a real Christmas song," Zanghi complained. "That’s from some lame musical, like My Fair Lady or something. They shouldn’t even be playin’ it."
Suddenly, Zanghi’s head bounced forward as Pancamo smacked it from behind. Zanghi turned around, his mouth open wide, and stared at him in surprise.
"If Tony fucking Bennett sings that song on his fucking Christmas album, it’s a fucking Christmas song," Pancamo declared.
Then Pancamo reached across the kitchen counter and turned the radio off with a snap. "Now get back to work, both of yous," he commanded.
Pancamo began walking away, but paused briefly to add over his shoulder, "And you’d have to be a moron not to know that that song is from West Side Story."
Poet turned up the volume on the kitchen radio. He got busy and began peeling the potatoes in time with the Christmas carol the station was playing. At first, he hummed along to the music, then he eventually broke out into his own version of the song…
Jingle bells,
Vern’s carcass smells,
As Robson laid a spoon.
The deal was sealed
by Keller's feels,
and Beecher got away!
Don Zanghi groaned as he delivered another pan of potatoes to Poet.
"Not one of your better efforts," he informed Poet. "The Joker and Beecher are, like, two completely different people."
"Hey, sorry, man, I can’t hit a home run every time," Poet snapped. Waving his peeler in the air, he added, "Great artists create when they’re inspired, and worry 'bout the quality later."
"Yo!" yelled Pancamo from behind them. "If I were you guys, I’d be fucking worried about gettin’ those potatoes peeled."
As Zanghi quickly retreated, Poet added loudly over his shoulder, "And, obviously, your sorry ass wasn't here when Beecher went crazy and thought he could fly better’n Batman."
Muttering a string of four-lettered words, Poet turned back around and grabbed another potato. The radio station changed songs, and he altered his rhythm accordingly. Before long, he was improvising another set of lyrics to the music…
Cream-styled corn,
and crisp chicken nuggets.
Fresh produce and real juice,
and meat free of maggots.
Veggies deep-fried
like greasy onion rings.
These are a few of my favorite things!
As he finished, Zanghi strolled by and loitered at his side again.
"That ain’t even a real Christmas song," Zanghi complained. "That’s from some lame musical, like My Fair Lady or something. They shouldn’t even be playin’ it."
Suddenly, Zanghi’s head bounced forward as Pancamo smacked it from behind. Zanghi turned around, his mouth open wide, and stared at him in surprise.
"If Tony fucking Bennett sings that song on his fucking Christmas album, it’s a fucking Christmas song," Pancamo declared.
Then Pancamo reached across the kitchen counter and turned the radio off with a snap. "Now get back to work, both of yous," he commanded.
Pancamo began walking away, but paused briefly to add over his shoulder, "And you’d have to be a moron not to know that that song is from West Side Story."