Barney the Scribbler

Barney the Scribbler was sitting on a park bench one November morning with his pen and a notebook, when a group of youths approached and started to tease him:

     “Aren’t you Barney the Scribbler? Hey man, read us some of your latest trash.”
     “Get away from me, you kids.”
     “C’mon, Barney. Don’t be such a douchebag! Read us something, man.”

     “Why not?” thought Barney. “I don’t care if my publisher Dick Peddler thinks it’s shit. What do I have to lose?” “All right, kids,” he said and began to read:

     In a ghastly old town there lived a young maiden by the name of

     Lesbia.  She was determined to keep her virginity and would stay away

     from boys... But one day she met a young womanizer by the name of

     Zeus. Zeus worked in a Greek restaurant and made good money in

     tips.  Women adored him, but Zeus felt depressed and lonely and

     yearned for some really spiritual experience with a woman...

     “This is some heavy shit,” exclaimed one of the teenagers. “I guess we better get going,” he said to his pals. “See ya, Barn. Keep pumping out those stories.”

     The kids ran off laughing and Barney could hear one of them saying: “That’s one crazy motherfucker!” Putting his pen and the notebook aside, he crouched down on the bench and began to weep. “These people don’t know shit about great writing.”

     The clouds began to gather and the wind blew in Barney’s face. Then it started to rain. The rain was getting heavier but Barney would remain seated on the bench, immobilized by his despair. His notebook and his clothes were soaked with water, but he just sat there, weeping... In a few days Barney was buried. He died of pneumonia.

   June 28, 1990
--Alexander Shaumyan