Post by OscarWillebeest on Apr 2, 2008 18:33:29 GMT -5
translated from the Afrikaans "Die waarheid omtrent Henry."
Based upom actual facts,
Mary Gonzales visited the mortuary 6 years ago. And Mary Gonzales was devastated when she identified her husband’s body. And Mary Gonzales went home to mourn her loss, while the deputy sheriff took Henry’s fingerprints. And the following
week the fat white sheriff phoned Mary Gonzales to inform her that indeed it was her Henry whom they have slaughtered to determine cause of death.
And Mary Gonzalez then sent her Henry on his final journey in a beautiful, dark mahogany coffin, lined with white velvet, and surrounded by zillions of flowers. But that is not all, because, along with the coffin went part of her soul, on that balmy day, during the fall of 2002
And six years later Mary Gonzalez and her cousin visited the K-mart, one Saturday morning, there in Redwood City. And Mary Gonzales could almost swear that the beggar sitting next to the entrance is none other than her Henry. And Mary Gonzales went home, and Mary Gonzales contemplated profoundly, and Mary Gonzales then sent her Cousin to go and make sure. And Mary Gonzales’s cousin returned to say yes: indeed it was Mary Gonzales’s Henry.
Of course Mary Gonzales was decidedly confused, for how the fuck could it be possible? And Mary Gonzales went to double check, together with her cousin. Yes, indeed it was her Henry, with everything he owned bundled in a torn K-mart paper bag. Now Mary Gonzales was totally out of it, and in silence she screamed her way towards the sheriff’s office.
Says Mary Gonzales to the fat, white sheriff: “You must immediately fingerprint him, so that the court can declare him to be alive.”
And the fat, white sheriff thinks deep, and the fat white sheriff thinks hard, whilst sipping an ice cold coke. Sighingly he then declared: “Mary Gonzales, listen very carefully: at issue is not whether or not your Henry is alive. At issue is the fact that when you beg, you're better off being dead.”
Based upom actual facts,
Mary Gonzales visited the mortuary 6 years ago. And Mary Gonzales was devastated when she identified her husband’s body. And Mary Gonzales went home to mourn her loss, while the deputy sheriff took Henry’s fingerprints. And the following
week the fat white sheriff phoned Mary Gonzales to inform her that indeed it was her Henry whom they have slaughtered to determine cause of death.
And Mary Gonzalez then sent her Henry on his final journey in a beautiful, dark mahogany coffin, lined with white velvet, and surrounded by zillions of flowers. But that is not all, because, along with the coffin went part of her soul, on that balmy day, during the fall of 2002
And six years later Mary Gonzalez and her cousin visited the K-mart, one Saturday morning, there in Redwood City. And Mary Gonzales could almost swear that the beggar sitting next to the entrance is none other than her Henry. And Mary Gonzales went home, and Mary Gonzales contemplated profoundly, and Mary Gonzales then sent her Cousin to go and make sure. And Mary Gonzales’s cousin returned to say yes: indeed it was Mary Gonzales’s Henry.
Of course Mary Gonzales was decidedly confused, for how the fuck could it be possible? And Mary Gonzales went to double check, together with her cousin. Yes, indeed it was her Henry, with everything he owned bundled in a torn K-mart paper bag. Now Mary Gonzales was totally out of it, and in silence she screamed her way towards the sheriff’s office.
Says Mary Gonzales to the fat, white sheriff: “You must immediately fingerprint him, so that the court can declare him to be alive.”
And the fat, white sheriff thinks deep, and the fat white sheriff thinks hard, whilst sipping an ice cold coke. Sighingly he then declared: “Mary Gonzales, listen very carefully: at issue is not whether or not your Henry is alive. At issue is the fact that when you beg, you're better off being dead.”