Fiction LNE
Fiction Friday

My Fool is a Crock

by: Zach

It is quite plain to see that my fool, Henriquez, is, by most definitions of the word, a crock.

And that's not the half of it. Henriquez is also quite expensive to maintain. He subscribes to Crock's Digest and Crock World. He's an important member at Crocks Anonymous, and sometimes he even drags me to meetings! I said to him, "Aren't you afraid people will find out you're a crock?" He laughed and replied, "Didn't you see the title, Mr. King? It's anonymous! No one will know it's us in there."

Oh, bother. I forgot what I was getting at.

One of the symptoms of Henriquez's crockiness is his inability to get his thoughts in order. He'll mention something, then talk about something entirely different, then he'll go back to his first point. It's kind of sad, really.

Yesterday at breakfast, when we were having sushi and hot dogs, he put ketchup and mustard on his hot dog! I mean, that's all he put on it! Execpt if you count when he dips it in tartar sauce. After breakfast, he stands on his hands, but he's not very good at it because the sushi and hot dogs throw off his balance. Then, having completed his fooling for the morning, he watches soap opera reruns. "All work and no play makes Henriquez a striking union member, Mr. King," he tells me.

Oh yeah, I remember now. At the Crock's Anonymous meetings, Henriquez picks his nose. It's like he doesn't know everyone is watching!

Into the afternoon, Henriquez switches from soap opera reruns to A-Team reruns, because he likes to hear Mr. T extend his pity. I have no idea what he does in the evening, because that's when I hit the bar.

I've mentioned the possibility of him leaving a couple of times, but he says he won't until his contract expires. The thing is, we never made a contract. I can't remember hiring the guy. I just had a little too much whiskey at the bar, and the next morning, he was there at breakfast eating his hot dogs all weird. I've never asked his about the contract because I don't want to embarass myself with my ignorance. After all, he's the fool, not me! Right?

I'm not fronting or anything. He thinks I'm royalty because my last name is King. I've checked the prices on eBay, and it turns out that fools are hard to get these days.