The Ballad of The Unicorn

This post was written by special guest author Monty.

*the following anecdote is to be read in a heavy New York accent with plentiful hand motions*

Ronny was a real nut.

Guy was on year 21 of a lifelong sentence when I got to the big joint.

Went in when he was 18, real sad story, real sad.

Good kid, wrong place, wrong time, you know how it is.

His cell was right next to mine, when I showed up in ’55.

Now, you know me. I’m the guy who put fireworks face down in guys’s bungholes then let candles melt on their yam cheeks until it lit the fuse and sent the rocket out the finks’s ugly mugs. That’s me. You know me. The fireworks and candles up the ass guy.

But this guy, this loon was half the brain, double the trip, I mean this guy was whacked.

I’m tellin’ ya, when I showed up, this fool wouldn’t quit with the unicorn.

All this jabroni wanted was horned pony. Wouldn’t shut up about it.

Every night I’m hearing his bed creaking up and down, backwards and forthwards.

So I get my nifty mirror out for peekin’ at the female guards whose walking away. Yeah, there was no female guards, but once you’re in long enough, which was three days for me, ya sees a uniform with a nice set of sitters from behind and your imagination does the rest.

Anyhow, I get out my mirror and take a look into Ronny’s cell.

I’m thinking, it’s soundin like the trip snuck some tail through the bars, but the guy is just rockin’ back and forth in his bed aggressively, and then he starts singin’,

“My mama promised me

Son when you turn forty

You’ll get what you’ve always wanted

Other boys always taunted

So eat your peas and corn

And you’ll get that unicorn”

Over and over again, he would chant this. EVERY NIGHT.

No denying, this guy had a catchy tune on his hands, one night I couldn’t resist, I started singin’ along.

Soon the guys around me start singin’

And before ya know it, every cell in the slammer is joinin’ in the chorus.

Every night, the guards would tell us to, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, IN THERE!!”

And when we all went silent, the suckas that didn’t fear the gallows were yanked outta their cells still singin their souls out.

The amount of guys with great pipes locked up in Alcatraz is a crime in itself. I’m not ashamed to say I broke into tears several times listenin’ to some angelic sounds comin’ out of these poor, delinquent mouths.

Anyways, the night before the kid’s 40th birthday roles around.

The whole prison is soaked in anticipation, I mean guys buggin’ out.

Some new religions sprung up across the yard, I mean people were predicting Ronny’s birthday was gonna be the Armageddon.

I might have even prayed to Ronny’s phony bologna unicorn to send me a criminal monkey to keep me company in my cell.

C’mon, how cool would that be, a monkey cell mate, I mean it’s some TV shit, right there. That’s fuckin’ cinema.

**breaks into laughter that turns into hard coughing**

But that night something no one expected to happen, actually happened.

We sing our usual song, louder than ever before.

The prison guards even joined in that night. Fuckin’ magical.

The clock struck midnight, the singin’ stopped and there was a second of silence that felt like at least two second…

I listened in the silence, like searchin’ for a pin drop in a library.

Then… blood curdling scream, I mean I’m still bleeding cheese wax.

‘No, not you!! No, motha, WHYYYY?’, he’s screamin’.

I rushed over to my bars and slid my mirror out and peered into Ronny’s cell.

Ronny was standing on his bed holding his hair in his hands with tears rushin’ down his face, eyes glued to the corner of the room. I mean it’s like he’s seein’ the ghost of his darkest mistake.

I angle my mirror to the other corner of the room and there standing short and still… is a garden gnome with a sinister smile… as if to say… **shudders**… ‘I killed your fuggin’ unicorn.’

#unicorn #guest #story #anecdote #music #singing #gnome #newyork #alcatraz #tearjerker