"FWLS12" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

"Up next, you know him as a regular here folks, let's have a
big hand for Mr. Fluki Panookie!"

There was sporadic applause as I stepped into the spotlight,
from the few regulars not too drink to listen. One really wild
person in the back was clapping like a maniac, but thankfully
stopped so I could read.

I flipped through the diary 'til I hit blank pages,
backtracked, and found the poem.

"'Amtrak to Hell', by Fluki Panookie.

It looked like fun, and I needed some fun.
Fun wasn't me, by any stretch of the word.
If I didn't have fun soon, I wouldn't have fun at all.
Or so I thought.
So I bought my ticket and stepped on board.
And it was fun, as promised. Fun. Very fun.
And dangerous.
The cars tilted wildly, and threatened derailing
But I couldn't protest.
I had ridden too long. I had too much fun.
Now I couldn't stop having fun to save my life.
Help me, someone give me a hand
And pull the track switch, or the brake cord
Or anything.
Stop this train, stop this train
I can't do it myself, even if I want to.
I'm having fun and can't stop. Please help me.
I am on the Amtrak to Hell, and having fun,
All the way to the end of the line."

No dart. Primo. I didn't know if it was one of my best
ones, but it certainly didn't suck bad enough to warrant the
sniper. More applause followed, the one weirdo in the back
applauding loudest of all and whistling.

The host stepped up, I stepped off. He did the compulsory
attempt for more applause, cracked another bad joke, and
introduced the next two acts, both of which got the dart.

*

"Mr. Panookie?"

I almost didn't turn around. Nobody had called me that
since the fourth grade. But still, it was part of my name.