"Man, it's sucking man, it's sucking to be me, you know?" So said administrative law judge Roy Pearson as he crept uneasily down the deserted Capitol Hill streets on a day when the temperature hovered near one hundred before the one o' clock hour had even been struck. "Man, if it wasn't August, man... somebody might see me. In my skivvies, man"
Yes, Judge Pearson was feeling the pressure on this horrid Washington, DC dog day afternoon, the type of pressure that can only be understood by a man about to lose the best damn job he's ever had at the same damn time he's attempting to deal with the loss of his damn pants.
"F... F... F ME," shouted Pearson, upon observing a quartet of policewomen walking his way on their way back from lunch. "Don't look at me ladies, don't look at me, cause I don't have no pants on!" Sadly, his warning went unheeded as the four women proceeded to surround his boney ass.
"Yo judge. I heard that you were crazy and I clearly see your nuts," said the first officer on the scene, sending the others into a fit of spasmodic laughter. The cruel taunts of 'misdewiener' continued to ring in Pearson's ears as they continued their walk back to the station house.
"Satisfaction guaranteed, that's what they told me, man," muttered Pearson, still obsessing on his many months of futile battle against the diabolical duo of Soo and Jin Chung and the monolithic corporate power of Custom Cleaners. "Do I look as if I am the least little tiny bit satisfied with the way my life has turned out, wandering without trousers through the concrete jungle of unemployment? No sir, I most assuredly am not. Still, I did get a Wikipedia entry. And a guest shot on Montel..."
©2007. Mark Hoback