The inimitable Dan Castell sends in an update:
(1)
I have amended the blurb to include a few lines, as follows:
In this light-hearted short story, Groucho and Chico Marx are on a desperate search for God when they run into a pack of joke-starved comedians led by W.C. Fields. And it happens like this:
A portly soul steps forth from the mist.
Groucho does a double-take at the soul, then reaches out to shake hands. “You’re…you’re W.C. Fields. Mr. Fields, you’re one of my heroes.”
“Mine too,” says Fields in his trademark twang. “Take pride in your good taste, son. Now go away—you bother me.”
“But Mr. Fields. I learned everything I know about comedy watching you. You made me what I am today.”
“That’s the most revolting testimonial I’ve ever heard,” says Fields. “I plead not guilty on all counts. Who are you, anyway, my indefatigable carbuncle?”
“Don’t you remember me? I’m Groucho Marx.”
“Marx…Marx?” Fields scratches the back of his neck with his bamboo cane. “Oh yes, I recall that catastrophic encounter. You muffed that scrub grounder during the ‘08 World Series. You cost Ed ‘Two Toes’ Jones his shut out. Your team lost the game and I lost fifty dollars. Fortunately, I deducted it as educational expenses.”
“Educational expenses?”
“Yes, I learned never to bet on a game until you know the final outcome.”
11-year-old boys at my house swear by this guy. I’d describe Castell’s genre as sort of like the Hitchhiker’s Guide, only it’s the Marx Brothers wandering Heaven, and replace the existential theme with laugh-out-loud one-liners. Or think Monty Python, only toned down to purely mild-PG. (And no, I still don’t own a Kindle, and I haven’t seen this exact story. Have seen his other work and enjoyed it.)
The update continues:
(2)
It is also about to being joined by its cousin, “The Marx Brothers Meet the Doctors of Death,” whenever the e-gods deign to inflict it upon an innocent and unsuspecting blogosphere (in other words, when it works its way through the Amazon’s mysterious innards to go live).
(3)
Likewise, over in Barnes and Noble land with both stories, where they tell me they will be available in “24-72 hours”, which actually makes the cable guys look like Mr. Monk in the matter of appointment keeping.
And don’t fret yourself: I’ll be glad to send follow-up when that watershed moment arrives.
I’ll let you know when he lets me know.
Hee Hee! I went through a stage as a kid where I loved all these guys. “Come by my place,” WCF said to Charlie McCarthy, “I’ll let you ride piggyback on my buzz-saw!”
🙂
Hehe. Yes, funny. I was having a very hard time appreciating the bigger ms. of Dan’s that I was looking at. Kept coming back to him with all these complaints. Then I let the boy read it and proof it in lieue of his regularly scheduled grammar, and he kept coming to me and saying, “Mom, did you read the scene about the __________ yet??”. And then I realized, “Wait a minute, this isn’t a book written for busy middle-aged ladies . . .” So I had to apologize to Castell for all the abuse I’d given to him about how he didn’t write like a girl.