Merchant of the First Guild

“You’re the rudest motherfucker ever,” Mr. Black said to Mr. Pink.

“Why?” Pink asked, “Because I said what everyone was think, but didn’t have the guts to say?”

They were sitting outside, talking, enjoying beers, the night filled with glittering stars and a waning half-moon. It was Mr. Green that started the conversation.

“Have any of you seen the movie ‘Inglorious Bastards,’ by Quentin Tarantino?” he asked.

Some of us had, some had not. Black hadn’t.

“That movie gets me,” Green added, “After all, I’m the son of Polish-Jews who survived the Nazi death camps. Makes me wonder where he gets his ideas.”

“I can tell you,” Pink said.

“No you can’t,” Green said. “He doesn’t even know where he comes up with some the shit, himself.”

“What was the story you were telling us before you changed the subject?” Black asked.

“You mean about exterminating ground squirrels?” he said.

“Yeah,” Pink said.

“What about it?” Green said.

“You have a six-million dollar contract to kill them,” Pink said, adding, “How do you kill them again?”

“Dude,” Black said, “You ain’t going there, are you?”

Pink ignored him.

“We capture them in cages,” Green responded. “Then we empty the cages into what amounts to a garbage can, put the lid on it, and hook the can up to the exhaust pipe on one of our service trucks and gas them.”

“There you go,” Pink said.

“There I go what?” he asked.

“You’re a Polish-Jew that uses the same friggin’ method of killing squirrels that the Nazis used on your people,” Pink said. “Where do you think you got your idea?”

“Man, that’s some heavy shit,” Green said.

“Your jus’ like Quentin Tarantino  and you don’t even effing know it,” Mr. Pink said.

“Wow, thanks for the compliment,” Mr. Green said.

That’s when Mr. Black chimed in, “You’re the rudest motherfucker ever.”