Johann and the Mannequin

by Jonah and Em

 

the story writes itself.

she, nor i, have anything really to do or say about the matter.

unfolding, like fresh laundry, we are but(t) gamblers, knowing not when to do this, nor that, nor the other, over yonder.

 

and as the banjo music swells, one sweet plucking note following another, camera #3 pans in close to a swanky little shoppe in a sweaty little corner of a sleepy little town in our collective nightmarish zeitgeist of love and some lust, babeeedoll yeah :

this was, by no means, the first time he had flirted w/ a mannequin.

indeed, such an outing and an urge had become rather frequent for one mister johann q. sidesnatch.

(no one knows what the "q" stands for; no one had ever dared to ask ...)

looking into her vinyl, deluxe, enticing eyes, johann slowly reached out a somewhat timid yet wholly entranced hand.

this was by no means one's ordinary mannequin.

this mannequin reeked of solid, subtle, sensual potential.

 

this mannequin slowly reached out, too, her hand, meeting his, all taking place in very slow-motion &

in a sort of quiet, reflective, quasi-hallucinative and super-duper erotic meeting of

man and

clothing-store-display-object.

 

without realizing it, johann knocked over the entire garish display of insanity and pervishness.

everything came crashing to a halt with no knowledge of where it began

and where it would end.

 

johann was never good at these kinds of introductions and when everyone turned to stare,

he felt the need to cough uncomfortably and tug at his brown dickey that he really shouldn't have worn.

 

mannequins don't like dickeys! he told himself, only to wear one anyway for comfort and style.

when he turned away from her, the amazonian salesgirl stomped towards him and looked at the display,

lying carelessly on the cheap fluorescent green carpet.

 

johann could not name a more unpleasant time within the last year. his courtship of mannequins always

went off so smoothly, without a hitch. why had he ever come to this outlandish place filled with neon and chaos?

 

he felt sweat beads forming around his neck and alarmingly long beard that would not go away. the salesgirl had begun to pick up the mess and try to restore order in the store,

but johann q. sidesnatch was barreling towards insanity!

he had to regain his composure, as to not look a fool in front of the mannequin, who really looked like her name would be "dolly."

he had always liked the name and this mannequin was a blonde, as were all dollys, so this made perfect sense.

 

johann merely grinned at her and tried not to focus on the salesgirl whose hazel-green eyes were  glaring at him.

 

when all was restored to order, johann asked dolly if she would mind if he lifted her skirt, just a tiny bit,

just to see that she was all right.

she seemed to nod her head and johann lifted the lavender skirt when he thought he heard

the salesgirl calling security.

 

who among us really knows what precisely is going on, in this curiously peculiar and quite unpleasant episode within the confining walls of this hopskotch kistch & schtick place, where sweat rains down in river currents, and a hankey would come in really handy right about now, not only for

 

the purpose of wiping away such incriminatingly pheromonic evidence, but alas, also

to capture - on one fell swoop - all the snot&poop which had been barelling outta sidesnatch's bonker of a hornpipe of a nose, for (at least)

the past 4 1/2 minutes, since first making such seemingly ill-fated connection with dolly.

 

and what are we, mere readers of this pierceingly platonic, grade f & sardonic, piece of piecemeal shit of an excuse of a schtory?

no glory, i tell you. no glory (hole) to be found when johann q. is around.

 

and this is the part of the tale in which things turn a little bit creepy. no sleep, no sleepy. sit up and listen and learn. cause next tis your turn.

 

is it possible - now keep an open mind - anyway yes possible, that the story thus far, and all the sillly-strange goings-on, are but(t) a dream?

dreamt up by the mannequin, herself?

 

perhaps a flashback scene is in order. something tasty & tangible, to provide a real sense of the state of affairs between johann, ms. dolly, ms. hazel-green salesgirl, and security-man, who presently can be seen out of one's peripheral vision, just now coming down the escalator to attend to the mishap in question.

 

why is it, boys&girls, that he is tumbling down, on the going-up escalator? silly little security-man.

doesn't he know to just go with the flow ... and that that would involve the down-one?

 

things are getting really harry here @ the strip mall, and all, and johann suddenly is struck - like a piece of pure lightning sent straight from the gods - against the area between where his scrotum meets the arsehole. by dolly, he's got it!

why, oh good lord why, had he not thought of this earlier?

 

for this is by no means a well-told endeavor. not too clever, be we. nor too fond of any existence without, at least,

a hint

of

mannequin.

 

oh indeed we will have to wait for the flashback scene for that security guard is getting far too close for comfort.  johann worried that he would seem rude, but to garner that precious, priority of time alone with dolly, he would have to snatch her away from this crazy, bizarre place!

 

one minute he was watching that snarling, insecure security guard pounding the pavement beneath those upward-moving steps, and the next, johann had his arm around dolly, pushing his way through the dangerous, deliciously-docile crowd standing just mere feet outside the store!

 

johann had tried his best not to be rude. he sincerely hoped that dolly would not be afraid, nor that she would worry he had kidnapped her.  surely she wouldn’t think he had intentionally mussed her lovely blonde hair, but he must turn these corners quickly or pedro, the perturbed security sleaze would have him in hand!

 

johann had realized that his only real escape was to take the bus, brimming with droopy-eyed darlings and befuddled elderlies, for today was his first date with a doll, that dolly who made him feel all jolly and bewildered. 

 

before he realized it, sidesnatch had dolly leaning up against him on the burly bus, bustling towards someplace unfamiliar, and he told her his still-life story of schticky time lost without her by his side.

 

now may it be noted, if it pleases the court, that by any measure, this little story, this narrative - if it can be called that without sending throngs of the reading public into fits of hysteria, running through the busystreets in the fashion that a barnyard of headless chicken might do - this most daring & bold & completely naked-in-the-snow composition is udderly self-referential. that is to say, it appears to actually refer to itself. yes, dear reader(s), hard to believe, but(t) very goddamn true.

and this is something to be celebrated! a craving that has affected all in this little bare-back barrack of a town.

johann is happy with it (at least thus far).

nor has dolly yet seemed to nod her gorgeous, plastic, welcoming head into any fashion of a "no" position.

fumbling security guard, ditto. tho' he falls. and falls and falls.

ditto as well, our troubled little salesgirl/callgirl. no, make that just salesgirl. equally hazel and green. and mean.

and thus, that being stated - being entered into the official congressional record - be it also recognized, recommends the state, that thissy here is by no means a "story" which is afraid to use the expression "by no means," and etc. etc. et. al. misc. ever-after. dig? cool that.

this just in: johann can currently be seen, if one focuses in on the outbound skeeballville bus # 42 (a rather nice and well-executed transit system - comparable to that of other world-class major cosmopolitian capital cities and ports of entry; a phenomenon rather strange, to say the least, for our dear homey little skeeballville. but(t) alas(s), that's another story altogether. we've got business - kinky, strugling business, at hand, me lads!)

yes, here we spot the governor, johann snatchy-snatch.

and here, dolly, propped so nonchalantly and in deep, inpenetrable melancholia, against our hero's torso and neck. that darn sweaty neck. that folly of a golly of a beard which knows no end (nor beginning). entire poems, whole biographies, sunsetting mountainranges of libraries, have been born and raised within the various 50+ shades of grey of such beard as is his beard. all went on to successful livlihoods, suffice it so say.

 

"dolly," he whispers into her ear. "i'm thinking if we can just, umm, just make it to our stop ... and get off this darn bus, then maybe, just maybe, uhh, you see, maybe you and i could have some quality alone time."

 

and dolly seems to agree, with the slightest of a positive movement in her eyes. those damn gorgeous eyes. 2 of them, in fact. a golden brown, not entirely unlike the shade of johann's bowel movement earlier this very morning.

 

"then," he ponders, a bit outloud, forgetting momentarily that he must not been seen "communicating" with said mannequin, right? he's simply taking it somewhere. on business. official. "them, ahem," he clears the throat. "then, you and i can discuss our wondrous future, umm, together. how we'll make that happen. yeah, how we'll live out our lives in unison and bliss and shit, despite this cruel and never-understanding world in which we find ourselves. ourselves so smitten, yes, dolly?"

 

"we shall grow old together. starting right here, right now, my love. my lady. my pretty little dollbaby who just happens to never have a lot to say. nor many movements to make. alas, sweet dolly: that's among the schmorgasboard of delights that first attracted me to you ... yes, growing old together: ultimate intimate romance. well, well, my sweets, i'll grow old over the years, but i suppose you won't change a bit, will you now?"

 

johann - in a most clandestine manner - laughs a smidgen to himself after uddering that last line.

classic mannequin humour.

 

**

Upon their arrival at his historical, hysterical home, johann of the jive beard grins and in they go, to embark upon some precious but precarious time together.  johann cannot wait to see what awaits him with this plastic, placid gal.

 

johann takes off his touk and settles into the soft sofa with his pink, pretty baby doll wearing only a short lavender dress and gorgeous blonde tresses.  despite the messes lying around his house, dolly seems pleased and just as johann brings his leathery lecherous lips to hers, a knock at the door sends his hopes dashing!

 

“darn!” he cries as he slaps his forehead and regretfully regrets removing dolly from his own sister’s boutique earlier this evening. he cannot seem to stop bringing those dolls back to his place and his silly sibling is sick of it!  she even sends the usual coppery copper, hector, who is standing on his porch currently.  It is embarrassing to have hector catching him in this same predictable predicament once again.

 

“johann!’ hector, the crazy cop calls to him.  johann’s mind races as this racy scene changes from daring to desperate!  he quickly moves dolly to the one place hector never looks and the beardly romeo of the hour opens the overly-large oaken door to a familiar beige face with a mustachioed muscular look. 

 

in typical police fashion, the burly man in black with a badge conducts his convoluted search only to discover diddly.  “sorry hep cat,” he heaves and high-fives our hero.  “got another call aboutcha and hadda-have-a look.” 

 

johann closes the overly-large oaken door and rescues his rather miffed maiden.  as he holds her close in his elegant embrace, our dubious don juan wins her over.  dolly is his, he just knows it…as(s) do we, through whom this terrifyingly terrific tale has been told, with questionable reportage from the small and quite silly township of skeeballville, u.s.a. (nobody knows what the "u" stands for; nodolly dares to ashk).