DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
JD
44
See title for long forms…
The scene: The not cheaply furnished offices of the American Donkeys Abroad headquarters in Kyiv. Grecian Formula 44, or El Greco to his confidants, or Rico Soiree to the general public, or Grease Ball to his detractors, or… (you get the point) is seated in a dark-blue business suit in a genuine leather armchair behind a king-sized mahogany desk reading a fresh edition of the Kyiv Poster, which features a front-page advertisement, replete with a cheesy photo of 44, for his start-up Ukrainian business venture – the Silver School of English.
Knock, knock…
44: Come in.
JD: Howdy, Greco (steps in wide-eyed and turkey-necked). I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by to fill you in on interest in our annual American Donkeys Abroad Christmas party…
44: It’s Rico, and I’m afraid that I am a bit busy here, uh, whoever you are…?
JD: Josh, Josh Davies, but you can call me Josh, or heck just about anything you want except late for dinner – yuck, yuck…
44: (releases a toothy smile while still sizing up the saggy-assed old man who has shown up at his office without an invitation)… Yes, yes, indeed, so why don’t you just leave…
JD: Well, heck, like I was saying, we’ve seen quite a bit of support for this. I personally took the lead in sending out a chain mail over the Internet. You have to get on these people’s backs, as they are about as lazy and bullheaded as…
44: As you (pauses significantly and strokes his immaculately groomed goatee, which only yesterday was given a fresh coat of Grecian Formula 44 Special Edition for Serious Gentlemen) can see, I’m quite busy, so maybe you had better just leave the results with that lovely young lady who serves as my secretary…
JD: Haw, haw, haw. I see. Well, you may not know it, Greco, but I…
44: It’s Rico.
JD: Well Rico, as I was saying, I too have a significant other – blonde and also a real looker as you might have guessed, whom I had the good fortune of marrying over a decade ago, and who has provided me with only the fondest…
44: (clearly irritated) Listen here, mister, that bimbo in the reception whom you slipped past on your way to interrupting my reading and whom I hired as a secretary exclusively on the basis of her big tits and indifference to being pawed at work…
JD: Well, behind every great man is a woman. That’s what I always say. And please call me Josh, which is my name after all, Greco, er Rico. Anyway, about that Christmas party, I did run into one particular invitee, who I must say put a damper on what you and I both know should be a festive…
44: (teeth now really showing, as if he’s about to take a crap right in the armchair) All right, that will be enough now…
JD: (looks up at the ceiling, so as not to acknowledge 44’s crocodile smile) His name is Dirk Dickerson, and he can be about as anti-social as they get… (noticing 44’s eyes grow big and face turn red, he gives full leave to his own hickory-studded but slippery tongue). Now I’ve known Dirk for some time, and he’s never been more than a malcontent. The only thing that puzzles me is why he hasn’t been picked up by the police as a danger to society and himself no less…
44: Dickerson… you know him? That maniac threatened to kick my ass in an email exchange last summer that… that was YOU who put him onto me; I remember now, you worthless shitkicker!
JD: Yes sir, I was the initiator of that email invitation to the American Donkeys Abroad barbecue that Dirk went off on you in. My sole intention was to gauge…
44: (smiling, teary-eyed and angry all at the same time) I ought to put my foot up your saggy ass, if I could find it in those denim drapes that you call pants. Josh Davies… now I remember. You and your fuckin’ stupid chain mails. Why did you feel the need to invite that nut in the first place? For that matter, who invited YOU?! Do you even have an occupation? How did you get my email? I had to hire a guard outside the Silver School of English, after Welsh Losser told me that Dickerson had tried to murder him on Mikhailivsky Square in 2004…
JD: Now, just hold your horses there, Greco. Yes, I said Greco and meant it this time. You’re no mystery to me, mister. I’ve been involved with the American Donkeys Abroad for some years now – long before you washed up on these shores from New Jersey. That’s right! I know your background, and one or two other less pleasant details about you that aren’t exactly highlighted in those A3 glossy ads that you’ve been putting in the Kyiv Poster. How did I get your email? I got it, and let’s leave it at that. Yes indeed, I have an occupation, Greco, El Greco, or however else you want to be called. Let’s just say I’m a business person, and my business is not far from what you do?
44: You’re an English teacher?
JD: No, and neither are you, Mr. Pasta and Pork Chops, or whatever you people eat on the East Coast. Quite frankly, I don’t give a hoot, and never did until you started muscling in on my business in Kyiv. That’s right – business!
44: You mean…?
JD: Yes – the underground Viagra trade among elderly Kyiv expats (drum roll and crashing of cymbals).
44: What’s your game, old man?
JD: For starters, stop calling me old man. My pecker gets just as hard as yours, thanks to the goods I’ve been bringing in through Turkey.
44: Who do you work with? Is Dickerson your boy?
TO BE CONTINUED
Filed by Dirk Dickerson, March 4, 2013