Mr. Big
“Yes,” he tooted, “there’s spring in my step and I must be spring itself!” Moments before, he had popped out of the baby’s mouth, landed on the ground with a comfortable squish, and taken his first steps still wet from the sucking.
He rolled from side to side taking in his surroundings. Clearly, he was the biggest, and from where he was standing, he was also on the inside track. “I’m Mr. Big,” he muttered tentatively and, when no one said otherwise, shouted, “I’m Mr. Big and we’re going places!” Without another thought he set off at a quick pace down the inside track.
“Ouch, ouch!” he complained after stepping on a rough stone. This will never do. I’ll need to walk on somebody. He was pleased with his idea and jumped on the first person to come by. “I’m Mr. Big and the only one that counts and my father is richer than yours.” Two steps later he stopped, wiggled a little, and bragged, “Now I’m richer than my father. And I’m going for a makeover.” He bent over and whispered, “You can be my apprentice; I promise never to fire you.”
Mr. Big chuckled. I’m lying, but as a toe I don’t have any fingers to cross…well, I don’t have them, so it doesn’t matter. It’s not a lie anyhow if it helps me. “OK, we’re here.”
Curling back, he looked up at the sign: MAKEOVERS – CHEAP!
Yes, this is the very place.
There were bells attached to the door and the ding-dinging reminded him of a cash register so when the makeover artist asked how she could be of help, he said, “Make me look very rich.”
She smiled. “Follow me, sir, we’ll go into the rich room.”
Mr. Big felt rich already. I can do anything I want. He reached up and pinched her in a very private place. She was hurt but, as a poor employee, swallowed. However, she had an idea. Instead of bringing him to the green room she continued on to the orange room. There was a picture of an orangutan on the door with a cautionary note that the color treatment in this room was not without risks.
The list was posted on the door for everyone to read. It was long, including wanting bananas at all hours, swinging from trees, and having delusions of grandeur. But Mr. Big was too lazy to read and in too much of a hurry to even look at the picture. He reached up for the employee’s private parts again but she was one step ahead of him and skipped away.
“Why don’t you sit down and put your foot up here. This won’t take long at all. And if you wish, I can put a hot wrap around your head. It’ll feel wonderful and I’ll be through before the towel gets cold.”
Mr. Big leaned back in the chair, put his foot up, and was soon sleeping. Layers of orange paint were applied to the nail and other parts of his anatomy (but no one ever said). He slept on until the paint was dry, dreaming of glory and riches. When he woke, he looked at his orange toe and started to yell, “Green is the color of …” but was assured that that was old-fashioned.
“Orange is the new color of riches and you look simply wonderful.”
He had a moment of doubt until she assured him, “And this special makeover also makes you a stable genius.”
It was enough to make him a very happy man and in gratitude he left without trying to pinch the makeover artist. He also didn’t pay for the service, which he thought was the first flowering of his genius.
MORAL: The first steps on the path of unrighteousness are often small.
- © Ken Kapp 2021
Ken was a Professor of Mathematics, a ceramicist, a welder, and an IBMer until downsized in 2000. He taught yoga until COVID-19 decided otherwise. He continues writing, living with his wife and beagle in Shorewood, Wisconsin. He enjoys chamber music and mysteries. He's a homebrewer and runs whitewater rivers.
Please visit www.kmkbooks.com.
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