At the top of the stairs

I closed my eyes and all I could think of was how angry I was at my best friend, a chipmunk. Sure, I am positive that at some point a friend or spiritual advisor warned me not to fall in love with a chipmunk, but I was much younger when I met Billy Bob Chipmunk and now we are just stuck with one another.
Chipmunks age differently than humans, so when I found Billy Bob living on the bumper of my old Ford truck and I asked him what he was doing there and all he could muster was a smile, I knew he could end up being trouble. Of course, at the time, I had no clue what sort of trouble I would end up getting into.
He was young then, but that was eons ago and now he is old and cranky and sometimes cynical and brutish. I forgive everything because sometimes I am the same way.
Billy Bob has long been known for his dancing.
I’m not quite sure how this came about, because at the time we met, I was a professional dancer and he was, well, a chipmunk. Soon enough we were doing double bills at Carnegie Hall and “Shake and Bake,” the first a professional theater in New York City, the second, a strip club for stoners in Denver.
As Billy Bobs knees began to give out and his racist diatribes became even more offensive, I had to give up the stage to dedicate my life to my first love, medicine. Sure, I flunked out of med school long ago, but like most doctors working in America, I just faked it. Looking back on my decades as a surgeon I can honestly say that a decent percentage of my patients did not die painfully.
So imagine my shock this week when I found out that Billy Bob Chipmunk had secretly been keeping detailed notes on not only my illegal medical activities, but also my moonshining business. I think I did what any professional surgeon/moonshine provider would do, I brought Billy Bob to the circus and sold him for five dollars.
When I was talking to my shrink yesterday, Dr. Fivingstook, I mentioned that Billy Bob was no longer with me and the good doctor dropped his maniacal on the floor and said, “why that can’t be, I saw him just yesterday, performing at “Spangles” which is one of our cities grimiest and disgusting pool hall and frenzy dancing palaces. A lot of people don’t even know what a Frenzy Dance Palace is, but then again, we are not in Europe anymore.
That said, life without Billy Bob Chipmunk has been a lot nicer than I could have imagined. My super smart lawyer told me that while my recent chipmunk removal was highly immoral, it was also super legal, which in the end is almost all that matters.
That said, I got a call from a mormon missionary this morning who told me he had spent the majority of the evening drinking illegal moonshine and “talking shit” with a very verbal and racist chipmunk and it was then that I knew, at some point, our paths would again cross.


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