First Cowvid
Shot
by Albert Russo
I had to accompany Unky
Berky to a clinic, waking up at an uncushy
hour - 6 a(nger) m(ongrel) -, so that he could
get his first cowvid shot. We needed to
take 2 buses and then walk half an hour to find
the friggin place. Once there, we waited for 53
minutes 12 - yeah, I even count the seconds,
which saves me from looking at all the patients
surrounding me, some of whom give me the jitters,
especially the old grouches who grumble and drool
at the same time, sticking their tongues out like
bitches out of breath, as if by doing so, it
would quicken the procedure.
Before a nurse could
receive us, Unky Berky asked a very cute looking
guy if he could help us retrieve a numbered
ticket, on account that everything was written in
Hebrew. He must have been 17 or 18, had beautiful
long curly hair and eyelashes, with a pencil-thin
round-about mustache which made me want to draw a
circle around his mouth, it was so perfectly
designed. Wow, I’m waxing romantic and powetic
at the same time.
Yo, anyone of you who dares
pull faces at me will have them twisted for good!
So, if you don’t want your mouth to be
permanently stretched in a ridiculous position,
making you look like the hunchback of Notre Dame,
with eyes resembling two dangling oysters, behave
yourselves ok! Yeah, I have ESP and outlandish
powers, like that old Israeli magician Uri Geller
who can bend spoons just by concentrating on them.
So, if you try anything funny, watch your back
…
When it was my uncle’s
turn to get his shot, he was atrembling like a
bloomin leaf slapped by a tempest. I had to kick
him in the shins to stop him from shaking. He
gave a lil shriek then kept quiet.
Fortunately the nurse spoke
English. So Bonka, pink of fright, stuttered,
while dribbling like a pregnant ewe:
“Pee … pee …
pleez, don’t hu …. hu … hurt me.”
I gave him my bad woolf
look, so that he would cut out his shenanigans
and stop making me feel ashamed to be with such a
sissy of an uncle.
“Waaah!” he
screamed just as the needle got out of his arm.
“It’s finished,
it’s finished.” said the nurse,
sporting a quizzical smile, as if she had been
rehearsing a line for a play.
When we got out of the
clinic, Bonka was still all shook up and couldn’t
udder a word.
Apparently, I will soon
have to be vaccinated, on account that the young,
though they do not suffer cowwise, can
trasmit the virus to the growl-ups -
upsy daisy, so I say. Of course, when my turn
comes, I won’t be braying like my donkey of
an uncle. I would be so ashamed, then too, lil
injections don’t scare me. Am I not a
felinist? It’s the waiting that will get me
huffing and puffing, and, when it’s too long,
I gurgle moronwise.
Excerpt
9 from CORONA ZAPINETTE by Albert Russo
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