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Big Man Jim by SF Johnston Alongside the bar sidled Big Man Jim, Notoriously small and absurdly slim. Now Big Man Jim was renowned far and wide, But here he was near, with a gun by his side. And nobody knew what to do.
He climbed on up to the third bar stool, Said “Give me a shot, any dang thing’ll do.” And he drank it down quick with a flick of his wrist, His hand as small as a Leprechaun’s fist. And nobody knew what to do
Then Big Man Jim looked around at the folks, All the gals and their pals and the drunk cowpokes, And he said “I’m a shootin’ this gun off today, And I ain’t talkin’ pigeons and I ain’t talkin’clay.” And nobody knew what to do.
So nobody moved and nobody scattered, But Big Jim finally felt like he mattered, The folks all staring at his blood-stained tattered Old t-shirt looking like stained glass shattered. And nobody knew what to do.
Well, who should pop up from behind that old bar, But the bar owner’s girlfriend name of Dolly Del Mar. She grabbed for her shotgun and cocked it mean, Tossed back her hair and surveyed the scene. And nobody knew what to do.
Old Dolly stared at Jim and Jim stared at Dolly, Jukebox screaming Good Golly Miss Molly, Old Dolly said “Jim, you’re a real small fry, But the thing is you’re also a real tough guy, So nobody knows what to do.”
Then old Grandma White drinking Johnny Walker Black Piped up with her shaky little voice from the back, Said “Jim, you a damn far cry from wise, That gun has got to be twice your size.” And nobody knew what to do.
So Big Man Jim got down off his chair And ran his tiny little hand through his tiny little hair, Said “Heck, I know,” in his tiny little voice, “But it’s not like I have too much of a choice, My Pappy killed a pig today.”
Well the consternation was a palpable noise, “What’s he mean?” said Joe, “What’d he say?” said Joyce. “Killed a pig,” said Frank. “Oh for crying out loud.” And “So what?” was the general consensus of the crowd. But nobody knew what to do.
“Well, pig-killin’ calls for some killin’ of my own,” Said Jim, all the people understandably thrown ‘Cause he wasn’t making sense and he sure was small, But he had that gun, yet he was three feet tall, So nobody knew what to do.
Then Dolly tapped the barrel of her gun on the bar, Said “Jim I think I know why you took it so hard. That pig, by chance, was it your pet Sow? That pot-bellied cutie called I Love You Anyhow?” And Dolly knew what to do. “Jim, a proposition’s gonna come your way. Every pig meets its maker, every dog has its day. Your pappy is mean, and we all know that, But I think we can sort this thing without that.”
And she smiled at his gun, and he holstered it away, And he climbed on the stool and he started to say How sorry he was, for the gun stuff and all, But Dolly took her rifle butt and gave it her all.
Brought it down on the little man’s head with a crack, Said “Nobody comes in here like that Talking trash about killing and that’s a fact. Pet, no pet, why it’s all the same, I ain’t done nothin’, I ain’t to blame.”
“Well, maybe one teensy little thing,” she said, And she pointed to the Grill Room sign overhead. Sure enough, there written out for all to see Was the lunch special running till half past three.
Roast Pork, with crackling, $7.95 “By God,” said Dolly, “it’s good to be alive.” “Now take Big Man Jim off of my hands, Grandma White is so thirsty she’s spitting up sand.”
And Dolly grabbed her menu for the next day’s lunch It said “Hasenpfeffer Stew – you’ll like it a bunch” Then Little Man Slim sidled up to the bar, Said “Pappy killed my rabbits, and he’s out in the car.”
“He’s not comin’ in though, he don’t need a drink, Just washed most his blood down my kitchen sink.” And Old Dolly flung her next day’s menu on the floor Said “How can people eat those little bunnies anymore?”
And everybody knew what to do.
SF Johnston © 2006 |
