“I ain’t never seen nothing like it,” said Lucky Doodrop, a gaming specialist operating the Shoot for Glory booth. “I didn’t even know those whatchamacallit ball-orb-thingies could go through the hoop-y-dealies– but I surely saw it with my own two eyes! It were either an act of God or I got myself snookered, but good!” said the contrite carney as he expelled a stream of tobacco juice into his styrofoam spit cup.
The winning shooter, one Kenny Lorridore of Driscoll, Texas, said he never expected to win. “I’ve played this game for long as I can remember, but I’ve never even come close. Probably spent close to $5,000 trying to win me a big stuffed animal, now I somehow did it! Don’t know where I’m going to put the big sucker, but by gum he’s mine, all mine!”
“It’s just not fair,” said Mr. Doodrop, ” I have been done in by ill-fated chance or flim-flammery, and my heart is truly broken for I loved me that stuffed critter, what that no good cheating kid done stole from me. I aims to see it don’t never get done again!”
With that, the irate carney flipped down the lid to his welder’s cap, ignited his arc torch and began heating the basketball rim, tightening the circumference on his game of chance.
God bless the carnies.
Amen, brother. To quote Homer Jay, “Carnie folk are truly kings among men!”
A friend (who will remain nameless to protect his future career aspirations) told me that his fellow movie-maker types were the REAL carney folks.
How could he compare that squeaky clean industry with these shysters who con little kids outta their allowances?
I guess he, too, was referring to that “kings among men” thing. You writers can confuse a girl.
Dear Kitty:
Writers are all about confusion and obfuscation of girls and boys. It’s all about building mazes with nouns, verbs, those other wordy things.
As for your friend in the movie-maker biz, yes, I suspect they are carney-like in all regards.