I Know You Are But What Am I?
PeeWee Herman had a bike. It was a beautiful bike, a glorious bike, the kind of bike angels would come down from heaven and sing the praises of.
Francis wanted this bike. So used to getting his way, he'd do anything to get his pudgy hands on the stunning bike that PeeWee was now leading out of his driveway, shining in the morning sun.
Francis stood by the white picket fence, biding his time. "Hi PeeWee!"
PeeWee rolled his eyes and looked at Francis. "Hello Francis."
Francis smiled smugly. "Today is my birthday and my father said I could have anything I want."
"Good for you and your father."
"So guess what I want?"
PeeWee pretended to think about it. "A new brain?"
"No," Francis sneered. "Your bike."
PeeWee fell on the ground, unable to stop laughing. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
"What's so funny, PeeWee?"
PeeWee stood up, his eyes narrowed. "It's not for sale, Francis!" he said angrily.
"My father says everything's negotiable, PeeWee." To accentuate his point, Francis pulled out his roll of twenties, a standard birthday gift from his father. He ran his fingers through the money while looking at the bike.
"I wouldn't sell my bike for anything in the world. Not for a hundred million trillion dollars!"
Francis couldn't believe it. "Well then you're crazy!"
"I know you are but what am I?" PeeWee replied smoothly.
"You're a nerd!"
"I know you are but what am I?"
"You're an idiot!"
"I know you are but what am I?"
Francis couldn't handle it anymore. He had to respond. PeeWee matched him word for word.
"I know you are but what am I?"
"I know you are but what am I?"
"I know you are but what am I?"
"I know you are but what am I?" PeeWee gave out one final shout. "Infinity!"
Francis glared at him in petulant anger. PeeWee continued to copy every word he was saying.
"No, I'm not, you are."
"No way."
"Knock it off."
Finally, Francis had enough. "Oh shut up, PeeWee."
"Why don't you make me?" PeeWee replied beligerently.
"Why don't you make me?" Francis snapped back.
"Because I don't make monkeys, I just love them!" PeeWee paused for a second, frowning. "Wait....what did I say?"
"Oh c'mon, PeeWee, listen to reason!" Francis whined.
PeeWee looked up at Francis. "Okay. Go down on me and I'll give you my bike."
"PEEWEE!"
"Final offer." PeeWee said smugly.
Francis looked at the bike, made a whimpering noise, looked at PeeWee, made an even louder whimpering noise, then sighed. "Can I have the bike first?"
"Not without going down on me." PeeWee unzipped his thin polyester pants and leaned against the tree.
Francis sighed again, then got down on his knees in front of PeeWee.
The neighborhood was dead quiet, save the faint sucking sounds coming from Francis. Mr. Crabtree looked out his window, raised an eyebrow, and shook his head. He had to find a new house soon.
After a few minutes, PeeWee groaned slightly. Francis moved away, and looked up at PeeWee. "Do I get the bike now?" he asked.
PeeWee pretended to think about it. "No."
"But, I...." Francis looked close to tears. "Remember when you first got that bike and you were riding past my house and I came running out to tell you how much I loved it even way back then!"
PeeWee chuckled, zipped up his pants, and got on his bike. He reached down to pat Francis' cheek. "I love that story," he said in a saccharine voice. He rode off on his bike, whistling.
Francis stood up, angry. He pointed his finger at PeeWee. "You'll be sorry, PeeWee Herman!"