The Tale of Sir Muskers

Misha Trubs, contributor

On a gray October afternoon, Sir Muskers stumbled in to his favorite Prohibition Bar, conveniently located below an old Cheese Factory, and ordered his favorite drink, a whiskey tonic. A once-proud businessman, he sat at the bar alone, and close to broke. His beloved Philadelphia Athletics had just won the 1930 World Series, so he finally had something to smile about. But “Pretty Boy” Floyd was still on the run, and bread prices were an astounding 10 cents a loaf. After the stock market crash of 1929, Sir Muskers lost most of his fortune, his beloved bitch Butterscotch left him, and he had to sell his Rolls Royce just to pay the bills. Adjusting to a new life wasn’t easy: going from T-Bone steak dinners every night to dinners out of a can was a new low for Sir Muskers. He had a little bit of money left, and he was advised to invest in to the stock of some new invention that they called Scotch tape. As he sat and thought about his past, present, and future, a tear came to his eye. He wasn’t sad; he just knew things were going to get better.

As he was loading up his Savinelli Nonpareil pipe with more tobacco, he suddenly caught a whiff of a female stray he used to run with back in his adolescent days in Brooklyn, and he decided to spark up a conversation with her. She smelled of fresh hunter’s sausage, and that immediately turned Sir Muskers on. Already three whiskey tonics deep, he decided to impress her by balancing his pocket watch on his nose. She giggled and wiggled her little tail, at which point Mr. Muskers knew he had a shot at not spending another cold night alone. He invited her back to his barn, but he had a hard time being a good host, because he no longer had his trusted butler, Chancy — sadly, Muskers couldn’t afford to pay his salary. But that didn’t stop them from having a good time. They spend the whole night howling at the moon, licking each other’s faces, and smelling each others rectums, and eventually making sweet love while “Mood Indigo” by Duke Ellington was playing in the background.

The next morning, when Sir Muskers woke up, his bed companion was gone.  A note that said, “If you wish to see this bitch again you will give us what we want.” was on the pillow. He knew that it must have been his small stock purchase in a hot new lemon soda drink, 7Up. Desperate and in a state of panic, Sir Muskers sent his fastest pigeon, Ramses, to deliver a help message to his best friend George Kelly. A day later, George replied. Upon arrival, Sir Muskers provided his friend with a machine gun (his weapon of his choice), Cuban cigars, and a bottle of Old Crow Whiskey. That night five were killed, with only one survivor. Before he died, he muttered, “Machine Gun Kelly did it.”

A few months later, 7Up was the most popular drink at every Pharmacy Bar, making every Soda Jerk happy, Scotch tape became a household item, and Sir Muskers was back on top of the world. His new business partner, Charles, wanted to meet him and tell him about a board game he was working on called Monopoly. He boarded the first plane going Southwest, ignoring the warnings of a possible dust storm. That morning on January 13th,1939 or something, his plane crashed in Kansas City. He left behind his beloved lady, 54 offspring, and a strong legacy that will never be forgotten.


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