I Thought There'd Be More Chest-Faced Men At This Festival
Oy! Eyes down here.
It be not easy having a face on thy chest, I tell thee. To sup, I must sit on stacks of rough parchment. Nurples of purple do leave me with a pinched eye. The most skilled of barbers struggles when their customer hath no skull.
The worst be the woefully inaccurate manuscripts: what doth those monks be smoking? We doth not be cannybyles, we weareth clothes, and we (unfortunately) be not giants. Each new woodcut maketh mine chest fall with sadness.
Stylle, I had some hope when I heard of Headlysse Feste. A full three days of revelry, wine, and a cook-thine-own capon station. I readied my finest v-chest tunic and was excited for a respite from my daily labors as the town belt salesman. It seemed like the event of a lifetime. Finally, a chance for the lower of visage to enjoy themselves and mingle. If I played my Karnöffel right, I might even swap bellies.
Alack, the day hath come and here I stand, the sole chest-faced man in attendance at Headlysse Fest.
Everyone keeps slapping me ‘pon mine back, which really hurts, and asking me how I brush mine teeth. I be not tall enough to take part in any of the rydes. There also be too many vendors of hats. ‘Tis most humiliating.
What’s more, thysse whole affair be an affront to the front-faced. I thought I had finally spotted a fellow chest-faced man, only for it to be a head-faced man with paint pon his middle in a twisted grynne. Worst of all, thysse cruel japester let me spend a goodly while talking to his gut before revealing his deception with a cruel laugh from above.
Rather than make a scene, methinks I shall linger yonder ‘til I mayest depart without farewell (what the headed men call a “Headless Exit”).
Perhaps myne friend Karl shall hath more luck at the Gathering of Arse-Faced Men in Shrewsbury. I cann’t possibly feel like more of an arse there than I do here.
W.A. Hughes is a jovial crafter of lists, articles, and humorous scribblings. He doth dwell in a tree stump surrounded by woodland creatures that occasionally ferry his writings to McSweeney's, Points in Case, Slackjaw, and other lofty scriptoriums. Follow him on thy Twitter @wahwashere or send him a missive at firstname.lastname@example.org. www.wahwriter.com