‘Waves’ to start story
‘rash’ & ‘touch’ in body
Waves upon waves of depraved suit and tie lunchtime crunch-time ‘gotta meet the office deadline’ workers – all neat as a stick pin – departed en masse from the slave ship known as Metro Bus #222.
It was early morning – just a wee bit before 8 am. None the less, every single soul stepping off the gangplank wore the exact same rash ‘trust me for I can smile with the best of them’ foolish grin. That – right there – should be reason enough for any prospective client to embrace the precise equal and opposite desired reaction : by ‘not’ trusting any of them. For, who in their right mind is as bright and chipper at this early hour as the Big Dipper?
Salesmen of the latest and the greatest ‘new and improved’ ONLY $19.95 .. but WAIT .. gizmo or gadget. Doom and Gloom insurance salesmen preying on the fears and tears of the elderly and otherwise prone to worry. Stock and roll prognosticators spit shining their interpretation of the latest indicators. Will it go up? Down? All the way around. Either way, to confuse or confound, 10 somersets they’ll undertake on solid ground.
Fools on the hill – on the lam? – hiding their morals away in the jar just inside their office door jam. Just a touch to the right and under a poster of The Fab Four. The one, sadly, depicting what it claims is ‘the last photo of all 4 Beatles together.’
Maybe one day someone in the multi-colored crowd will notice the empty hypocrisy. As the police converge on his funny home after his latest funny caper. All singing … Big man, pig man ha ha charade you are … ‘they never gave you their money – all they gave you was their funny paper.’