(About a 3 minute read)
I beseech thee! I, a wretched beggar, beseech thee!
In the hour of Marissa’s crisis, in the hour of her darkness,
I beseech thee! I beseech You whose lowly latrine
Is not only infinitely above me, but is thoughtfully plumbed
To drain into my life.
You who are sacred, holy, and divine
You who are the Twisted Circus Clowns Above Us All
Have mercy upon my friend Marissa,
Have mercy on her, you Clowns!
For Marissa has lost her heart, her only heart —
And tragically, her heart has been found by mine.
They won’t, Marissa. They won’t help you at all.
Trust me, I know the Clowns,
I’ve seen them with my own wisdom.
It’s always good to pray in times of crisis
But the Clowns won’t answer prayers.
I do it for tradition, Marissa.
My prayers for you are just formalities.
I only pray for the sake of tradition.
I try to be a good man, Dear, but I have my flaws,
It’s just not me, it’s not my nature to return a lost heart.
Truly sorry Marissa. I know me.
I can imagine the horrors in store for you now.
But cheer up! Your heart is tonight with mine, Marissa.
She’s got a new friend, a good friend, a devoted friend.
And she’s got a bed, she’s got a bed tonight.
A warm and comfy bed.
Um…of course, it’s a bed she’ll need to share with someone.
Um…actually, a few someones.
Um…actually at least four other someones.
Um…actually I forgot to count my muses, Terese and Marysa.
And, well, I also forgot to count Alyssa and Anupriya.
And…uh…Jane and Shreya.
Plus…um…the overnight guests.
And…ah…them that rent the bed by the hour.
You know, the pretty women who walk by?
Along with the not so pretty women
Who fail to walk by fast enough?
But no worries, Marissa! It’s better this way!
Everything is going to be fine!
Trust me! Everything is gong to be fine.
I’m ashamed of myself, Marissa, I really am.
Your heart deserves much better than me.
I honestly admit your heart deserves much better than me.
A good man in my position would give it back.
A good man would return a lost heart to its owner.
I’m terribly afraid that’s out of the question, Old Sport.
Born outlaw. Born thief. “Criminal Tendencies” they called it
In Reform School, where I spent most all of my formative years,
They called it my “Criminal Tendencies”.
Just ask Terese and Marysa. Just ask any of my muses.
“Public Displays of Affection”.
“Invasions of Privacy”.
“Breaking and Entering”.
“Intimacy with a Minor”.
“Intimacy with a Major.”
“Intimacy all over.”
“Intimacy on the kitchen table.”
“Racing Hearts in a Residential Zone”.
Born to Break the Laws, Marissa.
Just ask Marysa. Just ask Terese.
Just ask any of my muses.
Simply won’t do my not being true to myself, Dear,
Not being true by returning your heart.
Terribly sorry, Old Sport. You deserve better.
Still, no returns on lost hearts.
No returns on lost hearts.