After All The Jacks Are In Their Boxes

By Giovanni Pirozzi

It's an adventure, wrapped in fantasy, inside a fairytale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781543996579

Book preview

© 2020 Giovanni Pirozzi All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN 978-1-54399-656-2 Ebook 978-1-54399-657-9

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, in the lands of Wynken, Blynken and Nod, there was a picnic. A grand and extravagant picnic in lush, green meadows next to a crystal, blue river. A thousand and one people had come. There was a warm breeze in the sky and it was saturated with kites, balloons and bubbles. There were yo-yo contests, make your own wine workshops and film critics playing horseshoes. Couples danced on rose petals, children played duck, duck goose and history professors played hump the hostess. Scores of picnic tables, a hundred feet long, set with the finest dishware and silver goblets were loaded with an array of delicious bowls of fruits and salads and platters of meats and cheeses. You could smell the fresh baked bread from two miles away. Bands played a little bit of jazz and a touch of rock n’ roll, just enough country and a whole mess of soul. They had it made in the shade…or so it seemed.

Walking across the bridge, from the other side of the river, came Winston James Witherspoon. He was tall, blond and handsome, dressed in a custom tailored, grey business suit, pink and grey striped tie, platinum wedding band, deluxe wrist watch and buttery soft, black leather wingtips. When he reached the other side of the bridge, he lit up a cigarette with a gold lighter with the initials WJW engraved on it and surveyed the grand shindig.

Pretty girls and sandwiches, said Winston to himself. Genius.

After a few moments, he strolled into the meadow. A bubble broke on his nose and he nearly got knocked over by a naked girl running inside of a hula hoop. After passing a group of renaissance transvestites admiring each other’s tattoos, Winston came upon a picnic table with a few open seats. Just as he sat down, a drunk man holding a bottle of champagne and wearing nothing but tighty whitey underwear, a red bozo wig and a raging boner, leaned over his back.

Have some champagne, buddy, slurred the drunk man as he filled Winston’s goblet, spilling some onto Winston’s blazer. Enjoy! he said and stumbled away.

Winston turned around, annoyed, and wiped his jacket, then took a drink of champagne. It was then that he noticed the person sitting next to him was actually a meerkat, sitting up straight and proper, in a lavender coat and pink carnation.

Cheers. said the meerkat, raising his goblet to Winston. My name is Billy, what’s yours?

Yeah…hi….Winston. he answered.

Billy nibbled on a celery stick and watched Winston as he grabbed a role to make a sandwich.

Do you know how to play the bassoon? asked Billy. I love the bassoon. It’s so cool.

No, said Winston.

Let the man get some food, interrupted a honey badger sitting across from Billy, before you ask him a hundred questions.

The honey badger was dressed in a yellow