Johnny De Morgan’s pick strummed delicately across his
guitar strings and created a heavenly lullaby for those walking the streets at
night. He too could feel the heaviness of his eyelids and the quicksand-like
pull underneath his body. Yet he continued to strum his beautiful melodies as
the snow gently poured into his guitar case, barely a single gold coin
occupying this space. Strangers walked by with their chins tucked into their
chests, not giving Johnny the slightest glance.
The night sky blanketed the city in midnight shadows. Johnny
wished he too had a blanket of some kind, but all that kept him minimally warm
was his checkered overcoat, striped scarf, and thin layers underneath. He
struggled to keep his fingers steady in this shiver-inducing weather. Sometimes
his melodies would echo awkwardly across the street corner because of his
shaking. Johnny stopped playing and gripped the neck of his guitar like he was
actually strangling someone. He held the instrument above his head like he was
going to smash the fucking thing to pieces.
“Johnny, no!” shouted a feminine voice off to the side. The
busker’s eyes must have been too frosty to notice her at first, but that
beautiful voice could have only belonged to the elven rogue Debra Lynch. Light
green skin, thick layers of black wool, wavy blue hair, and a cap over her
scalp: she was unmistakable at this point. She had the same weary and sorrowful
expression in her damp eyes that Johnny did. That made her even more beautiful
(not that Johnny would ever tell her something like that).
“Johnny, you can’t give up yet. You’ll freeze to death out
here if you don’t keep playing,” begged Debra.
“I don’t know, Debra,” said Johnny with his head hung low.
“Does it really matter anymore how good I am with this stupid thing? Nobody’s
paying attention. Everybody just wants to walk on by like I’m some sort of
fucking monster. Forget it, Debra, I’m done with this shit.”
“So what would you rather do? Starve to death?” pleaded
Debra while cupping her hands over Johnny’s arm. “You don’t have a choice in
the matter. It’s either this or death. Wait a minute…you’re not actually
considering…” The elf’s voice grew shaky with those last few words.
“Like you said, Debbie-Cakes: I don’t have a choice in the
matter,” said Johnny with more coldness than the snowflakes pounding down on
him. “I can stand out here and freeze like a motherfucker playing for
pennies…or I can just fall asleep in my own shallow grave. Never have to wake
up again. Never have to deal with these ignorant people. Never have to worry
about where my next meal’s coming from. Sounds like heaven to me.”
Debra smacked Johnny in the back of his head and messed up
his black puffy hairdo. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk about that nonsense
again! If you just fuck off the face of this earth, what am I supposed to do
for the rest of my life? I need you, Johnny. We need each other!”
Tears welled up in Johnny’s frosty eyes as he said, “Sorry,
I’m just a little frustrated, that’s all. God, what I wouldn’t do for a hot
bowl of soup and a fucking blanket! Is that too much to ask for?!”
The argument came to an abrupt end when Johnny and Debra’s
eyes zeroed in on a heavyset orc strutting down the streets. His leather armor,
bloody war paint, and gigantic sword sheathed on his back gave him the aura of
an undisputed champion. The burdensome sack of gold coins on his belt caused
Johnny and Debra to snap awake with secretive excitement. Johnny strummed his
guitar much more vigorously than before in hopes that the rock and roll music
would entice this brutish warrior.
The orc attempted to skate on by, but Johnny and Debra
blocked his path with the biggest of grins. Debra even rubbed her gloved
fingers together to signify what she and her friend wanted. “Fuck off and die!”
shouted the beastly warrior as he shoved Johnny into a row of rubbish bins.
“Hey!” belted Debra. “Who the hell do you think you are
pushing a defenseless man like that?!” When the orc refused to listen, the elf
grabbed him by the thick wrist and jerked him over for attention. “I’m talking
to you, you gigantic sack of shit!”
“Debra, wait!” pleaded Johnny as he picked himself and his
guitar off the ground. “That’s Link Rotunda! He’s a cage fighting champion!
You’re not going to get any gold from him by calling him a sack of shit! Show
some respect!”
Link’s rotten grin coincided with Debra’s fiery glare as the
orc said, “That’s better! That’s what I like to see: people taking initiative!”
He pointed his sausage index finger at Debra and said, “You could learn
something from a guy like him!” The elf hmphed and folded her arms, never
releasing her death stare from the gigantic bully. “Now then, where were we? Ah
yes! You want some of this gold, sonny boy? You want to eat tonight? You’re
going to have to earn it! Forget that stupid hipster guitar! You’re going to
dance for your supper!”
“He will do no such thing!” grunted Debra before being held
at bay by Link’s massive arm.
“What do you say, you sweet little boy? Are you going to
dance or what?” asked Link with a devilish smirk. Despite Debra’s angry
protests, Johnny tossed aside his guitar and danced around like a monkey
attempting ballet. Link’s throaty laughter caused Debra to hold her face in her
hands in sheer embarrassment. “Good one, good one! Now put the garbage can on
your head! Do it, monkey boy!”
Sure enough, Johnny heaved a garbage can over himself and
danced around some more, Debra shaking her head the entire time and Link
laughing it up with a few knee slaps to boot. “How am I doing, Mr. Rotunda?”
“Oh, you’re doing great, my friend! You’re going to be a
rich motherfucker in no time at all! Just one more thing and you’ll have all
the gold you want! Take off that silly garbage can…and suck my dick!”
The monkey dancing was replaced with a frozen stillness and
silent weeping underneath the garbage can. He slowly pulled off the bin and
revealed an expression full of shock and despondency. “Is that what you really
want, Mr. Rotunda? I’ll do it if that’s what you want.”
“This is bullshit!” shouted Debra as she picked up the
fallen rubbish bin and tossed it at Link.
The orc slashed it in half with one wave of his newly
unsheathed sword. Garbage scattered across the ground and blew away in the
winter breeze. Johnny silently asked Debra what the fuck she was doing and elf
stood her ground with clenched fists and a raw attitude.
Meanwhile, Link just laughed it off and said, “I guess you
don’t really want hot soup after all. It’s a shame, because I could have given
you more soup in that one BJ than any restaurant. It’s saltier too! And
tastier! Or so I’ve been told!” Link sheathed his sword, waved goodbye, and
chuckled, “Keep saving up!” He turned heel and strutted away until the
nighttime shadows covered him completely.
Johnny’s cheeks quivered and his eyes cascaded as he
struggled to say, “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? He was our meal
ticket!”
Debra’s angry breathing intensified to where this winter
weather could be confused for a boiling summertime hell. She grabbed Johnny by
his overcoat and shoved him against a brick wall. “Are you out of your fucking
mind?!” raged the elf. “Do you really think he was going to pay you all that
money to humiliate yourself like that? Bullshit, he would have disappeared like
a fart in the wind! I know you’re a homeless man looking for change, but you
should never have to lower yourself like that just for a half ass chance at
getting paid! I don’t care if Link Rotunda is the champion of the fucking
universe! He’s a bully first and a humanitarian last! How do you think he wins
so many of those fights?!”
Johnny snorted loose snot up his nose and swallowed before
sobbing, “I’ll take a small chance of getting paid over no chance any day of
the week.”
Debra slammed Johnny back first against the wall and raised
her fist in the air as though she was ready to knock a few teeth loose. “I
should turn that fucking face of yours inside out for saying shit like that! I
should rip your brains out through your eye sockets and eat that for dinner
instead of some poor man’s soup!”
Johnny De Morgan could feel his insides turning into jelly
and his bladder and bowels loosening while anticipating the stinging fist that
would eventually shatter his skull into snowflakes. The tension in his stomach
made him ill. His skin turned pasty white. He shook harder than when he was
struggling for warmth.
And then Debra said, “I’ve got a better idea than that”
before showering her victim with a handful of golden coins. Johnny could
finally breathe a heavy sigh of relief like a whirlwind of seething pain coming
out of his mouth. His elf compatriot brushed his checkerboard coat off and
said, “The only way you’ll ever eat with me tonight is if you never pull that
shit again. You’re my best friend. I hate seeing you in pain like that. Link
was never going to give you those gold coins, so I snatched them from him while
he was busy laughing like a fucking hyena.”
Johnny and Debra embraced one another and gave their bodies
enough warmth to last through two more winters. It wasn’t just physical warmth
that Johnny felt throughout his body. It was that special warm fuzzy feeling of
knowing his best friend had his back through thick and thin (even if she did
scare the shit out of him). Johnny could picture the bowl of soup sliding down
his throat and soothing his frosty wounds. Broccoli cheddar soup from a garlic
bread bowl. Thank you, Mr. Rotunda. Thank you so much!
