RICK EDELSTEIN - KNOCK KNOCK

​Rick Edelstein was born and ill-bred on the streets of the Bronx. His initial writing was stage plays off-Broadway in NYC. When he moved to the golden marshmallow (Hollywood) he cut his teeth writing and directing multi-TV episodes of “Starsky & Hutch,” “Charlie’s Angels,” “Chicago,” “Alfred Hitchcock,” et al. He also wrote screenplays, including one with Richard Pryor, “The M’Butu Affair” and a book for a London musical, “Fernando’s Folly.” His latest evolution has been prose with many published short stories and novellas, including, “Bodega,” “Manchester Arms,” “America Speaks,” “Women Go on,” “This is Only Dangerous,” “Aggressive Ignorance,” “Buy the Noise,” and “The Morning After the Night.” He writes every day as he is imbued with the Judeo-Christian ethic, “A man has to earn his day.” Writing atones.

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KNOCK KNOCK
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​When a girl touches your dick you don’t need to ask for a certificate of intention, word.
          She said you raped her.
          The bitch lied, I ain’t no tree jumper.
          They found semen in her vagina, d-n-a tests affirm it’s yours.
          They didn’t need no d-n-a, just had to ask me. Hey, she came to my crib, on her own volition, word. Nobody forced her. We were watching TV and she reached over for my dick, rubbed it until it was pointing due north, she even kissed it and then like a promise kept she sat on it until I came like an out of season Mississippi flood so sure they found my semen in her pussy.
          Why do you think she lied...if she did?
          If she did! Come on, let’s get this bitch moving. Are you gonna’ handle my appeal or what?
          We haven’t decided yet. The ACLU has to establish some legal malefaction took place.
          Malefact this! They gave me a lawyer and the first thing he said, not asking me if I was innocent or not, first thing – plead guilty and get a lighter sentence. Yeah, I got your lighter.
Here I am nine years later locked up like a blathering, word, baboon on a bogus hummer fighting off pervs who want a piece of me. They added one year because I clocked a motherfucker who was reaching for me in the shower. Shit I never even been strapped and they got me facing a dime now.
          Strapped?
          Carrying a piece, a gun.
          Your file says that your sentence, after your plea, was...
          My file my file! Does it also say that the bitch was no virgin? Ask Vinnie-the-pipe, or Georgie-skin-head, they each got a piece of her pussy and who knows how many other cell warriors worked the sides of her pudenda.
          Why do you think she claimed you raped her and not Vinnie Pipe or Georgie whatever?
          Skin-head. Because she wanted me to be her man. Vinnie was a limping acne case scrambling for meds and Georgie skin-head made you want to taste some brake fluid before you’d consider committing to be an item with Mister forget-about-it.
          Brake fluid?
          Pills the shrink gives the cons who are too close to the edge. Shit, she talked up and down the street as if we were fucking engaged. When I said no way, we’re just into some good sexualizationing and from me to you not all that good but it’s a no contest far better than the fee fee in the joint.
Fee fee?
Fake pussy used for jacking off made by rolling a towel into a tube and then putting a plastic bag inside and adding lotion. But that’s all of which went down with me and her. Listen, listen hard. I did nothing that wasn’t consensual. Consensual? Shit, I was the one who had to consense. And she has the temerity, word, she had the balls, women don’t have balls but you know what I’m saying when she laid her claim down! Talk about hell hath no wrath like a woman scorned.
          I didn’t expect that quote from you, to be frank.
          It’s from The Mourning Bride, by William Congreve, English. English peoples have a way with words.
          Your file says you never even graduated high school.
          I read my ass off in the prison library. That’s the only place I can sit and not watch my butt. I got all kindsa’ things in my head now like, when I’m out in population I’m gonna’ find her and...
          If you tell me you’re going to commit an unlawful act it’s my responsibility to report it.
          You going to rep me and handle my appeal or not?
          Let’s talk some more and please, nothing about any intention for revenge.
          God is a mean-spirited, pugnacious bully bent on revenge, Walt Whitman. God is bent on revenge. Not me.
          You didn’t finish Whitman. Bent on revenge against His children for failing to live up to his impossible standards.
          You been reading books, too.
          How does it work to be able to spend a lot of time in the prison library?
          A woman runs it. Got me a Cadillac job. She specifically asked that I be her assistant so now I got my work-duty covered in dusty books instead of breathing shitty steam in the laundry room. She even brings in a salad for me which is a lot better than the choke sandwiches they serve for lunch.
          Choke sandwich?
          Peanut butter with no jelly. We got a nice thing going me and her.
          You’re not...don’t tell me if you do but please, do not get involved with a civilian, the woman running the library because if...
          Hey, cease and desist. Mrs. Bergenwald is fifty-three and fat for days. You’d have to fuck a crease in her thigh before you even got close to her pussy. Involved with Mrs. B? Hey no disrespect but she is a dump truck with a degree in books.
          Okay, back to the subject. Maybe there’s something I’m missing because right now it’s a she-said he-said. I need more.
          Like what?
          If I knew I wouldn’t be asking for more...more detail.
          Such as?
          I’m searching for...let’s do a linear chronological history.
          You’re going to send me back to the library with linear chronological shit.
          Starting with when it all started.
          When what “it” started?
          I mean when you first saw her, met her and all the events leading to her claim.
          Hey man I can’t be responsible for when she decided to be low down bottom feeder. You’d need a Doctor Freud which I read about in the library who has an obvious fixation on mommy, sex and shit. He pushes the envelope but when you open the puppy it’s empty. Freud’s an ill motherfucker if you ask me.
          You’re an interesting man.
          If you said that to me on the block I’d have to clarify I ain’t no June bug.
          June bug?
          You know, sort of a con who lays down like an obedient punk only to be dominated by the infamous others.  
          Not my intention.
          Why infamous? Shouldn’t it be unfamous?
          You have no formal education yet you have educated yourself in the prison library.
          Are you talking to yourself because what you’re putting down ain’t any kinda’ news.
          Just notating elements of your makeup that may impress the infamous, or if you wish, unfamous others. Including the fact that you obviously have a good memory and...
That’s sometimes the bad news, too. Some shit I ‘member I could do without. Your father ever clock your mother and drop-kick you for objecting? Forget I asked. Talk to me as if I didn’t say that or if I did you had no way of hearing because I mumbled beyond your comprehension, word. Why are you smiling?
You have a way of talking, almost like Bob Dylan, a unique kind of street rhythm.
          Dylan! The dude sings like he got a half eaten saltine stranded in his esophagus, word, but I like the other Dylan. Dylan Thomas. “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” I got enough rage boiling inside of me to put out the lights. Forget I said that. What else?
          Well, I’ll share my findings with my supervisor and...
          Findings? People with good education too many times time ten use words to cover up other words. What the fuck are findings you gotta’ share about me?
          How about more information required for a recommendation that we consider filing an appeal on your behalf.
          Consider. Who is the considering honcho who may not be all that considerate?
          In this case we have a triad. Three full time staff attorneys and I make my pitch to go to bat for you in court and if necessary, hearings attesting to the worthiness of your situation. Until than it’s important that you do not get into any trouble, any fights or...
          Sometimes a face-off is unavoidable unless you’re pussy and that ain’t my scene I mean some wanna-be border brother might try and yoke me up just for a rollie and I ain’t having all that.
          Yoke you up for...
          Come from behind and stab me for a cigarette. I mean in the slam the log is so crooked it won’t sit still. Cons seldom come out of the same hole. Specially if they’re chasing the dragon.
          Chasing the...
          Dope fiend...needing their hit no matter the odds they’re busier than a one legged man in a butt kicking contest doing whatever it takes and most times if you don’t watch your back it’s your ass for the taking. Listen to me distracting from the issue which is loud and clear. Tell me, how long before you’ll know, before I know if you’re going to get my ass out of this insane making crazy bat-shit cave?
          Whoa...you’re moving too fast.
Too fast. Shit, when you’re doing time a minute’s as long as year. Too fast your ass.
Okay. If the board agrees then I and most likely another attorney will visit with you, go through specifics of your encounter with her...
          I already specificked with you.
          Yes, and with another attorney, we’ll record it, take it back to the office and schematically plan the judicial approach to get your case on the docket for serious adjudication.
          You talk your shit and adjudicate my butt.
          Who knows, we may actually be successful in getting you...well, it won’t be easy as legal forces that put you here are not all that inclined to...for lack of a better phrase, to see the light.
          “The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” Plato said that. If I don’t get out of this joint sooner than forfuckingever I won’t be responsible for what you may be afraid might go down.
          Plato also said courage is knowing what not to fear.
          I didn’t get to that part yet.
          I have my work to do in prepping your appeal. I will be in touch.
          Wait wait wait...you don’t have to go.
          Is there additional information regarding you, her, other people involved in...
          No it’s just that when you split I go back to the yards with predictable and careful talk. With you, I mean it’s real. As long as you’re here with me and the guard outside the door, it can take as long as it takes that is until lock-down. I mean...well, can we conversate some more.
          Hmmm...yes, sure we can. I’ll keep my pad and make notes if it’s relevant or in case the guard looks through the peep hole and see that we’re working on your case.
          You got my vote.
          What would you like to...to “conversate” about?
          Anything, everything, current events, God, the devil, stupid shit people do, like all the isms.
          All the isms?
          Sexism, racism, religious-isms.
          Your choice.
          You know why racism works?
          I don’t know that it does work.
          Simple. It makes people feel better about themselves when they can put someone down, anyone that can be i-d’d as not them. The most ignorant beer-bellied cracker can diss blacks, Jews, Latinos and the shortest con does a diss about midgets. Why? Because it makes his empty fucking existence meaningful. There is a power to hating.
          A greater power to accepting our differences.
          You sound like a bumper sticker.
          Hey, you’re the guy who asked me to not leave.
          No insult intended.
          Yes it was but that’s okay. More?
          More? More...yeah...let’s see more of...I got one: Truth is the greatest enemy of the state. Who said that?
          Our current president?
          It fits but no. Goebbels. You know who that is, was?
          Part of Hitler’s cabal.
          Nailed it. You ever been to Mexico?
          Talk about a non-sequitur.
          Better sequitur than back to lock up. On the back of city busses for everybody to read it says in Spanish but you don’t talk Spanish do you?
          No.
          It says We’re Mexicans and we say fuck your mother. For any and everybody to read. My kinda’ people.
           You never gave me a linear run-down about when you first met her.
          Why are you hot on that?
          Hello! You want me to file an appeal saying that the woman who is accusing you of rape is lying. I need a time-line, a detailed description, a time-line from the moment you met to when you had consensual sex. Consensual is the crucial word. So please, detail your experiences that...
          Experiences...shit, that’s the name everybody gives to their mistakes...experiences. Me, I made a gross mistake piping the bitch because she...
          You never answered my request.
          Which was?
          When you first met her and step by step until...
          Oh so that’s what you mean by chronological linear shit.
          Yes. So?
          Okay, sure. Let’s see...it was in the market, Ralph’s supermarket, I was in the aisle, the frozen food shit because I hate to cook...hate, I don’t know how to cook...when up in front was this foxy frame, I mean wearing a skirt that would get her twenty lashes in Arabia with tits out to Thursday I still remember she was wearing a shirt or a woman calls it a blouse I guess with the top two buttons not buttoned and no bra...I mean those were some young titties believe you me standing up on their own with no means of support. That’s how it went down.
          I need more. How did you connect?
          She dropped something, bent down to pick it up, her boobs almost falling out so the gentleman that I was, am, went over to help. That’s it.
          What it?
          How we chronologicallized, you know...what’s the word you use, linear...yeah we lineared from that drop on.
          And?
          You’re starting to bug me with your mores and ands.
          If I’m to represent you and file an appeal I need...
          Specifics yeah, okay...we got to talking and you know shit happened.
          From the supermarket?
          Not right out front. We exchanged phone numbers and shit, even went to a movie together, I bought the popcorn, and it was cool like we were an item-to-be depending on well until that time when she came over to visit, she said she’d cook me some dinner, we’d watch a movie she brought over, it was horny too and like I said she started rubbing my joint and before you know it...I mean at first she didn’t want to do the ultimate but all women say no to prove that she’s not that kind of girl which she most definitely is and finally of course she gave in I mean like I said when a bitch strokes your dick she better be ready for the big show if you know what I’m saying.
          Did she resist?
          Of course, that’s what makes it hot. A woman says not yet, you know she resists and man insists and Dr. Freud the rhyme is on time because when it comes to doing the nasty not yet is a foreign language untranslated because the only word an erect dick hears is now, n – o – w in hot demands to feel the juicy squish of a woman’s better part.
          You had intercourse with her even though she was saying not yet?
          That’s the game. Hot. You know, a little not yet, a little please, a little tease, and just in time I had her bent over because...
You said she sat on your dick, not had her bent over.
Hey, man, don’t disparage, word, a dude who likes a good butt to look at while I’m piping the slit...talking about butts did you know that there were 19,000 butt augmentations, word, by doctors in USA last year?
          It doesn’t sound like the sex was consensual. Was it? Yes or no.
          By the time it was over it was consensual as hell. What are you getting at?
          You forced her, didn’t you.
          She got me hot and bothered and aggressed from the get-go, no forcing from out front, and once the heat is turned up to full boil, come on, there’s no undoing a hard dick by any other means before the mount Vesuvius occurs, no u-turning back, even Doctor Freud is in harmony with the fact that sexual heat is not to be denied so give me a break, the bitch was asking for it. Where are you going?
          Guard!
          He wait a minute there’s...
          We can’t take your case. There is no basis for an appeal. You forced sex on a woman who said not yet, who said no, who resisted.
          Women do that. That’s their number. The bitch was asking for it!
          I have to go now.
          You must be some kinda of perv not to understand.
Goodbye.
Hey come back! Knock knock. Who’s there? Your mother? Your mother who? Your motherfuck you, you faggot!
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