From the score for ‘Song’
© by Norman 0. Mustill
Subject I
He appeared in our office dressed in uniform. He was asking us to believe that he had ever fought for anything in his life. The uniform didn’t go with the face. The jaw seemed too weak to support his pants. His chest was puffed up at expense of his shoulders. He claimed the bullet went right through him without even wrinkling his shirt.
We threw him out of the office.
Subject 2
She was blond.
That was enough for me but not for my partner. He wanted to throw her out right away. She had a rip up her nylon stockings that looked like she’d been mauled by a dog. A couple of curlers were hanging from what now looked like a wig. One breast didn’t seem to fit with the look in her eyes. She was muttering some story about losing her place somewhere in a mans twisted mind. My partner threw her out.
I gave her a wink.
Subject 3
He looked as though he’d been hiding under a stone. He had a facial twitch and kept running his hands over a patch of hair that looked like it had recently been yanked out of his scalp. He had blotches and bruises all over his puffy skin and his whole body looked as though it had given up the ghost long ago. He had a patch over one eye and the one he was looking out of reflected no light. Before we could decide if we would throw him out or not he walked past us and jumped through the window. Lucky for us it was open. The last time we had to replace the glass.
Subject 4
This one was too young and we knew we would have to throw it back in the water or face legal charges. I was flattered that she seemed to linger with her eyes over a part of my body that I had long since figured was a dead deal. My partner already had the door open and with a friendly gesture was escorting her away while I whispered my number into her ear and pinched her ass.
Subject 5
This one would have about enough time to put his papers in order before the earth opened up beneath his feet and swallowed what was left of him. He seemed to be looking right through us. He was grinning as though he knew something we didn’t. I thought maybe my zipper was down. I looked over at my partner and he thought the same thing. What does this old buzzard want I thought. I hadn’t seen one this old since I could remember. He seemed to be hard of hearing. When I asked him to leave he took a seat. Once he sat down there was nothing we could do but grab the seat with him in it and throw him down the stairs.
I looked at my partner and he looked at me and we both shook our heads.
Good help is so hard to come by.
