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Author's Note:
I like Damon Runyon's Broadway Guys and Dolls stories, and one day while waxing wroth about the use of present tense in stories, the idea of doing a Damon Runyon pastiche occurred to me. Like the Runyon stories, my nameless narrator would be largely peripheral to the action, an observer.
In the twisted logic of comedy, the doll would be unable to take Harry vaginally but could accommodate him anally. (Don't think about it too much; the improbability of it will hurt your brain.) The story would end happily, with Harry and Elizabeth marrying and with Doc and Fran marrying, and our narrator left bereft.
All I can say is what Edmund Gwynn said: Dying is easy; comedy is hard.
JS
The Doc and the Doxy, the Horse and the Whore
Copyright © 1998, 1999 Jordan Shelbourne
Yes it is true Fran's is closing down and Doc Webster is leaving town, and also Harry the Horse (the Younger) is getting married. I am privy to much of it and since you are buying, I will tell you about it. I am responsible, you might say, though it makes me sore to think about.
It so happens that I sometimes hack guys to Fran's when they are flush from the track. And because a guy who is flush from the track is also a heavy tipper, I am sometimes found in Fran's at the same time, enjoying one of the ladies there. I am just in the door from such a trip when Fran asks me to fetch Doc Webster because she is auditioning a new girl. When she says this, she looks me up and down and then she asks me a personal question which I do not want to answer, but that Lucy, one of the girls there, answers for me. "Seven inches," says Lucy while I blush.
"You might be big enough," says Fran and asks me to come back with the Doc. This I figure is my in, because seven inches is not so little and a guy who auditions a doll for Fran does not pay for that doll. This is a treat because Fran charges rent practically for breathing in her parlour.
It is Wednesday so the Doc is at Dutch Johnny's speakeasy and I find him in the back, mostly sober, sitting with Harry the Horse (the Younger). Well, right then I know that I am not getting to audition any new girl that night, because Harry the Horse (the Younger) is not called that because he always knows a horse you can bet on. No, Harry the Horse (the Younger) is built like a fire-hose, and I am not playing in that league. In addition, Harry the Horse is not a bad-looking guy, according to the dolls I drive up and down Broadway. What is worse, he is a nice guy.
The Doc is willing to come because him and Fran are friends from way back, and Harry the Horse tags along. I cannot tell him no, because it is not my place and he is a friend of the Doc's.
When I arrive again at Fran's, the parlour is empty except for Fran and a tiny doll who is I think the girl who is auditioning. I can hear Harry the Horse (the Younger) stop right behind me, this doll is so nice to look at, and then there is a thump because the Doc is right behind him and does not notice Harry stop. Both Harry and I look at the tiny doll and then again because she is worth it.
Even though she is dressed like a schoolteacher, she is a doll such as I would like to look at for a long time. She has all the usual equipment but it is put together very well. But she is blushing which I have never seen in a doll at Fran's. I look around the parlour for a turnip-cart, for it is sure that that is what she has just fallen off.
She is not big up top but it is hard to tell in her teacher-clothes. What I want to see is what she is sitting on, for I am a bottom-man. Harry, though, obviously prefers the other half and he is taking a good look, which makes her blush, which I am astonished to see makes him blush.
I do not know if his blush makes her blush more because the Doc makes an impatient sound and pushes past Harry and me. Though he looks at the tiny doll (the Doc is not dead, after all), he goes up to Fran and kisses her hand.
Fran is very pleased by this and calls him by his first name, which I do not know until that moment. "Hello, Clarence. I'm glad you could come."
I look at Harry because I do not figure the Doc for a Clarence, but he is still looking at the tiny doll.
Fran explains that the doll, whose name is Elizabeth, is auditioning. Fran needs specialists and the doll says she can handle all men, especially the large ones. By large, I do not mean fat, and I do not mean the kind who bump their heads on lintels.
I myself do not believe this. I think that the doll, Elizabeth, needs dough and this need has brought her to Fran's. I do not voice these thoughts because my rent for breathing in Fran's parlour is already pretty high and I want to help before I leave. Helping is all I can afford.
Well, Fran tells Elizabeth and Harry the Horse (the Younger) to go to a particular room, and then she leads the Doc and me to another particular room which is very small. In fact, it is a broom closet size of room with two chairs. Doc and Fran take the chairs and I stand real quiet-like against the door.
Fran shushes us and I see there is a window in one wall. With the light out here and on in there, I figure we can see them but they cannot see us.
---And it ended here---
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