Thursday, March 23, 2006

frisbee


Fluffy was distraught. She wanted to play frisbee, but the way Billy held it up, it reminded her of Simon the Pieman on the corner of 5th and Pickett. Simon always used to turn the dough in the window, so proud of his Italian heritage, and his skill at evening out the crust by spinning it, manipulating it, caressing the viscous rawness of it all. Meanwhile, Fluffy would sneak in the side door and nose through the bowls of pepperoni, sausage and mozzarella. A veritable feast for a drifter. Then one day, the dog catcher came around and netted her. She sat in a chain-link prison for two weeks before reaching doggy death row. Pepe from the Humane Society came in and saw how fat she was. He knew she must've have been someone's prized pet. Pepe took her in, gave her shots, and put her in with the other dogs. Billy came in the very next day and adopted her. Now, Fluffy sits in the yard, dreaming of Simon the Really Into Himself and His Spinning Dough So Much That He Doesn't See a Stray Dog Eating His Profits Pieman.

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