CLICHES

24-03-2020

Well, there’s one born every minute, isn’t there? It’s an old trick but it might just have worked. Only I am not as green as I am cabbage-looking. I don’t fall for that old chestnut that; because the oldest, surviving, written record we have of a word/phrase/idea comes from Jo Soap’s writing; Jo Soap must have invented it. There are writers who were publishing stuff at the time when censorship laws were relaxed in this country (sorry – this great nation of ours) Some of them recalled going through manuscripts filling in blanks with the actual ‘naughty’ words intended. It must have been quite a surreal experience for an erudite wordsmith to spend a morning writing nothing but cuss-words. BUT, they could have been given credit for inventing many of these expletives as there was, presumably, no previous written record. Mind you, J.K. Rowling’s facebook post was the first time I encountered the word “dumbassery” and I’m happy to let her have that, as well as “quidditch”

So:

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night. The short, pale, unassuming stranger walked into the saloon in the gold-orderly-queue town and the piano player carrried on playing; conversations and card-games went ahead uninterrupted. The stranger walked up to the bar and waited his turn to be served. He ordered a soft drink.

“Certainly sir. Guess you must be new in town?”

“Yup. I’m looking for the man who didn’t kill my pa.”

“Don’t narrer it down much.”

“Guess not.”

At that momet, the sheriff came into the bar and announced “the Pittsville Bank’s been robbed!” He was almost knocked down by the wave of apathy that swept past him.

“Oh, not again.” Miss Kitty, the bar-room floosy- I mean, assistant manager yawned. “Did they have any money left to steal?”

“Sure did, Miss Kitty; just took delivery of the Pitt Company payroll money.” Someone started to say that, since the Pitt Company were not exactly generous employers, that would hardly be worth stealing, and someone else was about to accuse the sheriff of a cliché, when the officer of the law noticed the new-comer.

“Say, fellah, I don’t think I know you from anywhere. Your face is not at all familiar. We like strangers around here. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay”

“He’s looking” the bartender offered “for the man who didn’t kill his father.”

“Do ya have a name?”

“Of course, sheriff; I’m Joseph Lux.”

“No. The suspect; do you have a name for the suspect?” There was a brief hush and a collective intake of breath until Miss Kitty opined that “A corny joke doesn’t count as a cliché.”

“Matter of fact,” the stranger responded “I do. Jonathan Hart.”

Nobody flinched at the mention of the name.

“Jonathan Hart, the famous philanthropist?”

“Oh, I don’t know if he collects…” the stranger was interrupted by Miss Kitty

“I’m prepared to allow one corny joke but…”

“Sorry, ma’am” he tipped his hat. “Yeah. Him.”

“Tell us how it happened” Somebody had to say.

“Well, my pa was a mean, ornery rat. That is, he was an average, ordinary guy who was a member of the Water Rats. He was waitin’ to hold up the Smithsburg train (you know, one of them there whistle-stops where the driver don’t stop less’n some wayfaring stranger signals for him to) Anyroad, Hart was ridin’ up front with the driver.”

“Why was the owner of the railroad ridin’ up front with the driver?” Somebody had to ask

“ Cause he cou… well, heck, Miss Kitty, who doesn’t want to ride up…”

“Oh, get on with it.”

“Well, my pa trips over his boot-lace and falls right on to the tracks. Hart seen him but the driver never did. He stopped that train and didn’t kill my pa.”

“And you wanna thank Mr Hart?” The sheriff guessed. “Maybe that was your daddy’s dying request? Or maybe Mr Hart knows something? Something that’ll lead you to some treasure or…” Miss Kitty coughed.

“I know” the stranger looked straight down the barrel of the camera “that you’re expecting a punch-line. But isn’t a punch-line something of a cliché?”

1hr 4mins writing time