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

Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

By Dick Oakes, Jr.

By Dick Oakes, Jr.

It was evening. The crazy old broad had called my room at the Murray. I was about halfway to a drunk.

“A guy came down from the north, an important client,” she said. “Bring your case.”

She hung up. I sat there a minute and then Tibbs came on the line.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! ARE YOU DONE WITH THE LINE, MR. OATES?”

“Yeah, Tibbs. Take it.”

I splashed some water on my face and straightened my tie. I went out the staircase.

There was a couple crossing the back parking lot– big blonde guy, football player type, and a tiny redhead with a complicated sculpted hairdoo.

“Hey, lookit’ that guy would you Cindy? His head looks like a grey egg!”

I put down the case full of towel samples and went straight over to him. As I did, I could see it in his eyes– he was chickenshit.

“Say that again, dandelion.”

He paused and then he puffed his chest. “You wanna’ fight mister- you’re going to get killed.”

“Let’s go.”

He threw a wild haymaker that clipped my left shoulder. I threw a quick jab that landed square on the nose. There was a squishy sound and then the blood came running.

“Oh, Brad!” the redhead said.

I started to move in for an uppercut and the next thing I knew, Tibbs’ big body was between us. He was laughing.s-l1600

“HAHAHAHAHA, oh, there’s no need for VIOLENCE!” he boomed. He pushed us each a few steps backward. “HAHAHAHAHA, why anything CAN BE WORKED OUT!”

Suddenly, his face grew somber. “Except during the finality, when you will meet Satan’s pony.”

There was a long pause. I couldn’t make anything of it.

I drove over to the Towels by the Pound shop feeling pretty good. I cracked open a FUN BEER and took the slow way.

The crazy broad was waiting for me along with some delicate-looking dandy. I parked the car up on the side lawn.

“This is Mr. Oakes, our lead salesman,” she said.

The guy had a little limp handshake.

“Whyn’t we go inside?” I said.

“No, no, no, I would prefer to do business right here,” the dandy replied. I didn’t see no merit in it but I held the sample case open for him in the dull sunlight.

“Well, these are certainly inferior,” he said, after fingering a few cuts of towel. “But, I suppose they will do for my project. After all, we’re only building a series of training program food huts.”

“How wonderful,” the old broad said. She was wobbling a little– probably had already tied one on.

“Send along a thousand,” he said. He took an envelope from his inside jacket pocket. It was stuffed with crisp bills.”

“Mr. Oakes will have them sent tomorrow.”

He disappeared. It was just in time. I vomited into some tall grass.

The old broad looked me up and down but didn’t say nothing. Then she peeled off a couple of hundreds.

“Good work, Dick. You can have these as a bonus.”

I pictured a steak dinner at the Murray, couple of more tall boy sixers, maybe a new suit, a little ass. It would be a good night.

“Send them out tomorrow, now. Don’t forget.”

“It’s in the bag.”

I popped another FUN BEER in the car to celebrate.

She was alright, the towels by the pound shop owner.

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  1. oversion
    July 3, 2016 at 11:34 pm

    Seeing my old friend Dick Oak here on wordpress makes it worth it putting up with the crap. And good to know someone’s making a bit of money.

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