"JUST MY IMAGINATION"
“It is not an overstatement to say, our keynote speaker tonight is the foremost expert in galactic criminal security. It is not hyperbolic to add, he is perhaps the most prolific writer in literary history, with over 800 million books sold. It was Moe McMickelschitz, who invented the molecular thingamajig that transports state and federal prisoners directly into the sun as appropriate, immediately subsequent to sentencing.” “Another?” “Huh, oh yeah, give us all one.” The bartender fetched another bottle of beer for Moe and a round for the others. The accolades and standing ovation were coming from the mirror on the back bar. A man, Melvin Jones, walked in the front door, maskless and said, “hey Moe, how ‘bout dem Browns?” The rules were clear;unless both buttocks are firmly attached to a seating surface, a mask must be worn. Thus, Jimmy the bartender shot Melvin in the head with a 44 from behind the bar. A hazmat crew reported from the backroom and sanitized the area, DNA clean. In reality, Melvin sat next to Moe and congratulated him on the Brown’s victory.
Karen, was an attorney, on the fifty third floor of the Grady building. Sitting first chair in a murder trial last week, during a sidebar was summoned to the judge’s chambers, where the judge and prosecutor both had their way with her. She never reported the attack in the hopes of not making ‘waves’. Poor Karen could hardly go a day without being accosted. The weatherman on the cable channel, a traffic cop, a random man on the street. Ironically, the drama provided a jump start to her otherwise mundane existence as a tax attorney, working out of the sewing room in her mother’s house.
Where I’m going with this, is the value of imagination. McMickelschitz’s tale is much more engaging than the reality. And who really gives a fat rat’s ass that Karen, in a murky gray area of tax preparation and living on the edge, got her sister an extra $300.00 in her tax return? That she furthers her fantasies in an undercover manner, is much more riveting.
I know about imaginations because I am an accomplished author. You can hardly ever hear the names of Stephan King or James Patterson without W.J. King being included. When accepting the Pulitzer Prize last year...well would you rather hear about my fat ass in a recliner, wrestling with Monday’s crossword puzzles and losing?