A Rainy Summer Tale in Heaven . . .

Bugsy and Malone
by Sweepy



The story began on a freaky day.
It was one of those hot, rainy days . . .



Bugsy was bored and out of spin.
Bugsy looked at the blinding hot sun in one corner of the skies
and a coming dark, rainy clouds coming from another direction
and knew an impending doom is coming his way.


This is Bugsy.



He lives in a house called Heaven
down some street with a colorful name
he somehow can't remember. . .


Sweepy: Psssst, Bugsy, the name is Rainbow. Rainbow Avenue!


Bugsy looked around.
He does not see anybody.
He also can not see any storyteller
much less a SuperDog meddling in his tale.
Nope, Bugsy is bored and out of spin.



Now, this is Malone.



She lives in a house called Heaven
down a street called Rainbow Avenue.
Yes, Malone remembers the street very well.
In her past life, she came from an enlightened tribe
and she was known as She-Who-Remembers . . .


Malone's name rhymes with baloney.
And it was not without some great significance.
Malone's great grandma would always say "baloney!"
every time Malone would remember
something from their great past
and the tribe thought baloney sound holistic
and a perfect name for their gifted healer.
But since SheWhoRemembers is female
they changed Baloney to Malone.
And that's how Malone got her name.
Now don't ask why there is no Y.


By some quirk of fate
that only happens during a freaky weather
Malone and Bugsy met . . .




Their eyes locked.
Their antennas scanned each other's data
which is then sent to their network
for verification and proper validation
before their clan's report were transmitted back
to the waiting antennas of the two strangers
eyeing each other in alarm and excitement!





Their opposing genes say they were a perfect pair.
Their clan's report also studied the possibilities
of a magical merger of enzymes and drools
and transmitted a perfect mating chance!


All these were transmitted in seconds
long before the era of PCs and Macs.
Long before some geniuses became fools
and started inventing spams and viruses
instead of rewiring DNAs to combat bad drools.
Long before some stupid bores invented chain mails.
But I'm digressing from a magical tale . . .




It is fate.
Their fate.
Bugsy's and Malone's.
And their clan's fate as well.
It was a fate made in Heaven!
And it was perfect!


But Malone knew it is not.
Only Malone knew that this is an illusion.
Perfect love does not always happen.
You don't meet the love of your life
in some sneaky corner
on a freaky day
with all the clan cheering on the side
and most especially, not documented
by a character with a missing blog
accompanied by a wimpy pillow
that shares his name.


Nope.
Malone faces the readers
and whispers in true shaman fashion:
This Is Not Love.
Not A Love Story.
Sorry folks.
This is all a mistake.
I saw all of these before.
My memory never falters
and I know that this is one of those freaky stories
where characters fall over each other
and later, when reality hits them
like when the weather rights itself
and the webs of their desires melt
they gaze into each other's eyes
and watch their broken antennas
and wonder "what made us do this silly stunt!"


Nope. Malone shook her head.
I am not going to go through with this.
Count me out.
And Malone walked out!


Now don't take my word for it.
Watch it in real time . . .




. . . and so the story goes . . .


Bugsy watched his one great love reject him.
Reject him for no good reason other than . . .
She Remembered it was not meant to be.
Malone said she knows all conclusions to every stories.
She said she knows theirs.
And because she knows . . .
and she remembers . . .
their fate is doomed.




. . . so Bugsy flew away . . .



Now this is Weepy.




Weepy belongs to a SuperDog named Sweepy.



Sweepy is a male dog who lives in Heaven
who writes crappy stories and makes life a living hell
for black male hounds and singing greens plants
including a female pillow also named Sweepy
who looks exactly like him.
Sweepy is also a great sleeper and a sweeper
which is why he owns Weepy.


Now, Weepy has a great mission in life.
His task is to sweep anything that is dead,
dirty, dusty, and up to no good . . .





And this is what Weepy saw that day:



It was Bugsy!
And Bugsy was lying in his own . . . drool!




Poor Bugsy!
He just met his fate.
He just met the great love of his life.
He was just a second of that great story
and suddenly it was over.
It was totally exhausting!
It totally did not made sense!
And it left him confused,
wanting and alone.
Death is the greatest relief.
Death claimed him totally.
It was Over before he even had time to mull over it.



Now Weepy looked closer.

Hmmmm . . . let me see . . .
Weepy checked his Vision-Mission guide:
Definitely dead: check!
not really dirty,
not dusty at all
so Weepy is not sure
if this thing is up to no good.

Verdict: Weepy is Undecided.



Yikes!
A dead bug!
Where's the sweeper?

The Keeper of Heaven arrived and has spoken.
It was beyond anybody's decision by now.
When TheKeeper speaks, it is the final word.


And without another word,
The Keeper immediately got Weepy and . . .



. . . swept Bugsy's dead body away . . .


. . . and deposited it in the rich, recycled earth
where most of Heaven's creatures lie in state.


. . . and by the light of the fading sun . . .


casting scary, crunching shadows on dead beings

. . . lies Bugsy.
Too young too forgetful.
A life lived to love and die.


Bugsy: 2009-2009
May He Rest In Peace



And hearing the cries of a cockroach somewhere,
TheKeeper stopped and looked around.
TheKeeper heard a voice from the past.
The voice of a thousand whispers.
Possibly from ancestors long dead
that answers to the name SheWhoRemembers
who whispered that the dead bug is a lover
a great lover with a bad memory
who found but never consummated
his only great love . . .
a sad ending to a great love!


TheKeeper bowed her head
and buried Bugsy in reverence.
Lighted an incense and prayed
for all the gods to embrace Bugsy
in his sad journey . . .





Lessons from this Drooly Tale:

Not all stories have happy endings.
Not all happy endings are great stories.
But great stories are happy
even if the endings are not.


TheEnd.




Copyright, 2009 HIH