Home > Funny Stories by Dick Oakes > Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

October 16, 2015 Leave a comment Go to comments
Dick Oakes, Jr.

Dick Oakes, Jr.

Dr. Yothers was staring at my shins. The light outside grew dim.

“Just marvelous, just absolutely a marvelous sort of thing!” he said finally. He seemed really god damn happy about it. “The sores are completely healed.”

I rolled down my pants.

“Yep, Doc. Now it’s my back though.”

For a moment, he looked like he was going to cry. He was disappointed as all hell. I couldn’t figure on any of it.

“Oh…no…well, I suppose we can find something in the drawer!”

He pulled the drawer straight out of his desk and plopped it down hard on his lap.

“You remember the drawer?” he asked, his head cocked, waiting for the answer. I didn’t give him nothing.

He rummaged through the drawer loudly. It was excessive. He was humming some senseless song. I watched a small hot air balloon fly straight into a billboard on top of one of the nearby skyscrapers. The sound shook the room.

“Whoa ho!” Dr. Yothers called out. “Those people are dead.” He suddenly grew somber and reflective.

Then: “Try these Mr. Oates.”

It was a vial of red capsules. The name on the label read “Rudy Ferguson”. I had never heard of the pharmacy. The expiration date had long since passed.

“Those should ease your pain right away Mr. Oafs. Yes, yes, indeed. You will soon have a back that is limber and lissome.”

I nodded.s-l1600

“YOU’LL BE SOON LIFTING ONE OF THOSE BIG BARBELLS,” he half-screamed. I looked back over to the skyscraper. A big fire had erupted. The upper floor was engulfed in flames. The skeleton of the burned-out balloon was about to tip over the edge, fall 30 stories down into the street. Who knew what the hell to make of it? I huffed it out of there.

I guess I had taken the pills at some point but I don’t remember much after that. When I woke up, it was dark and I was lying in a motel room by the ocean. I somehow made it over to the window and opened the curtains. The big neon sign was right out front– “THE CLOUD. ENJOY THE CONTINENTAL ROOM FOR ALL-LANKVILLIAN ENTERTAINMENT. WE HAVE KING SIZE BEDS. THERE IS CABLE TELEVISION. SUPPORT OUR PRESIDENT”.

I looked down at the salmon-colored carpet. There was no merit to it.

After awhile, I dressed and wobbled out to the lobby. There was an Island guy in a suit staring straight forward. Some tinkly piano music played over a fuzzy intercom. It was all senseless.

“Where’s the Continental Room?” I asked.

He looked at me. “It’s closed for the season.”

“Yeah? What about some packaged goods? Now, where can a guy get any packaged goods?”

“This is a dry county, Sir. Pondicherry’s orders.”

I kicked the front of the paneled counter lightly but ended up putting my foot straight through it.

The Islander leaned over. “Well, that will require some maintenance.”

I was still pretty lit. “How about some company? Where can I get some company? You got any corn-fed girls in this dry county of yours? Any of them big folksy girls?”

He was still staring at the big hole in the paneling.

“Huh?  Any of them big naturals?”

He looked around. The lobby was dark and empty.

“I’ll slip something under your door,” he whispered. “Go back to your room.”

I figured on the Islander coming up with something good so I put on the cable and kept an eye on the carpet in front of the door. There was some show on about some people on a big boat. They were all tanned and happy and they wanted everybody else to be happy. There was a guy in a red suit that had some hand gestures that everybody seemed to like. The studio audience went god damn nuts whenever he made ’em. Who knew what the hell to do with it?

A card slid under the door. I could hear the Islander’s footsteps retreating down the causeway.


There was no number listed. I huffed it back to the lobby.

The Islander was gone and the lights had been put out. Some tape had been put over the hole in the counter. There was a little sign that read, “HELP YOURSELF”. The tinkly piano music had switched over to upbeat patriotic anthems. I had the feeling I was being watched.

I left the card on the counter and walked out into the night.

  1. No comments yet.
  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: