Bingo – King of the Bongos. Part 12

Bingo – King of the Bongos. Part 12

It is Tuesday afternoon; hot day and I had just finished taking photographs of dead hippopotamuses in the dried out Save river. (oddly I seem to think it was called Sabi.)

(That word, hippopotamuses, has nothing to do with hippos amusing themselves with potatoes.)

I was walking across Birchenough Bridge, musing away, looking around and wondering if I could get a lift to Bulawayo before I died of dehydration as a bad man had stolen my car. When suddenly ---

This bloke, a white man, dressed in a Hugo Boss suit (he the one that dressed the NAZIS), about 6 foot one, clean shaven. The small wind carries the drift of Lacoste eau de cologne. A spikey gelled blonde hair cut and in his right hand, a large knobkerrie.

He let out a scream – ‘Jesus Christ, God in Heaven, Kill the Jew.’
This is in perfect English. I think. I had in my ears a pair of Bluetooth plugs pumping out Billy Idol’s ‘Flesh for Fantasy’ from my MP3 player installed in my left-hand shirt pocket. The right-hand pocket was occupied by a pack of 20 fags. Only 17 left.

‘Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Can you please repeat.  As I reluctantly pulled the earphones out my arse, oops, er, I mean my ears. Hah hah... Stupid spell checker.

This man, stopped and waving his knob, shouted again, ‘Jesus Christ, God in Heaven, Kill the Jew.’

‘I am not Jewish. I think you are on the wrong bridge. Besides, if you beat me to death, none of it will go viral. Personally, I would recommend you try this stunt on London bridge. You get famous.’

The man stops waving his knobkerrie, sits down and cries. What a loser. Starts to mumble some shite about God saving the world and he a servant and such rubbish, but I need also salvation. I am fucking dying of thirst.

I had clocked that there was a rather sexy Mercedes Benz parked up at the end of the bridge. All I needed was the keys. With the wanker moaning and groaning it was easy to take the knobkerrie out of his hand and few nicely placed blows popped a large quantity of his brains out of his ears.

Bit of a coincidence as I had returned my earphones just in time to sing along with ‘The Sound of Silence...’ Great song. Looting the dead is common practice. Carries a lesser sentence as looting the alive is classified as ‘mugging’. Nice watch. Cartier. I whistled happily, 500 green backs, and the car keys. Congo here we come.

I have a meeting. Bingo, my best China and Tarzan need my help.

- - -

Who is this lunatic?  – why has the story changed tense? Is this a trick – stay tuned as the plot thickens…