Adventures in Ventriloquism

Back in the day, when I was strapped for cash, I would do anything short of robbing a bank for some money. I took bets-all sorts of oddball bets that toed the line of indecency and idiocy-from my friends when we met on the weekends, and for a short time it became my main source of income. Having been fired from my one steady job at the Taiwanese take-out, I found myself looking forward to every Friday; as it would mean yet another opportunity to make fifty bucks from snorting mustard off a flame-grilled cheeseburger.

Now, for the majority of our weekly meetings, my good friend Bill took a great liking to inventing incredible tasks for me to fulfill. Each week, he found new ways to top himself-and to further humiliate me in exchange for a portion of his paycheck. There was the time where he made me guzzle a can of seltzer water filled with hobo spiders...the time when he made me streak through the elementary school crossing down by 45^th and Pike Avenue...and his all-time favorite, the good ol' "fake heart attack" I performed on the subway ride back home.

These were the diamonds in his scepter; constant reminders of the power he wielded over me. However, his greatest crown jewel to date would certainly be the most recent gag that we pulled. It was also the strangest thing I've ever done for money, bar none.

"You ever do any ventriloquism, Chuck?"

These were his words to me only a few months ago. When I shook my head, he presented me with a wrinkled ad that looked like it had been hastily torn from a newspaper. It read something along the lines of learning "the mystical and archaic art of the invisible voice" in just five days. Looked like a straight-up scam to me, but to Bill it meant two things:

1) It was a golden opportunity to send me on a one-horse ride through hell, and
2) He was going to cough up at least $350 for the cheap laughs.

Trust me, if I didn't need the money so badly, I would have brushed him off and told him to take a hike with this ridiculous scheme of his. But, I did in fact need the cash, so I had to abide by his plan-his wonderful, horrible plan.