| I am having a terrible day. I’ve been doing some low-budget lawyering in a three city circuit of my own. Different from Fred. Very low comedy. Slip and fall and bad restaurant type cases. I win a few. I lose a lot. So, I decide to take my practice to a place with a sense of humor – Thaliopolis. As I said, the burg has been in existence some thirty years by the time I first approach its walls. Having gained a rep as a garden spot for giggles, most people go there to forget their troubles. I go there hoping my troubles will forget me. I want to start stuffing bucks in the bank instead of acting as a candy store for creditors every time I win a little case. Donkeys cost, and as walking is good exercise, you can picture me leaving the town of Ichthyopolis, where things have not gone so swimmingly, as I head down the road to the town that Fred and his fans built. I would not have believed it possible, but I soon overtake a troop of horse soldiers, huge hulking types on tiny ponies. The poor creatures are straining to put hoof before hoof under the weight of the tremendous goons on their backs. The soldiers themselves are falling asleep in the saddle. But whenever one of them nods off, another slap him across the brain box with the flat his sword. Not wishing to mix with these unpleasant characters, I hang back for a time. We drag along until, one by one, all six of them fall asleep, and their ponies stagger to a halt. I take this opportunity to sneak past the group, some of whom are snoring loudly. Just as I turn to put some distance between me and then, I bump into the nose of a pony I hadn’t seen before. He’s carrying a Spartan guy. The guy growls, “Where go so fast, huh?” As impressed as I am by his gift of gab, the point of his sword pressing between my eyes impresses me more. “Careful friend,” I cautioned him. “I happened to be an attorney at law, with years of experience ruining the sleep, spoiling the digestion and destroying the quality of life of much bigger and fiercer types than you. And the horse you’re riding on, too, for that matter.” This is in direct violation of my rule of never crossing anybody whose biceps are bigger around than my head. You know how it goes. When you’re down on your luck, you tend to press it. “You lawyer?” he grunts, his bulky frame recoiling as he sheathes his weapon. “You got it the first time.” The guy goes into a swoon and begins to chant: |
“I ANNOY YA YOU ANNOY ME WE ANNOY EACH
OTHER CALL YOUR LAWYER HE CALL MY LAWYER
AND THEY ANNOY EACH OTHER I ANNOY YA YOU
ANNOY ME WE ANNOY EACH OTHER CALL YOUR
LAWYER HE CALL MY LAWYER AND THEY ANNOY
EACH OTHER I ANNOY YA YOU ANNOY ME WE
ANNOY EACH OTHER CALL YOUR LAWYER HE
CALL MY . . . .”
| And on and on, his eyes rolling around in his head. I’ve heard this chant before. It was in Corinth. Or maybe Rhodes. I was repping some guy who’d had his tootsies rolled over by a Spartan meat wagon. Defendant crooned this ditty before we went to trial. “Prayer to Schmooze Court House Gods,” he called it. And funny how my argument was real good, but the judge was unaccountably prejudiced against my client. These guys are Spartans on the warpath. The path we are on leads to one place – Thaliopolis. I don’t think Spartans go anywhere for laughs, at least not the kind you and I would understand. Looking back at the sleeping six, who are beginning to stir and automatically join in the chant, I see something that chills my blood. In the far distance, where I would expect to see the town I just left, I see columns of black smoke billowing to the sky. At the base of the billows, flames. My stomach plunges to the center of the earth. This situation spells only one work to any half-civilized Greek — am-scray. I let my dogs show me the way. Soon I’m over the hill, off the road, and as far as I can get from the incantation-of-the-month club. This should be the end of the story. But, you know, the thing about ancient Greece I absolutely love is how, just when you think you’re safe and all, some god or nymph or something comes along and gets in your face. This is a particularly cute aspect of life in ancient Greece. |
| Ancient Greasepaint Copyright 1990 Louder Than a Lie Publications, LLC and David Keith Johnson All Rights Reserved |