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The Fool Slayer stirred from his sleep, under the sidewalk overhang in front of the Nasty Rasta store and across the way from the Park where he and the other denizens had been rousted from the ruins of the abandoned CardBoard Inn, Inc. by order of the local municipality in order to further advance the interests of the Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc.
Shitass, the cat, had disappeared and was no where to be found.
The sidewalk and swales in front of where he lay, smelt at all times of the rotting leaves and rubbish which filled them as they emptied their discoloured and malodorous waters into once pristine streams and vales, barren now of any life or color except when Spring brought forth a mist of flowering shrubs overhanging waters where trout once ran.
The Fool Slayer reflected on the year past and how each day had narrowed the span of his future and increased the memories of his past….it was as though the present held less and less concern.
The year had started off with the traditional Tope Parade, Earthquakes, Immigration Raids and Bilko and the Boys providing highlight entertainment at the renowned NYB.
Opinions from learned authorities (and possibly hallucinogenic) predicting of a regime change in the name of ‘Nicaria’ and letters to the editor decrying State sponsored ‘impunity’ seemed to paint a further decline in Pura Vida….yet pairofdice seemed to be the promised land in comparison to ruined plans to export a similar model to the coast of Cartagena…even the Fool Slayer could have predicted that, for the boys down south ‘don’t play dat’.
The year progressed with reports of sex starved gringa cougars flocking pairofdice, pandemics that never were, drugged mongers, Gold Chained and Hawaiian Shirted Pilgrims waylaid, Tico Shit Pie and tourists vanishing.
Little Darlings left, came back, moved on and then did not move at all…in full circle.
Enterprising MPs expanded, rented rooms; things began easier and easier to buy, yet ironically impossible to sell as the Ponzi schemes of the Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc began to unravel.
Indeed, were it not for the vast amounts of discarded Chicken Sandwiches and remains of Spaghetti Feeds, the Fool Slayer would have starved.
All in all, it could have been worse, it could have been better…
The Fool Slayer kept his crown in his heart, not upon his head. Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones.
His crown was called content. A crown that seldom kings enjoy.
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The difference between a Sea Story and a Fairy Tale is that a Fairy Tale starts out 'Once Upon a Time..' and a Sea Story starts out 'This is no Shit...'
(export version only, some restrictions may apply, some assembly required, not valid where the sun don't shine...
if you live in the states of Poverty, Darkness or anywhere outside of The Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc...other rules may apply)
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