Subway Showdown

A weird Subway fantasy.. always wished life to be a bit more musical

 

A rada-tat jazz man with a top hat on and a click in his fingers strolls in

the *ding-ding* of the old fashioned bell above the door warns us of his slimy presence.

Our eyes crack like a whip and a western showdown begins

He smoothly slides one shoe in front of the other

leather penny shoes black and slickened with fresh polish

He stops and slouches

legs spread wide extending out side to side

one hand in pocket, the other still clicking

His raspy voice swims out with a mild tune to match his monotone

“now I wanna dry turkey sub, six inches of lovin’ in my mouth

lettuce tomatoe, gotta have that tomatoe, mayo mayo mayo please.

Now that’s the right stuff, yeaahhh”

We raise our eye brows in a ‘what the hell?’ fashion

but what else could we do but form the assembly line.

A musical rhythm of repetitive motion

Hands like machines stamping down.. bread.. slap it down slide across

Turkey, slap and slide… lettuce, slap and slide…

don’t forget tomatoe slap and slide… mayo please slap and slide..

wrap and bag… toss to the counter.

“Oh, you are some fine things” fingers still clicking

“mighty fine. But one more thing b’fore I scoot on outta here,

let me have some of that fine soup you got, you know I like me some good cup of soup mm-mmmm”  

My eyebrows bend inward in a perfect V on my forehead

A V meaning villain ‘cause I’m about to go ape s**t on this hombre.

“one, momento” I reply, pointing my finger out to signify the universal ‘just a sec’

I swing in a U shape at the hips, turning to my crew “huddle girls”

We form a football pile up right in front of this ‘cool cat’

“This guy's crampin’ my style. Lets show him what we’re all about”

We turn in unison and form a line locked by the arms.

With a swift bend and snap we hop on the counter

causing the man to stagger back.

In a hip hop cheerleader chant we holla

“No soooup no soooup no soup no soup for you, you can’t get no soup!

you stupid. You stupid. you ugly and you stupid”

at the last chant of our song we found ourselves with our backs to the man

bent down waving our bottoms in his face.

He drops his dry turkey sub, drops his jaw

dragging on the floor he leaves a jagged trail of drool to the door

as he wabbles out.

“Yeah, and that’s what we’re all about!”

unfortunately what we weren’t all about was little black flies

on the wall

who capture video in their spy cam eyes

and tattle tale to the Boss.

Now ain't that the b's and e's?

2 weeks notice?

I don’t believe in quitting.. I just get fired

If you’re interested…

There’s a free spirited Hip-hop bonita for hire!

Reviews

[Rain]

This was a cool, lighthearted piece. I loved it. We need more of this kind of write. You just said " You gotta come cooler than that." Rain..