Lousnik Pooper - part 3

     "Had a dog who liked to go out wearing a party hat and toot a noisemaker - its just something he did. People thought I was being mean; dog walkin 'round, rubberband grabbin the flesh on his little neck, pointy hat stickin sideways - damn it to hell - tootin that stupid whistle with the what'sis honkin in and out every step...." 
     Lou laughed, "He put it together himself! Seen the folks at the party doing it, he did, and took it up as a hobby!" I admit, there didn't seem to be a word of truth there. Pooper saw it on my face.
     "That's what the folks on the street thought too. So I'd pull the what'sis out of his mouth and snap off the party hat and toss them on the sidewalk. They'd squirm as old Beaver got his nose back into the band and his tongue around the what'sis and a smile backing his pug mug!"
     "Show me the picture," I said, "I'll believe it when I see it."
     "Funny,"said Lou, "seems I always see it when I believe it" He shrugged and looked at me. Seemed to be daring me to believe that one too.
     "last laugh..." he said, with typical ambiguity.

Lousnik Pooper - part 2

     I ran into Lousnik Pooper on the corner of Bleeker and La Guardia the year after I decided there was little left in life to learn. At forty-five, I'd seen the front side and back side of nearly everything and everyone worth seeing. I'd already sank two naturally buoyant relationships into the bottomless pit of self-serving rage and despair, and was making fine progress on sinking a beautiful new family with he same wonton vigor.
      It was the same year Lou learned that the strange tics and sudden attacks of laughter that had recently beset him were due to a tumor the size of hummingbird's egg growing against his brain.
     "Hell, that's all? I thought for certain I was cracked!" He poked the imaging  monitor in the doctors office, "You can scoop that out, right?" he asked. But it wasn't as sims as that.

end of part 2