Alfie and Connie had been together for just over a month. Both had been married before. Connie was a local person, but Alfie hailed from another part of the country altogether. One day they were walking along the street when a stranger approached Alfie and said, “Gus! I haven’t seen you for ages! How are things going?” Alfie looked flustered and uncomfortable. “I’m not Gus,” he stuttered.
Connie noted that this had happened several times before during their month together. Once someone even called out “Gus!” from across the road, and Alfie had turned suddenly as one does when responding to having ones name called out.
Then a letter arrived in the mail address to Mr. Augustine Cladworthy. Usually Alfie was all too keen to check the mail box, but on this day he was feeling a little poorly so Connie did the checking.
“Who exactly is Mr. Augustine Cladworthy?” asked Connie. “This getting called Gus has happened far too often for it to be a coincidence. It’s time you came clean.”
Alfie realized he was trapped. There was no way out. He had tried to dream up an escape story he could use should his real identity be discovered. He’d been unsuccessful at imagining something cogent, and now he was against the wall.
“Well,” he admitted, “I was the whistle blower that spilt the beans on the McPherson case just over a year ago. The government gave me a new identity. I was Gus, and now I’m Alfie.”
“We suspected so,” said Connie, “but just wanted to make sure.” She pulled out her pistol and wreaked her revenge.
Gus had a big mouth.
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What a big mouth you have, Gus. Max, I’m writing a ballet at present on Little Red Riding Hood so having big teeth (and mouth) is on my brain.
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Let the wolf win…
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He does!
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Cool! That is the Bruce we all know and love.
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He pretend to turn into a handsome Prince and after the wedding we see his bushy tail.
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Bruce when you write something like this…who or where do you present it to?
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I used to in the old days have several professional theatres eager to do everything what I wrote – both plays and dance theatre. That was all twenty years or so ago. Now I just write for the waste bin. It’s where everything should’ve perhaps gone in the first place! But I do enjoy creating these things – so it’s a retirement interest – particularly now that it’s winter…. Besides, my chronic heart disease precludes any pre-performance excitement that a production would evoke.
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I didn’t know if you had a school or someone in mind to give it to. It is a thrill creating no matter the audience or non-audience.
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OMG!!! Poor Gus/Alfie/Whoever.
A ballet? With tutus and leotards and stuff?
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Who cares about wearing a tutu these days – nothing that a bit of makeup can’t cover. I’ve written half a dozen or so over the years. This one is slightly different in as much the others all got done and this one never will!
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It would take a lot of makeup to cover what a tutu might on some people!
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Revenge for breakfast is best served with toast and stuff.
P.S. Will the ballet have guns and knives and revenge and stuff?
I haven’t worn a tutu in ages, or ever if it comes to that.
Terry
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You would be cast as the big bad wolf.
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I hope Connie got a nice bonus. She deserves it.
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She got an extra box of ammo.
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That’s a large bonus these days.
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Bang, bang!
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Connie conned you, Gus.
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That’s what people don’t realize about professional killing. It seems all glamorous, but it actually requires a lot of really boring investigative work. Or so I would imagine.
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Yes, having to murder can test ones patience.
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