Corn Pop was a bad dude, and he ran a bunch of bad boys, and I did, uh he -- and back in those days, you see how things have changed: one of the things you had to use if you use pomade in your hair you had to wear a bathing cap because of the roaches! And so he was up on the board, wouldn't listen to me. I said, "Hey, Ester, YOU, you black bastard! Off the board or I'll come up and drag you off." Well he came off, and he said "I'll meet you outside." There was a gate out here. I parked my car outside the gate and I, he said "I'll be waiting for you." He was waiting there with three guys with straight razors. Not a joke! There's a guy named Bill Wrightmouse...ha ha, sounds like White House huh? The only white guy and he did ALL the pools...cause that's how we got rid of those damn roaches. He was the mechanic, and he had hairy legs like me. And I said, "What am I gonna do?" he said, "Come on down here in the basement, where mechanics, where all the pool filter is, and we listen to the the old record player and have push-up contests".
You know the uh, uh, uh, chain, there used to be a chain that went across the deep end of the banana patch, uh, I mean pool. And he cut off a six foot length of chain, he folded it up, he said, "You walk out with that chain, and you walk to the car and say 'you may cut me man, but I'm gonna wrap this damn chain around your head.'" I said, "You kidding me." He said, "No, if you don't, don't come back," and he was right! So I walked out with the chain, and I walked up to my set of wheels, and they had in those days used to, remember the straight razors, you'd bang them on the curb, getting them rusty, putting them in the rain barrel, getting them rusty? And I looked at him. But I was smart back then, even took a damn IQ test to prove it. I said, "Come on, man," I said, "When I tell you to get off the board you get off the board, and I'll kick you out again, but I shouldn't have called you Ester Williams. I apologize for that. I apologize." But I didn't know that apology was gonna work. He said, "You apologizing to me?" I said, "I apologize but not for throwing you out, but I apologize for what I said." He said, "Okay," closed the straight razor, and my heart began to beat again. Then I remembered something my old Pappy taught me when I was knee-high to a grasshopper...around blacks, never relax!
Realizing this was my chance, I swung the chain as hard as I could at Corn Pop's head -- not a joke! Man, you shoulda seen it, that damn chain wrapped around his nappy head and that black bastard went down like a sack of goddamned potatoes! He laid there for a minute, then pulled out that straight razor and whipped it open. "Ima gunna cut you up, cracker!" he says as he gets up, blood gushing from his noggin like a stuck pig! Thinking quickly, I kicked Corn Pop in the nuts, but it only made him angrier...I knew I was in a real pickle, man. That's when the cops showed up, a couple of good old white boys -- probably Irish, all the best cops were -- and back in those days they didn't mess around with uppity darkies, especially ones with rusty straight razors! The first copper pulled out his .38 and shot Corn Pop square in the head -- not a joke! That still didn't stop him though...darkies have thick skulls ya know, scientific fact...and the bullet bounced off and hit a little pickaninny girl who had been bouncing on my lap and rubbing my hairy legs earlier that day! Now I was madder than a damn wet hen!
The cops both emptied their heaters into Corn Pop, but he just kept coming -- probably hopped up on that devil weed and cheap malt liquor. Those people LOVE their malt liquor ya know. "Enough of this malarkey!" I shouted as I ran to the patrol car and grabbed the 12 gauge scatter-gun from the rack. "Put THIS in your pipe and smoke it, you sumbitch!" I said as I leveled the gun at Corn Pop's gut and cut the black bastard in two with a load of goddamn buckshot. Blew his damn spinal column halfway across the parking lot...ya never wanna bring a straight razor to a gun fight they say, and this turkey found out the hard way. The cops cheered as Corn Pop laid there dying -- someone yelled out to get on the two-way and call for a meat-wagon and they laughed so hard I thought they'd wet their britches! We all stood there and waited for the son of a bitch to bleed out, then the cops high-fived me and told me I was one bad cat and a hero for saving their lives. I told 'em I wasn't a hero, I only did what any regular Joe would have done under the circumstances -- not a joke, man.