smoot
conversations with smoot by worm 4
(Because you know you want it, and because I know that you know that you want it, and because you know that I know that you know…)
In which Fred Smoot and I discuss the recent economic downturn.
(A telephone rings)
Me: Hello.
Smoot: Hey Jay! How’ya doin? It’s Smoot, baby!
Me: Hey Fred, been a long time.
Smoot: You ain’t an easy man to find. Why ain’t you on facebook yet?
Me: Long story. How’d ya track me down?
Smoot: Turns out I have your phone number. Kinda old school, huh. So’s I’m callin because I need your help.
Me: Of course, go on.
Smoot: Well, you know that the current economic climate has had a negative impact on many segments of the American populace, affecting upper and lower class alike…
Me: Are you reading that off something?
Smoot: Maybe.
Me: Just tell me what happened.
Smoot: Well, turns out I’m broke. Lost about $20 million in the last 9 months.
Me: Wow. Fall for a ponzi scheme or something?
Smoot: Well, half my money was tied up in two investments. You know those spinner things that people put on their cars? Turns out people don’t do that any mo. Thought those things’d be cool forever. So when the bottom dropped out o’that, I figured people still gotta eat, so’s I put a few million into peanuts. HUGE mistake. Some chumps named Sam and Ella ruined that for me.
Me: Ok, so what about the other half, the other $10 million?
Smoot: Well, I asked my bank about that. They showed me a list of about 300,000 ATM withdrawls for $20 or $40 dollars I’ve made in the past five years. I mean I remember makin some of those, but not that many. You think someone could’ve got my card and guessed my PIN?
Me: 6969?
Smoot: Damn.
Me: Look, Fred, if it’s money you need, you’re really barking up the wrong tree.
Smoot: Naw, I jus need a favor. I gots me a plan, see?
Me: I’m intrigued. Lay it on me.
Smoot: See, turns out I’ve got a nice fat life insurance policy on me, and the beneficiary is a guy named Frederico B. Smoovington…
Me: I think I know where this is going…
Smoot: ... so I’ve got the papers all set up. I figure, fake my death, collect some cash, get the collectors off my trail, and still have enough time before training camp for the plastic surgery to heal. I figure the Vikes’ve gotta have open tryouts sometime this summer, right? All’s I need from you is one little thing…
Me and Smoot: (at same time) A body.
Smoot: Right, just keep an eye on the obits for someone about my age and size, preferably one who died while with multiple women, as that would make it much more believable. Then just Fed-Ex the body to my place in Virginia and I’ll take care of the rest. Questions?
Me: So, what’s in it for me?
Smoot: You really think the Vikings are goin to the Bowl without another corner?
Me: Right. I’ll be in touch. Later.
Smoot: Smoot… I mean Smoovington out.
In which Fred Smoot and I discuss the recent economic downturn.
(A telephone rings)
Me: Hello.
Smoot: Hey Jay! How’ya doin? It’s Smoot, baby!
Me: Hey Fred, been a long time.
Smoot: You ain’t an easy man to find. Why ain’t you on facebook yet?
Me: Long story. How’d ya track me down?
Smoot: Turns out I have your phone number. Kinda old school, huh. So’s I’m callin because I need your help.
Me: Of course, go on.
Smoot: Well, you know that the current economic climate has had a negative impact on many segments of the American populace, affecting upper and lower class alike…
Me: Are you reading that off something?
Smoot: Maybe.
Me: Just tell me what happened.
Smoot: Well, turns out I’m broke. Lost about $20 million in the last 9 months.
Me: Wow. Fall for a ponzi scheme or something?
Smoot: Well, half my money was tied up in two investments. You know those spinner things that people put on their cars? Turns out people don’t do that any mo. Thought those things’d be cool forever. So when the bottom dropped out o’that, I figured people still gotta eat, so’s I put a few million into peanuts. HUGE mistake. Some chumps named Sam and Ella ruined that for me.
Me: Ok, so what about the other half, the other $10 million?
Smoot: Well, I asked my bank about that. They showed me a list of about 300,000 ATM withdrawls for $20 or $40 dollars I’ve made in the past five years. I mean I remember makin some of those, but not that many. You think someone could’ve got my card and guessed my PIN?
Me: 6969?
Smoot: Damn.
Me: Look, Fred, if it’s money you need, you’re really barking up the wrong tree.
Smoot: Naw, I jus need a favor. I gots me a plan, see?
Me: I’m intrigued. Lay it on me.
Smoot: See, turns out I’ve got a nice fat life insurance policy on me, and the beneficiary is a guy named Frederico B. Smoovington…
Me: I think I know where this is going…
Smoot: ... so I’ve got the papers all set up. I figure, fake my death, collect some cash, get the collectors off my trail, and still have enough time before training camp for the plastic surgery to heal. I figure the Vikes’ve gotta have open tryouts sometime this summer, right? All’s I need from you is one little thing…
Me and Smoot: (at same time) A body.
Smoot: Right, just keep an eye on the obits for someone about my age and size, preferably one who died while with multiple women, as that would make it much more believable. Then just Fed-Ex the body to my place in Virginia and I’ll take care of the rest. Questions?
Me: So, what’s in it for me?
Smoot: You really think the Vikings are goin to the Bowl without another corner?
Me: Right. I’ll be in touch. Later.
Smoot: Smoot… I mean Smoovington out.
