Once upon a time there was a very rich, talented,
young actor, whose name was Charles Henry Ulysses Marcel
Palovitch.
His close friends called him "CH.U.M.P.."
The rest of the world, of course, called him Charlie.
Charlie's only real fault was that he loved clothes. Child,
I don't mean he just liked clothes. I mean that boy LOVED clothes! Let
me tell you, that Charlie lived to shop!.
Every Tuesday at precisely 9:00 A.M., Charlie went shopping.
Week after week. Month after Month. Year in and Year out. If it was Tuesday,
Charlie went shopping. He bought shirts, ties, pants, socks, and shoes. If it
was clothes, he bought it. Do you know, Charlie's obsession with clothes became
so bad he even asked his family if they'd move out of the house so he could
convert their bedrooms into closets!
But although Charlie was rich, handsome, and famous, and had
a house full of clothes, he was still not happy.
One day, Charlie was talking to his childhood friend, Samuel
Nelson Ichobod Taylor Clayton Harvey or "S.N.I.T.C.H."
for short. "What would really make me happy," he confided in his
friend, "is the ultimate suit of clothes. Something that nobody else
in the whole wide world has."
Snitch shrugged his shoulders. "Well man, you're a rich dude,"
he said, "Advertise! Let it be known far and wide that you will pay five, no--
ten, no--- ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for the ultimate suit of clothes. Something
that nobody else has!"
"I'll DO it!" said Charles. "MAKE IT SO!"
And so the word went out throughout all the land, Harlem,
Watts, Bed Sty, Chicago, and a few other lesser known communities, (you know,
the fifty states, that sort of thing), that the famous actor Charles
Henry Ulysses Marcel Palovitch was willing to pay
big bucks for the ultimate suit of clothes. A suit so unique that no one else
in the world would own another suit like it, nor would it be able to be copied.
And so, famous Designers and Tailors came from far and wide.
The top brass from Bill Blass were first on the scene. They pulled up in front
of Charle's Hollywood mansion with a tractor-trailer load of samples.
Charles went through that truck like a kid in a candy store,
but in the end, not one single outfit suited him. "No," he sighed, "You
just don't have what I'm looking for." So the brass from Blass took their
trailer and hit the road, shaking their heads in disappointment.
Executives from Pierre Cardin sent a personal invitation for
Charles to join them at their Paris store. Snitch went along for the ride. They
were treated like royalty, and Charlie was shown outfits fit for a king. But
Charlie shook his head. Could this be all Paris had to offer? That one special
suit just wasn't there. "I am sorry ladies and gentlemen, I guess I will just
have to look elsewhere," he said.
On the way home, a thoroughly frustrated Charlie was busy
complaining to his friend Snitch. "All I'm looking for is the world's most unique
suit!" he said. "Man, how difficult can this be?"
Back home, representatives from Guess and Brooks Brothers
were prepared to try their hand. Neither made the grade, and they left in a
huff.
Even BVD jockeyed for position. They made a brief appearance,
but like the others, they still recieved a chilly reception in the end.
Charlie continued to reject samples from the world's most
talented designers and tailors, one right after another. The goods were superb,
you understand, it's just that they were not exclusively unique.
Finally, there was only one company left. Their business card
read; Homeboy & Soulbrothers, Ltd. - Tailors Extraordinaire
"Show them in," sighed Charles. By now, he was not expecting
much .
The room was suddenly abustle with activity, with the entrance
of two men and the large trunk which accompanied them . "Greetings, oh great
and noble, rich and famous actor, Charles Henry Ulysses Marcel Palotvich," began
the first man, speaking in a deep, rich, oily baritone. "We have come in answer
to your pleas," he announced.
Middle aged, slightly bald, and with a handle-bar mustache,
the speaker also possessed a huge pot belly. SO huge, in fact, that Charlie
privately ventured a guess that it had been years since the man had even seen
his own feet.
His partner appeared younger. He stood about six feet tall,
and he was skinny as a rail. Charlie guessed he wouldn't weigh one hundred pounds,
even if he was soaking wet.
In a nasal twang, the second man informed Charlie, "We have
sir, at Homeboy & Soulbrothers, LTD, the perfect material to make you the most
well dressed man in the entire world."
"First, however, please allow us to introduce ourselves. I
am Mr. Jamaal Homeboy, and this is my associate, Mr. Mohammed Ali Soulbrothers.
We sir, are the answer to your prayers."
"Say WHAT?," said Charlie skeptically.
"OK, Mr. Homeboy and Soulbrothers," Charlie sighed. "Let's
see what you've got there"
The pair moved smoothly across the room to a big trunk that
had just been rolled in. Flipping the latches and opening the lid, together
they carefully lifted out an enormous computer, followed by a large bolt of
transparent film. The latter looked something like big roll of clear plastic
food wrap.
"You see, it's really quite simple," said Mr. Homeboy, as
he began unfolding the bolt of see-through material so that he could show it
to Charlie, "this specially engineered material has been dusted with a fine
layer of a new, hi-tech chemical entitled 'Seethrum."
"Our special computer," explained Mr. Soulbrothers, "has been
equipped with a remarkable chip that picks up biofeedback waves from the Seethrum..."
"...enabling the computer to change the color, shape,
and texture of the Seethrum from micro second to micro second. That, in turn,
allows the appearance of the finished product to itself change, from micro second
to micro second." finished Mr. Homeboy.
"Thus, it is always unique and can never be copied,"
Mr. Soulbrothers concluded proudly.
"THIS sounds VERY exciting," said Charles, suddenly interested.
"Would you care to demonstrate it?"
"Our pleasure sir," said Mr. Homeboy, who carefully draped
the film across an arm chair, then tapped a key on the computer. Before Charlie's
very eyes, the Seethrum changed color and shape. First the armchair turned red
and changed appearance to look like a recliner. Then, with another tap on the
keyboard, it had blue and white stripes and took on the shape of a sofa.
"Enough!" cried Charles. "This is remarkable, it's
WONDERFUL even! I must have a suit of this fabulous material.
But tell me, how do you move about with this heavy computer?"
"Oh this is just for demonstrations," explained Mr. Homeboy,
dismissing Charlie's concerns with a wave of his hands.
"Yes indeed, sir, we have a small pocket model for getting
around," added Mr. Soulbrothers. "It is so small no one will ever notice," they
chorused.
Mr. Homeboy and Mr. Soulbrothers promptly set about measuring
Charles for a new suit to be made from the miracle fiber Seethrum. They measured
his arms, and his legs, and his waist, and his sleeves, and his neck, and his
back and everything in between. Charles was exhausted by the time they
had finished.
Mr. Homeboy and Mr. Soulbrothers then packed up their trunk
and promised Charlie his suit would be ready within one week's time. The two
left with broad smiles on their faces, and a big down payment in their pockets.
Right on schedule, exactly one week later, Mr. Homeboy and
Mr. Soulbrothers returned to the home of Charles Henry Ulysses Marcel Palovitch.
They opened their trunk and produced a beautifully cut transparent suit exactly
the size of Charles.
Inside the breast pocket was a palm-sized computer, with a
miniature keyboard, just as they had promised. They helped Charles put on the
suit, and he was delighted to find that it fit perfectly.
"Now," explained Mr. Homeboy "Here's what you do. You
simply turn the computer on like this, and type in the style and look you want
the suit to have."
So Charles typed in Leisure Suit, Light Grey. Immediately
the suit became a Light Grey Leisure Suit.
Delighted, Charlie admired his reflection in the nearby mirror.
Next, he typed in Dark Brown Business Suit. Once again the suit changed appearance,
promptly becoming a Dark Brown Business Suit.
"This is exceptional!" cried Charles. He summoned his
close friend Snitch, and invited the entire household staff in, so they too
could see his wonderful new clothes.
"Mr. Homeboy and Mr. Soulbrothers," Charlie congratulated
them, "You and your company, Homeboy & Soulbrothers, Ltd., have truly outdone
yourselves! I will have my accountant issue you a check for one hundred thousand
dollars immediately. The deposit I gave you," Charles said, magnanimously,
"Keep it as a bonus."
"Why thank you sir," the pair chorused, and with large, toothy
grins, they beat a very hasty exit.
"Get my red Cadillac convertible out right away," Charles
instructed his chauffeur, "I will change my new suit to a cream color, and I
will be a spectacular sight as you drive me through the town with the top down."
And that is exactly what happened. As he rode through the
town people stopped and stared. When his car stopped for a red light, people
crowded around it and asked for autographs. Charles was thoroughly delighted.
He ordered his chauffeur to pull over to the curb so that he
could get out and sign even more autographs.
As he was standing on the street corner happily signing autographs
Charlie suddenly noticed that the faces of the people were beginning to change.
At first they were in awe of his wonderful new clothes. But
then, he noticed a smirk or two, and he began to hear giggles. Charles was too
busy signing autographs to pay much attention to the source of their amusement
though.
Finally a tall, slender young lady who was probably the most
gorgeous girl Charles had ever seen, approached him. Her eyes were a soft hazel
brown, and she had long, flowing chestnut hair.
Charles was smitten immediately, and he just knew she wanted
his autograph.
"Ahhh," he said, flirting with the stunning stranger, "A devoted
fan, and a very beautiful one at that." He smiled and said, "I must give
you a special autograph, lovely lady."
"I am not here for an autograph," she told him. "Aren't you
the world-famous actor, Charles Henry Ulysses Marcel Palovitch?" she inquired.
"Ahh, my dear young woman, you have indeed recognized me,"
he said modestly. Yes, I am THE Charles Henry Ulysses Marcel Palovitch, and
I am at your service."
"Well, Charlie," she said, putting her hands on her hips,
"Suppose you tell me what in the WORLD Charles Henry Ulysses Marcel Palovitch
thinks he's doing, standing on the street corner in broad daylight, signing
autographs in his underwear?"
Charles was aghast! "My dear young woman," he
sputtered, "Can't you see this is the latest fashion, made entirely from the
miracle fabric Seethrum?"
"See-through-'em is RIGHT! she sniffed. Check yourself, Charlie,"
she retorted as she turned and sashayed away. "Oh, by the way," she called over
her shoulder, "Nice Boxers!"
By now, the crowd was pointing and laughing in earnest. Even
Snitch was in hysterics. "I could not HELP it," he howled, "I held it together
when I saw the pink show through, but I lost it completely with the smiley faces.
Where did you GET those things, man?"
Charles shot him a withering look and fled to the safety of
his car, ordering his chauffeur to hurry up and raise the the top.
Charlie groped about under the seat, frantically trying to
find something to wear. He fished out a bright yellow raincoat that belonged
to his nephew Leroy, and quickly slipped it on. "Take me to Homeboy & Soulbrothers,
Ltd. immediately!" an angry Charlie bellowed to his chauffeur.
Upon arriving, he stormed into the offices of Mr. Homeboy
and Mr. Soulbrothers, who were by now slightly tipsy from all the champagne
they had consumed after cashing Charles' check.
"To S.C.A.M." they grinned, as they lifted their glasses in
a toast.
"And just what is S.C.A. M.?" growled a voice from the doorway.
"Successfully Conned Another Moron!" they shouted happily.
With a joyous slosh, they clinked their glasses together, and turned towards
the voice. Uh-oh! There stood Charlie, wearing a bright yellow kids' raincoat
over a pair of pink boxer shorts. He looked madder than a wet hen.
"Is it raining?" inquired Mr. Soulbrothers, curiously.
"THIEVES! SCOUNDRELS, LIARS!" Charlie shouted, " Just
look at what has happened! You have made me the laughing stock of the city!
I will have you arrested and thrown in jail for fraud."
"Now hold on!" said Mr. Soulbrothers, "We delivered exactly
what we promised. You have a suit that changed color and shape."
"And it couldn't be copied," added Mr. Homeboy.
"Yes, but look at it now! snorted Charlie, "There IS no suit,
how do you explain THAT?" Mr. Homeboy shrugged his shoulders. "The micro processor
only has a sixty minute battery life," he explained.
"And you never bothered to ask us anything about THAT," said
Mr. Soulbrothers.
Charles looked from one to the other, and then he looked at
himself in the mirror. He realized he had been a first class CHUMP! Charlie
shook his head, as he chided himself for his obsession with clothes. He felt
like an idiot.
That was the turning point in his life. Charlie returned home
a new person. He packed up all of his clothes, except for a jeans outfit and
a Sunday go-to-meeting suit, and he donated everything else to the homeless.
Charlie found all new fame on the TV talk show circuit, postulating
the theory that, contrary to popular belief, Clothes Do NOT Make The Man!
And he lived happily ever after.
Charlie glanced down, and his eyes nearly
bulged right out of his head! AAAAIIIEEEEEEEEEEE! He could see right THROUGH
his brand new suit! Little yellow smiley faces on Charlie's pink boxer shorts
grinned happily at the snickering crowd. Charlie was MORTIFIED! Frantically
he jiggled the controls on the miniature computer, but to no avail. His
underwear continued to show through.
Quick Vocabulary
Obsessed - Overcome to the extreme, with a compulsive idea or emotion. Charlie couldn't think of anything else but new clothes. He would rather buy new clothes than eat. He was obsessed with new clothes.
Jockeyed - To have skillfully maneuvered for position. In a horse race, the riders, known as Jockeys, skillfully guide their horses in their attempt to win the race. They "jockey for position." - Even BVD jockeyed for position. They made a brief appearance, but like the others, they still recieved a chilly reception in the end. (Caught that bit of humor, did you?)
Abustle - Excited activity. The room was suddenly abustle when the visitors arrived with their trunk.
Baritone - A male voice having a register higher than
bass and lower than tenor.
Some really WONDERFUL baritone singers you might already know were Marvin Gaye
("Heard It Through The Grapevine") and Prince ("While My Guitar
Gently Weeps")"
Handlebar Mustache - Oversized mustache, which droops, then turns up, shaped like handlebars. Look HERE for example.
Awe - To impress, with reverential fear. At first they were in awe of his new clothes.. - Charlie's audience, impressed by movie stars to begin with, and totally blown away with the beauty of the movie star's clothes, found they were also a little afraid, since Charlie was able to simply push a button and change clothes, and no-one had ever seen anyhing like that before. They were in awe of what they saw.
Smitten - To be suddenly struck, in this case with love, "Finally a tall, slender young lady who was probably the most gorgeous girl Charles had ever seen, approached him. Her eyes were a soft hazel brown, and she had long, flowing chestnut hair. Charles was smitten immediately..."
Mortified - To be totally embarrassed, humiliated beyond words. - Charlie suddenly found himself standing on a street corner in front of all his fans, wearing nothing but his underwear. He was so embarrassed he could just crawl in a hole. He was mortified!
in Earnest - Serious, heartfelt. By now, the crowd was pointing and laughing in earnest. The crowd wasn't just giggling at Charlie, they were seriously laughing at him standing there in his smiley face underwear.
Fraud - Deception, in order to gain by another's loss. Fraud is against the law. Charlie believes that the tailors tricked him on purpose, to embarrass him and get his money. "THIEVES! SCOUNDRELS, LIARS!" Charlie shouted, "Just look at what has happened! You have made me the laughing stock of the city! I will have you arrested and thrown in jail for fraud."
Postulating - To postulate, means to begin a discussion with something that is an accepted fact. Postulating is the assumption or statement of a thing as fact or truth. Charlie found all new fame on the TV talk show circuit, postulating the theory that Clothes Do NOT Make The Man!. - In other words, Charlie is telling people what we all know is true, that it's not what you wear on your back that's important, it's what you have in your heart that really counts.
About the Illustrator
Margaret Krakowiak, a resident of New Mexico, cheerfully introduced herself to Bedtime-Story as the "talented female illustrator with the warped sense of humor." Indeed, her work is clever as well as witty. She's also a sculptress whose works you may have seen displayed in a number of galleries, including the National Museum for Women in the Arts, in Washington DC. Expect to see more examples of her animation both at Bedtime-Story and, we would certainly think...as innovative ads for corporate sponsors. Contact Margaret
About the Author:
Yvonne Augustin is a writer by profession but she has taught
school for twenty five years because, as she puts it, her children like to eat.
Yvonne lives on Long Island in the State of Constant Confusion. She tells us
she is "old enough to remember Ike, and young enough to enjoy her daughter playing
(AAU) basketball." Time spent with her family and the word of God she says,
is what she values most. Yvonne says she writes because it gives her great inner
pleasure, and that perhaps one day, her words will enhance the world-- when
the world is wise enough to discover her. Yvonne teaches Middle School Vocal
music in Queens, New York. She also plays piano and organ for a Sunday school
and church on Long Island, and in Queens, New York. You'll find Yvonne listed
in "Who's Who Among America's Teachers. 4th edition, volume 1, 1996."
You may contact Yvonne Augustin at Scribe312@aol.com
Update 2012: Retired and loving life with my wonderful husband, two adult children
and two grandchildren. Working on a new/old project, a legacy for my grandchildren.
Taking one day at a time.
Yvonne Augustin has other tales
featured at Bedtime-Story;
Cinderella, the Real Story
The Birth
The Dude's New Duds
The Ragdoll
Stories
and Illustrations found on this site are exclusive to Bedtime-Story
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