One fine morning, while I was at Ray Liotta's house, I was going thru his
selection of fine wines, and his antique jewelry, when, to my surprise, i saw a
portrait of his dog, "George the Third", a young French Rottweiler.
I
was in such awe of this magnificent piece, that I had no choice but to pick it
up and take a closer look.
After looking at this wonderful display of
craftsmanship and artwork, I had no idea what far off place I was wandering to,
because at the time I just appeared to be walking around your everyday celebrity
living room, but I just so happened to end up stumbling upon his bedroom, where
he lay quietly sleeping.
The sheet that he had draped over him--I think
it was made of Persian cat hair....I'm not too sure on that, but it was
definitely some kind of animal.....but that has nothing to do with what I'm
about to tell you--the covers, and those spectacular sheets, were somewhat
tossed off of him..... you know.... ruffled about the bed and partially on the
floor.
But here's the interesting part: I then noticed the underwear
that he was wearing. It was unlike any under garment I had ever laid eyes on.
For one, they were just immaculate. It was almost as if they just glowed in the
slight darkness of the room, shining like a beacon in the night.
But on
a square section on the back, I'd have to say it was on his right butt cheek,
for lack of a better term, there appeared a tiny portait of Margaret Thatcher.
After standing there for about an hour or so, in complete awe of this shockingly
gorgeous sight, I thought to myself, "He must have more...I must....I must see
them!"
So i slowly made my way to his fancy European dresser drawer, and
began to slowly search through the belongings, but all I could find was, your
run-of-the-mill assortment of underwear, ties, socks, etc.
But then,
just as I was about to give up on the search, to my curious delight, I noticed a
sparkling key on the top of his desk perched near the window. I thought to
myself, "Hmmm, that's peculiar. Why would there just be a key sitting there in
such a consipicuous location?" Of course, I decided to pick it up, but it wasn't
like any ordinary key. It had, on the handle there, now that i think about it,
the shape of briefs. The handle of the key was shaped like underwear!
I
looked at the key, then i focused on the handle, then i looked around the room,
and in the far corner there was a fine gold chest, just lying there, practically
calling out to me with its piercing color. Then my heart stopped. I knew that
this chest was where my "treasure" would lay. That's right. That's where i would
find Ray, uh, what's his last name again? Ah yes....Liotta, that's
right....that's where i would find Ray Liotta's Underwear Collection!
So
i walked over to the chest, and i put the key into the....hole, I guess you
could say, and then I turned the key, and with one small click, just like that,
the fortune, treasure, the wonderful, wonderful things that i am about to tell
you about, appeared before my weeping eyes. My sweaty hands were quivering with
delight and I was trembling in anticipation. The kind of sensation you get the
first time you look at a Playboy, you know that feeling? Nerves, anxiety and
excitement all at once.
The underwear were flawless, if I dare even call
them that. These garments far surpassed the mere title of "underwear". I thought
to myself, "Do I dare even touch them with my oily hands? Do I dare even touch
them with my impure body and unsure mind?"
Then it felt as if the devil
himself were inside of me telling me "C'mon, pick it up, bro, you know you want
to, Sparky. (I don't know why he always calls me that. No one has ever called me
that except for him.) C'mon it's right there, ese, (No, the devil is not
Mexican. I don't know why he speaks this way) and he's still asleep, he's not
gonna know anything dude."
So, hands still trembling, I reached down,
into what some, including yours truly, might even consider Heaven. My fingers
were millimeters away from the soft fabric as suddenly, from behind me, I heard
"Hey. Hey, you fucking freak! What the fuck are you doing with my underwear?!
Get the fuck out of my house! Now, motherfucker!!!"
And just like that,
like I had awaken from a bittersweet dream, I was pulled away, arrested and
taken to the local police station.
Mr. Liotta now has a restraining
order against me, and I can never see his magical underwear collection again. I
just have one question for you, Ray. Why give me such a close glimse of Heaven
just to damn me to Hell?!!!! Why? WHY???!!!