Blackhumouristpress's Blog

November 10, 2010

The Milosevic Twins or To Sing Like Ethel Merman

Filed under: Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 9:31 pm
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                The Milosevic Twins decided after the Yugoslavian War,  to get rid of their last name after Slobodan created all sorts of problems, issues, wars, slaughter and so forth in their former homeland.  The Twins weren’t even Serbian.  They had some officials back in the day of Tito and Communism; change everyone’s name to Milosevic.  A village of five thousand plus people and every last name in the phone book was Milosevic.

                The Milos Twins had lost their jobs as laborers after the fall of Communism.  During the war, they joined a militia that hunted Serbian soldiers.  Their job was to kill humans and try to stay alive.  During days of extreme heat and extreme cold, the twins killed, raped and pillaged while being exposed to the elements.  They had a cousin in Detroit who knew a rich Jewish man who made all his money on coin operated machines and needed a crew to take care of a neglected apartment building he owned near 8 Mile Road.  Detroit sounded like paradise compared to the remnants of what was once Yugoslavia and so they took off for Detroit.

                The building happened to be on the south end of 8 Mile on the Detroit side of the road.  When they arrived, the bricks were missing mortar, the roof was leaking badly, the heating system sputtered and often left tenants without heat, the plumbing didn’t plumb and so forth.   The building was surrounded by burned out and abandon homes.  At the end of the street was an all purpose mini market to buy all you need to get by on at an inflated price.  Detroit had a lot of open space and the twins liked that.

 Out of the twenty two tenants, only a handful was paying rent and those were Section 8 tenants.  Mr. Rosenblatt was very relieved to have the Milos Twins.  They were tall and lean with sandy colored hair and they weren’t afraid of anything.  Before long, they had the building back in order and rents were being paid.  Toilets flushed and money went in the bank and pocket of Mr. Rosenblatt.

One day Edo and Edin or Ed and Eddy, received an angry phone message from a woman in one of the units of the building.   What Ed and Eddy knew of the woman was that she was about forty years old, ghostly white, thin to the point of being emaciated, lived alone and her father paid her rent in cash once a month.  A bus from Detroit Mercy would pick her up once a week and other than that, the woman kept to herself.  The twins surmised that she was hopped up on medication and so they didn’t give much credence to the bizarre message.

“Ed and Eddy…  DON’T PLAY FUCKING GAMES WITH ME!  I CAME HOME TO FIND THE GOD DAMN DISNEY CHANNEL ON A HUGE TURD IN MY TOILET…  NO TOILET PAPER AND NOT EVEN THE DECENCY TO FLUSH THE TOILET.  I AM MISSING MAIL AND JEWERLY…  I HAVE CALLED THE DETROIT POLICE.  I DEMAND MY JEWELRY BACK IMMEDIATELY AND WANT A LOCKSMITH TO CHANGE MY FUCKING LOCKS… Thank you.”

Two plain clothes detectives came to the door to ask Ed and Eddy some questions inside their apartment that was very bare.  The two black cops sat as Ed brought in some tea with some tasty little cookies from their country.  European teams were playing soccer on their television.  The two cops wondered what kind of men who are brothers, live together in a bad part of Detroit.  The cops marveled at how much the two men looked alike, sounded alike, gestured alike and laughed alike.  Ike, the former Michigan State lineman spoke first.

“Boys…  We been getting strange phone calls from a Miss Daphne Dumont.  She says you’re eating her food, using her toilet, stealing her belongings and so forth.  Now we understand she lives right above your unit.  We have come by on several occasions to speak with her and we are finding nobody home.  We have traced the phone calls to a land line within that unit but whenever we come out, there is no answer.  Can you tell us what you know?”

Ed and Eddy looked at one another and blinked hard.  They both took a sip of their tea, shook their heads simultaneously and then started speaking.  It was like old Rap tunes of the past.  One would begin a sentence and the other would finish it, complete with hand gestures.

“Something ain’t right, Mr. Officers…” said Ed.

“No ain’t right at all…” said Eddy.

“She runs around all night up above us…”said Ed.

“And listens to music from old movies…” Said Eddy.

“Oh Yeah…  She likes Annie get your Gun, Brigadoon, seven brothers and some brides or something… She likes all of them…” Said Ed.

“Yeah and we caught her taking a shit in the laundry room.  We got it on tape…” Said Eddy.

“Oh yeah…  We can play it for you.  We set up a camera to catch whoever it was who was shitting everyday on the floor.  It was like a horse pile…” Said Ed.

“Just like an animal but it smelled of spices mostly…” Said Eddy.

“Yeah and we notice that she cooks with the same spices… Eddy, put on the tape for the officers.” Said Ed.

The two police officers and the twins watched the closed caption video of their upstairs neighbor.  She wore a trench coat and boots one might wear to go fly fishing in a stream.  The boots came up to her thighs.  The men all commented on how large her breasts were for such a thin woman and the Afro-like pubic hair that surrounded her vagina.  None of the men were particularly turned on by the site of a squatting woman singing, “Happy Talk” from South Pacific while feces streamed like soft serve from her person.  Tremaine, the second officer grasped his mouth and was about to vomit.  Both officers asked the twins to turn off the film.

The phone calls to Ed and Eddy and the Detroit Police never stopped.  All involved began to ignore the calls until the day that Ed called Officer Ike on his cell phone.  Ed and Eddy had come in for lunch and found water streaming down the walls of their unit.  Westside Story was blaring out of the surround sound and water poured out of light sockets and cracks in the ceiling.  The two officers on the case hurried over and authorized the twins to force the door open.  They could hear Ms. Dumont singing like Ethel Merman at the top of her lungs.  Her pitch was not what it should have been but that isn’t what concerned the quartet.  Daphne sung, Officer Krupke as the door was forced open, sending three feet high water streaming down the hallway.  Daphne stood on the couch, singing into a wooden spoon.  She wore pink boots with Hello Kitty logos on both sides.  She was completely naked except the boots and happened to have been missing her nose which was removed due to cancer.  The men were nearly over come by the smell of urine and feces.  It was not unlike visiting the monkey house on a hot humid day.  Without any air conditioning. 

“Gee, Officer Krupke,
We’re down on our knees,
‘Cause no one wants a fellow with a social disease.
Gee, Officer Krupke,
What are we to do?
Gee, Officer Krupke,
Krup you!”

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