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Miles Sphinctersnap
and the Applesauce Fart
By: G Wayne
Copyright © 9/7/11
"I couldn't. Honest, Mr. Sphinctersnap, The door was locked; I was scared and needed to take a poop real bad. You know what that means.

"Ya, being scared when you got'a take a dump can be tuff," I agreed.

"My eyes were watering and my behind was puckering. It was shameful; I thought the sink was the toilet."

"Did you take a dump in the sink! You disgust me." I huffed.

"Let the man tell the story, Miles, you insensitive shit," Goldie suggested.

"Thank you, Ms. Goldie, bless you. The room started to spin; faster and faster and I became woozy. Then there was a bright flash. I thought it was the lord coming to take me home. Or maybe it was the match I lighted to clear the fumes caused an explosion-I don'know, Mr. Sphinctersnap; I just don't know. Then it happened, the smell got even more intense. It changed; it changed into pure evil that reached into my nose and dug its scaly talons into my brain, twisting and ripping until the pain scorched and ate at my soul. And then there was a worse smell; it was the most disgusting and humiliating experience anyone could imagine."

"Worse than working for Sphinctersnap?"

"Worse than anything, Goldie, it was like bowel movement and rotting meat, but there was also a sickeningly sweet quality to it. That was the worst of all. It smelled like; it smelled like . . . " Sequet put his head in his hands and moaned. Snot ran from his nose and dripped to the floor.

"What did it smell like?"

"Yes, what did it smell like, Harvey?" Goldie asked while inspecting her nails.

Placing the back of his wrist to his forehead as if the memory caused him pain, he called out in a theatrical voice, "It smelled like . . . like an applesauce fart."

Goldie and I exchanged a glance.

"He's daffy as a doughnut, I tell ya."

"Oh, Miles, the man's mentally disordered," she said.

"That he is, sweet cheeks."

"Don't make me shove my new shoe up your ass," Goldie cautioned.

"Will you wiggle your toes?"

"Eat shit, Sphinctersnap."

"Please, I'm trying to tell a story here. This has nothing to do with your petty differences," pleaded Harvey.

I looked at Goldie and she frowned back. "Look at us," I said, "a guy with no feelings and a dame without a heart. We make a great pair, don't we, sugar tits?"

"Call me 'Sugar tits again, an' I'll fuck you up big time . . . sweetie," she said, ending with a smiling head bob.

I considered that, and then turned my attention back to Sequet. "An applesauce fart, eh-Mr. Sequet . . . Harvey, what does a guy like you think he could get from a guy like me?"

"I think this is all a setup, Mr. Sphinctersnap. No matter how it looks or sounds, there is someone behind this. People are trying to kill me and keep me thinking about them. They're trying to annoy me to . . . to death. I know you can figure it out, Mr. Sphinctersnap, tell me it's true."

"Harvey, I'm not gon'a kid ya. You spread this story around and they'll put you on the next train to the Who-ha house. You get the meat of what I'm sayin'? From now on, I don't want you talking to no one about this, see. If you have anything to say; you can talk to Goldie, and only on the phone, and only in Chinese."

"But I don't know Chinese."

"You don't . . . well then, use pig Latin. Just do not tell anyone else, or it's the Head Zoo, get me!"

"Yes, Mr. Sphinctersnap, I'll get a book on Pig Latin today."

"I don't want this asshole calling me up all the time," said Goldie.

I looked cross-eyed at Goldie and re-lighted a cigar I had been chewing on. "I do pay you to answer the phone."

"I answer it, plenty."

"You don't do anything plenty."

"I work for a guy who's plenty full of shit. Does that count?"

"You talk pretty tough for someone that has more hair on her legs than a Clydesdale."

"A puss-filled boil has more charm than you."

"You should be scooting that mouth on the carpet."

"Didn't they model Good & Plenty after your tiny weenie, Sphinctersnap?"

"Just take the man's message if I ain't around, and treat him with respect. Save your rat-ass personality for getting it on in the alley."

Goldie pulled her 38 and shot. She missed me, but the lobe of Harvey's ear disappeared with a spray of blood.

"Now why did you go and do that, Goldie?" I asked.

"There was a fly on it; and besides, you pissed me off."

"Hey, my ear is bleeding. I need to go to the hospital!"

"What? Let me see that." I took a big magnifying glass from my desk and held it in front of Harvey's ear. "That's nothing," I said and then grabbed the ear and gave it a jerk.

"Ouch!" Harvey yelped, "Stop that, I need to go to the hospital."

I sized things up then said, "Those ambulance services are a scam. I'll call you a cab?" I grabbed Harvey's half-empty coffee cup and dumped it on the floor. "Here, bleed in this, your ruining your shirt." I handed him the cup then mustered a half-assed smile and handed Sequet a roll of Life Savers. "You need to tough this out, and don't worry about a thing, that earlobe will grow back in no time."

"Those stains will never come out of that carpet." Goldie remarked.

"You got a nerve; you're the one that shot him."

"Shut your yap, it was a mistake." She turned to Sequet, "I'm sorry Harvey." Then she turned back to me, "I still have bullets left, want one?"

"What are you, a femme pain-in-the-ass?" I returned my attention to Sequet, "Harvey, can you hear me?"

"Mr. Sphinctersnap, this cup is overflowing. I think I'm getting woozy from loss of blood."

"Before the ambulance gets here (I mean the taxi) can you think of anyone that doesn't like you? I mean, beside Goldie and me?"

"No, maybe having a piece of my ear shot off has affected my memory, but I can't think of anyone else."

"Goldie, please hand Mr. Sequet there, a wastebasket. Now, Harvey, I want you to forget about that scratch on your noggin for a second, and ah, cogitate on anyone that might benefit from you taken' a snooze in the great beyond."

"I don't know, Mr. Sphinctersnap, not many people even talk to me. Say . . . wait a minute, there was a very strange realtor that wanted to buy a dusty piece of land in the desert that I inherited from my uncle. He and the people with him were dressed in robes like a religious cult. When I refused to sell, he was extremely hurt. I thought they were just more eco-freakos. It was odd, before leaving they all made the sign of the cross and then gave me the finger . . . in unison!"

"That could be a con," said Goldie.

"Sounds like Bunko to me," I agreed.

"No, I'm telling the truth," said Harvey.

I glanced at Goldie, "Eco-freako?"

She leaned toward me, "I don't know what it means either," she whispered.

"That's wonderful," I said, "You got a name, or know somethin' else on this guy?"

Sequet's eyes began to roll back into his head I gave him a shake. Harvey's head fell and bounced on the table as the blood-filled wastebasket dropped to the floor.

"I think his name was Jehovah Pawnshop," Sequet gurgled. "No . . . Jesus Loanshark. Why can't I remember? If only my head didn't hurt so much and my vision wasn't woozy. Oh, oh, Mr. Sphinctersnap, Yahweh Banker, his name was Yahweh Banker!"

"No way," I exclaimed.

Harvey lifted his head, "I said Yahweh." He then passed out.

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