Bons modos

Olá, tudo bem?
Sim, bem, e você também?
É, também vou bem.

Ordem

Hoje de manhã o homem do sonho disse para eu não ir trabalhar. Depois do almoço ele disse para eu não ingerir qualquer comida comprada ou roubada recentemente em qualquer supermercado.

Amanhã este mesmo homem me disse para eu não deixar de assistir à televisão, às oito horas e um minuto da noite, no canal vinte e um. Um comunicado importante do governo seria transmitido ao vivo ao povo em todos os canais. Durante os comerciais do canal vinte e um passaria um frame horroroso, entre a propaganda do bebê que urina e do desenho falante.

Depois de amanhã, este homem disse que ligar a televisão em qualquer canal seria cilada. Na estação de rádio noventa e nove ponto dezessete todos, até o governo, ouviriam, às nove horas e dois minutos da noite, um grito agudo de clemência, um rabisco com voz.

Depois de depois de amanhã, o homem estalou os dedos e apontou o indicador para a porta da frente, dizendo que o homem do correio estaria armado e bateria na madeira da mesma maneira como é acostumado, porém estaria armado.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse para eu não sair de casa no período matutino a partir deste dia.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse que o futuro não existe.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse para eu não vestir nenhuma roupa e não sair de casa no período vespertino a partir deste dia. Preciso inspecionar a casa à procura de pragas caseiras e preciso preparar uma macarronada à bolonhesa.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse para eu sorrir. Preciso tirar meus dentes.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse para eu ligar para a minha ex-esposa e ameaçá-la de morte.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse para eu rir.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse para eu ignorar as vozes e fazer somente o que ele mandou, que é pegar o fórceps do sótão, das antiguidades do meu pai, e, sem roupas, sair da minha casa pela janela da frente e correr feito um grego. Preciso pular o muro e arrebentar a janela da entrada, subir as escadas e cuidar com os degraus, comer um excremento de rato do rodapé e fazer trabalho de parto na boca da minha ex-esposa de pijamas.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem disse que as pessoas vivem no passado. Outro homem martelou a mesa e disse que eu estava condenado a sofrer.

Amanhã deste dia, o homem não disse mais nada. Ele era barbado, cabeludo e magro.

Pedido

Estrela cadente,

Corte essa droga de céu

E caia na gente.

Jackpot

I’m wondering, what are the odds of that happening? Seriously, I had everything. Well, not everything, but very close to that. I told the badass looking – mannish for sure – tall man with the hairy chest to cash me up. Now I have all the crap minus ten pennies.

First of all, I’m in Tha House. Nuff said. Secondly, I’m pretty goddamn screwed.

There was me sitting there, ‘course, then the farmer, the mofo, a hot gal, a nerd gal and the badass looking tall man. The farmer is an ol’ bastard covered in shait. He was chewing tar or shait. He’d got it from among all the dirt of his fucked up pocket. He sure has a fucked up pocket. And cheeks. He wears a nifty though simple hat.

The mofo is a motherfucker. Nuff said.

The hot gal has these killer tatas. She’s a butterface. I’d got a boner back then. Now I feel like my dick’s gonna fly away pissing over everyone’s brain.

The nerd gal has fewer tits than me. Nevertheless, she’s awesome from above the shoulders line. But she lacks tits. What a buzzkill, god.

And the tall man is really tall. And badass. Lucky me he wasn’t playing along with the circus.

No wild cards, simple and classic game.

There was me happier than never for winning a huge amount of dough, thinking about smoking some pot. The hot gal was the dealer. Whilst she was dealing the cards, ‘course, I mooned over the idea of her entire weaponry in ma mouth. I don’t wanna close my eyes, every moment I spent with you is a moment I treasure and all this crap. The nice silicone bags.

I was the small blind. Everyone called the bet but the mofo. The mofo raised a little, then everyone but the nerd gal called cold. The nerd gal instantly folded, no crying call at all.

The hot gal’s perfect arms faced-up the flop, and there was the queen of spades, the jack of spades and the two of clubs. Everyone checked. But the mofo didn’t. The moron raised greatly the friggin’ pot. I called, yeah. The farmer and the remaining gal did too. The badass tall man was frozen solid, doing what he does the best: tacitly looking all the fucking cards of all the remaining fucking hands.

And so came the turn. A king of some shit suit.

Did I mention I had a pair of kings?

So, I raised. The gang called. The mofo raised. All the fuckers, including me, called. The nerd gal was annoyingly scratching her flat butt. The farmer was doing noises with his mouth, noises only farmers with tar or shait can do.

Henceforth, heads are gonna roll.

I was looking at my gorgeous bankroll when the river blew the crap outta the people’s mind. A fucking two, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, god. And now, simply as that, I’d got a full fucking house. I tried to keep my poker face, but god knows I ain’t gifted.

I began raising, everyone called and raised like nuts. The bimbo raised some times, the mofo another one, the farmer calling, mofo’s all in there, me fucking raising. We raised to infinity and beyond.

Now the showdown.

Firstly, me, thank you. I said “I have a full fucking house.”

The hot bimbo said she had an “ace high straight.”

The farmer had a set of twos and the mofo didn’t have a single piece o’ shit.

The nerdy shouted a high frequency yet brief mechanical wave, thank you.

When I was pulling the pot the farmer said “Kid. Stop that shit.” I looked closely to his deep dreary eyes, he spat and said “Now.” I laughed so much and said “Nice joke, grandpa.” He didn’t laugh. I bet he didn’t like the joke.

Then my balls dropped off.

The bastard had a packed deuce in his hands, leaving him with a quads. Kicking my arse. I was supposed to move my arms, when my skin was turning pale and my guts were doing their artwork. For the first time the badass looking man retreated from the farmer’s surroundings. That’s another way fear found to say hi.

I’ve got no money. Well, very close to that. And my hunger’s only getting bigger and deeper.

Good lord, mommy’s so gonna fuck me up.