Mouse-Kicker Guy

I saw Mouse-Kicker Guy the other day. He was out, kicking away at mice, which is why we call him Mouse-Kicker Guy. Makes sense, doesnít it? If your gonna give a guy a nick-name, make sure it suits him.

"Whoís that?"

"Oh, thatís Hamburger-Ketchup Guy."

"What does he do?"

"He puts mustard on hot dogs."

See? Make no sense. It just sounds stupid, doesnít it?

Oh, sure thereís the ironic variety of nick-names. Like calling a bald guy "Curly," or calling a seven foot tall weight lifter "Tiny." Of course, if youíre going to call a seven foot tall weight lifter "Tiny" youíd better ask his permission first. Make sure heís alright with the idea. You donít want him mad you. Look at him. One thought goes through your mind. "Iíve got arms like that, but theyíre attached to my ass and I call them legs." You donít want to call him anything he doesnít want to be called.

So, anyway, yeah, we could have gone with the ironic nick-name and called him "Mouse-Lover Guy" and the irony would be, of course, that he really doesnít love mice, but some people might not know that and theyíd think he was some kind of pervert. "Mouse-Lover Guy." Sounds like the kind of guy you want to keep your children away from, doesnít it?

Now, "Mouse-Kicker Guy" just sounds fun. And he is. Kicking away at mice. All day long. Heís never actually hit one. Thatís the great part. Heíll just kick wildly, miss the mice and kick again. Sometimes he kicks so hard that he actually knocks himself over. Itís like a slapstick movie, when heís around. Thatís why I say heís good fun for kids. Theyíll laugh their butts off for hours watching him trying to kick the mice.

Sometimes, there arenít even any mice around. Actually, most times there arenít any mice around. But Mouse-Kicker Guy, heíll just be sitting there in a chair or standing there staring at a tree or something, then suddenly heíll yell, "MOUSE!" and start kicking at the air.

Oh, heís lots of fun.

Once, we were standing outside the pizza place and Mouse-Kicker Guy was telling a bunch of us about the Panzarotti Conspiracy when he suddenly screamed (say it with me, now), "MOUSE!" We all jumped back, because we know better than to be within range of one of his feet when he starts yelling. (Boot-To-The-Mouth Guy got himself a whole new nick-name by standing too close. He still eats through a straw and itís been more than three years, now.) So, Mouse-Kicker Guy is leaping about, feet flying through the air, flailing away and then, BOOM, ker-SMASH! He hits the window of the pizza place and it just shatters. Pizza Guy called the cops and they showed. Mouse-Kicker Guy kept telling them that he didnít break the window, the mouse did. The cops didnít look like they believed him until the rest of us backed up his story, told them we saw it, too.

Hey, thatís what friends are for.

Even if youíre a big loony like Mouse-Kicker Guy.

So, anyway, like I was saying, I saw Mouse-Kicker Guy the other day. We passed each other on the street. I said, "Howís it going, Mouse-Kicker Guy?"

He said, "Going good, Website-Funny-Jokes Guy." (He gave me that nick-name himself. No one helped him.)

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Looking for mice to kick," he answered as his keen eye surveyed the street. "Thereís one!" he bellowed and he went bounding down the sidewalk, after it.

As I watched him get his foot stuck in a trash can, I couldnít help thinking, the world needs more people like Mouse-Kicker Guy.

Thatís my two cents worth, anyway.

tga

 

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