You Better Not Die On Me, Bill

"You better not die on me, Bill, you still owe me my last paycheck!"

I know, strange thing to come to mind when you are chasing after your life long friend who is not about to become cinders.  But Bill was just that way ... every time we would get about even in this crazy line of work we chose, he'd go off and try some new stunt.  Six months in a hospital with a broken back, three months on crutches with two broken legs - twice, almost a year when he ran off with that Aussie chick.  Now this.

"Bill, you d*mn fool, drop and roll."

He always was more brawn that brain, more dare than good sense.  Oh, he'd try anything.  Like the time he dove out the third story window into that hotel pool.  And when he survived, he motioned for me to follow him.  Yea, right.

'Bill, Bill."

If I hadn't married his sister and made her Mrs. Benny Lombardo, I would have left his sorry ass years ago.  Well, no, I probably wouldn't have.   There is something about this overgrown kid, this king of the nitwits, that pulls out of ya every drop of love and loyalty that the good Lord gave ya.

"Daggum it, Bill!  Stop running!"


The End

6 comments about this story Feed