Short Ass
Lilit Hotham
Lilit Hotham
| Tippy, Tappy and Geronimo looked ridiculous in their get up. They were their clown names of course, well, except for Geronimo. His mother was most certainly the most evil woman alive, calling her son such a name. It was bad enough he was born with Achondroplasia (a kind of dwarfism for you not-so-smarts) but to call a child such a preposterous name? No wonder he joined the circus. It was his destiny. Me? I’m Dolores, a miniature donkey, a short ass. We were a quartet of midgets. Tippy (Gerald to be exact) was my carer. He’s a sweet guy, a little rough when he brushes my mane before a show, but he looks after me well. Tappy (Mark) was quite frankly a jerk. Some people often accuse ‘little people’ of having big attitudes. Well, this was certainly the case for Tappy. Sometimes I’d kick him and run away just for existing. He’d call me a stupid ass and then I’d poop in his bag. I bit him during a show once because he tried to set my tail on fire. We loved to hate each other. Tonight was going to be interesting. Mark decided it would be a really funny trick to put gin in the donkey’s water. Gerald was ever so nice as to refill my bucket after I kicked it over but I hadn’t planned my revenge just yet. He had it coming to him though. Like a great big freaking freight train. I didn’t explain the night’s show did I? Well now... we’re clowns. We do funny things to make simple minded people laugh (because people that look different are apparently really hilarious. Rude. We don’t laugh at ‘normal’ people). The trio of shrimps (I’m allowed to say that!) run about with silly hats and shoes and gadgets that spray water and so on tormenting each other. I admit, our best show was actually a fight between Mark and Geronimo. Bickering dwarves must just be funny to watch because the crowd was going nuts. As usual, I stepped in and acted as peacemaker and the show went on as per normal. I usually enter on my cue and the crowd ‘aww’s’ because I am so ridiculously cute you just want to squeeze me so tight my stuffing will come out. We do our Shrek act where two of the dwarves sit on each other’s shoulders donning a blanket painted to look like the green ogre, complete with head. Then I stand beside them and continue looking cute while an overhead dialogue tape plays. Gerald gives me signals - which I’ve memorised, but he doesn’t know that – and I pretend to be the irritating little donkey. It’s rather derogatory but the kids love it and I love the kids. Then I do a few little tricks then the other guys take over. Anyhow, tonight’s show was different. These three men looked absolutely ridiculous because we weren’t in the tent tonight. I wasn’t too sure, but I think we were in a theatre. I couldn’t tell you, I was just a donkey. A ridiculously cute one. For the first time in a long time, I was nervous about a show, if you could call it that. It was really more like a nightmare. Can you imagine the Rocky Horror Picture Show entwined with Arabian Nights? We’re talking donkeys and fishnets. Gerald looked petrified. His manhood was only just concealed behind a red satin thong. I was even more concerned because I kept hearing something about ‘Tippy riding Dolores onto the stage’. Mark and Geronimo had full briefs on. Poor Gerald. What did he do to deserve getting stuck in the man-thong? If I earned an income from this degrading job, I’d put $20 on one of his nuts falling out. The thought of that made my skin crawl. I brayed in self pity but copped a smack on the nose by Mark. He had better watch himself tonight. In the words of Donkey I was ‘a donkey on the edge’! I scooted to my bucket to find it missing, thanks to the stunt Tappy pulled earlier. That little man was so evil, I wanted to kick him hard in the head. Maybe that would knock some sense into him! I nervously paced backstage while the boys finished getting ready. Camisoles, boas, gloves. I had really seen too much. My mouth was so dry I began a desperate search for water. I smelled everything carefully to make sure it wasn’t gin again and found a full glass. Being vertically challenged certainly has its setbacks. I knocked over the glass, tipping the water everywhere. No! That was the only source of water! I tried licking my lips to make my mouth water but nothing helped. Gerald (bless his heart) presumed I was hungry and shoved a fistful of hay in my mouth. He meant well but it made things much worse. I tried to spit it out but the sticks stuck to my tongue! A carrot! An apple! Anything! At least it wasn’t chaff. I think I would’ve choked to death on that. Choking to death would’ve been handy right about now. “You’re up boys!” the stage director called. Someone slung a veil over my head and Gerald attached my lead rope and stood beside me, stroking me gently. I had no idea what was going on! We hadn’t rehearsed anything new! I began to panic. I licked my lips and stretched my mouth, trying to get the sharp sticks of hay out from my cheeks. The stabbing hurt so badly. Someone finally entered the room with a fresh bucket of water. Without hesitation, I darted towards the bucket, yanking Gerald with me. I only sucked down three long gulps until I was dragged side-stage by Mark and Gerald. Mark was growling as he tugged my lead rope. I needed more water. Gerald gave up and stood aside but Mark insisted I get on stage immediately before I ended up with a button fastened tail like Eeyore. That’s it. I’d had a gutful. I spun around and marched onto the stage with Gerald clambering onto my back and Mark tripping over himself as I shoved him out the way. I stood in the centre of the stage with the two pint sized men hanging off me. A little shaken, the boys composed themselves and Geronimo signalled for us to come back. We weren’t meant to be on stage yet apparently, since a man I didn’t know stood at the front of the stage talking to the crowd. He turned to look at us and we froze. Gerald slid off my back and the crowd immediately roared with laughter. It happened. I owed $20 of nonexistent salary! Gerald spun around and corrected his wardrobe malfunction. I brayed, laughing. Mark led me back off stage, howling with mirth, his make-up smudging with the tears of laughter that streaked his face. Take two. Gerald was dressed correctly now and I allowed him to climb aboard. He hung on tight and his legs wrapped around my belly felt somewhat comforting. Our cue finally came and Geronimo waddled onstage to begin our act. He gave me the signal and I walked sensibly back onto the stage. Then I remembered I hadn’t got my revenge on Mark yet. I watched him carefully as he performed his improv'. The crowd laughed. Why wouldn’t they? We were funny looking right? Mark’s shiny gold underwear was captivating as it sparkled in the stage lights. I plotted my revenge. I waited patiently for my chance. Then Gerald slid off my back – without any more wardrobe malfunctions – and stood beside me. I was free now, I went for it. In one quick moment I took Mark’s bloomers in my mouth and tugged. They tore away with an audible rip and I made a dash for the stage exit, gold undies in my mouth. I kicked and bounced away victoriously as Mark stood half naked and red faced with the crowd erupting into thunderous laughter. I couldn’t believe my luck! The green room door was open. I ran as fast as I could through the door knocking over the bucket in my wake. Footsteps and yelling followed me but I continued through the maze of halls until I broke free into the night. I galloped down the busy NYC street with the gold jocks in my mouth and a cast of strange characters yelling behind me. Nothing stood in my way. My way to freedom. © Lilit Hotham All Rights Reserved www.millionstories.net |
| We like this story because: It arrived at Christmas and is narrated by a donkey in a circus! It is a story full of gusto and packed with fun. |
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| "Nine Kilometres" by Lilit Hotham |
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