Next Stop: Buffalo
by Rudolph Halsy 

                       So the guys would all meet on Saturday night and hang out and bitch and moan and then bitch again and wait a few hours before moaning some more because they were sick of the whole goddam thing. It’s all politics, Murray told them, referring to why they couldn’t get ahead in this goddam life. What do you mean, asked Beltway Betty, the waitress with the really weird name. Dahn’t listen to im, said Harvey in his trademark dialect, he’s gunna spout that communist bullshit of Karl’s again. I won’t have it. I won’t have it. What won’t he have, asked Wally. I said that, said Murray. I won’t have him bad-mouthing Karl. Is that still you? asked Wally. Yeah, it’s me, said Murray. Hey! Look! shouted an unidentified character. It’s Karl!

                       Karl came in wearing his dirty blazer and his crooked beret that was all he owned ‘cause Karl was a espouser of communist philosophy which was the idea that the working classes always have to be at war with the bourgeoisie ‘cause the bourgeoisie own the means of production and, well, I don’t want to get into it much more ‘cause the story is supposed to be about Karl and Murray and Wally and, what’s that other guy’s name, Harvey? Yeah, Harvey, but if you want you can send me an e-mail or a letter or something and I’ll tell you more about it.

                       So Karl, what are you doing hanging out with us proletariat on a night like this? asked Harvey, being a smart ass. You don’t get it, man, said Karl, we’re all proletariat if we don’t own the means of productions and none of us do. What’s the means of production then? asked Wally, real interested. That I’m not quite sure. I guess they’re referring to like factories and resources, maybe land, who can say— Hey! Don’t talk that communist shit in my establishment! shouted a previously unintroduced character named Barney who owned the diner. You start that communist shit with me again I’m gonna take you outside and pummel you into a bloody mess. I’d like to see you try, said Harvey, but Barney thought it was Karl and he grabbed Karl by the throat suddenly and dragged him out the door with a ding-ding of the bell on the door and proceeded to punch Karl over and over until his teeth were cracked and his face was swollen and red and dripping blood from his mouth and nose holes and he couldn’t see out of one eye and, man, that’s violent isn’t it? but Karl was too busy crying to consider the kind of brutality going on in the city of Buffalo, he was mainly worried about the brutality happening to his face over and over in four-knuckled intervals.

                       Stop, my face! You’re hurtin my face! Owee! My face! You’re still doin it you asshole! Ow! Okay you’re not an asshole just quit hittin my face! Ow! You’re still doin it I don’t get why you’re still doin it! Ow! That doesn’t mean I prefer getting hit in the back! I would like for you to quit hittin altogether! Please stop please stop it! And eventually Karl passed out and was lying in a puddle of blood and broken teeth and piss but it wasn’t his piss cause I didn’t want to tell you but Barney pissed on him when he was finished, I know it’s gross, it makes me want to throw up and I thought of it. Karl probably laid there all night as it began to snow on him and another Buffalo night passed for the wretched inhabitants of the city that brought you Buffalo wings.

For more of this great story, buy Rudolph Halsy’s novel
Next Stop: Buffalo Big Gay Bear
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