“HEEEELLLLLPPPP! Please, helppp me!! Old man… helpp me please.”
I spun at the shrill cry and suddenly found myself accosted by a young man.
He looked to be in his early to mid 20s, wide-eyed and pouring with sweat – like he had been challenged to fill a bucket with it.
He grabbed my shirt and clung to me for dear life as if it was not our first time meeting.
“Ah, but what’s this?!! Do I know you??!!” I demanded, irritated by this stranger who stank of piss and sweat, wore torn clothes, and had twigs sticking out of his unkempt afro.
His eyes bulged from his sockets as he scanned frantically, first left and then right. For a moment I worried that they would plop out of his head and onto my feet.
He opened his mouth to speak but instead swallowed a few gulps of air, like a fish out of water.
“Speak or I swear by the gods I will slap you!” I growled, even more irritated by his behaviour.
He managed to compose himself for a moment and then spoke, “Help me, sir! I am a trader and I was traveling to Badagry to sell my wares when I was kidnapped by 3 huge men. They wore black masks and threatened to shoot me in the face if I didn’t get in the back of their van!”
“I was their hostage for 3 days. When they realised that I was poor and no one was coming to pay my ransom money, they decided to kill me and sell my body parts instead! I was lucky enough to escape when I had the chance, but now they are chasing me and are not too far behind!! “
Badagary was an industrious town next door that was popular amongst tourists and business people for its many things to do and places to see. Much unlike the dull and dusty town of Kwa where we currently were.
I had heard enough stories of the murders and kidnappings that happened on the road to Badagary to know that the stranger’s story could hold some truth.
But if he said people were after him, then it meant that I too was at risk….
“What is your name?” I asked
“Benji, sir…” he responded, his grip never eased off my shirt
“I need you to calm down a bit Benji, let go of my shirt. Here, sit.” I pulled out a chair for him and pushed him into it.
His eyes never stopped darting around as if his pursuers would appear any minute
“Why do you think I can help you, Benji?”
At this, he stopped scanning his environment for a moment and regarded me seriously, as if I had asked him the most ridiculous question on earth.
“Because you are the old wise man….” he replied incredulously, indicating first to my overgrown white beard and then to the large sign hanging over the entrance of my shop which read “Old wise man international.”
“…and the old wise man always has the tools to save those in trouble. So please, help me!”
“That’s preposterous! I would never….” I started to say, and then I stopped myself.
He was right.
The old wise man always had the one tool to help save the day.
My mind went to the bag of garlic I had at the back of my shop. It had been a slow month with sales and I was yet to meet my quota.
I felt a light bulb come on in my dusty old noggin.
I may not be much of an old wise man, but I was an old wise sales man…surely that counted for something.
“…Erm, actually you know what, Benji. I know what will help you.”
“What?!” He asked earnestly, almost falling over from leaning too far forward in his chair, his bloodshot eyes fixed on mine.
I raised my finger indicating for him to wait and disappeared into my shop. I returned a moment later with a handful of garlic.
“Garlic,” I said matter of factly.
“Garlic??” His brows raised in amazement and he regarded me in disbelief.
“These are not just any garlic, these are magic garlic.” I shoved them in his face so he could see how they glistened under the hot Kwa sun.
He sank back in his chair and scowled at me.
“But….b-but….” he sputtered, “ …how will these help? Don’t you have a gun or something I could use to fight my pursuers? My life is in danger and you offer me garlic??!!?”
I shook my head, “ No, not just any garlic. Magic garlic.”
He was silent for a moment as he stared at me and then he replied “But I have garlic intolerance, sir.”
“What happens when you take garlic?”
“I fart…a lot sir, loud stinky farts.” He blushed.
“All the more reason you need them!” I insisted, “Now open wide!” I grabbed his jaw and pulled it open so I could shove a fist full of garlic into his mouth.
“Mmmfff…!!!” He started to protest but then began to chew, and his eyes lit up.
“These are quite tasty…they don’t taste like garlic at all….they taste like…”
“Bacon?” I completed and he nodded in response.
And then suddenly,
Crash!
“WHERE IS THE FOOL?!!!”
I heard before I saw the 3 hefty men round the corner and appear in front of my shop. They were truly giants, at least 8 feet tall, easily towering over my 5 foot 9.
They also stank of piss and sweat and I wondered briefly if this generation of youth had a complete disregard for hygiene.
They glowered at me for a second and then their gaze returned to Benji.
“There you are!” The largest of the 3 men yanked him off his feet and began to choke him
“I’m going to kill you for making us chase you all this way”
Benji tried to speak but spittle ran down his mouth.
“What was that?” The man choking him sneered.
“I….I’m going to fart…F-fuck y-you…” He squeezed out through a foaming mouth and a crushed throat
That was my cue to put on the face mask I had waiting in my pocket.
And then it happened.
He farted.
It started as a little toot. Small but stinky enough for the man holding Benji in the air to turn his face away in disgust
“Ugh, how gross.” One of the men said, waving his hand in his face. The third man laughed…a wicked sound.
“Die, you disgusting shit!” The man I had now identified as the leader said, digging his fingers even deeper into Benji’s neck .
And again it happened.
Prrrrooooootoootoootooooom!!!
I saw the air escape from his butt crack…green and deadly. Then I watched it expand with a force powerful enough to fling the men in all directions.
One of his pursuers was flung against an electric pole, instantly knocking him out.
What came next was even deadlier. The smell, oh good lord the smell.
Like a corpse and rotten egg had a baby…and named it death
I watched the other two men struggle to breathe ….
“Hel-*cough*-help us….” They begged as they drew their last breath, their fingers clawed futilely at their chest as if to tear it open at one last desperate attempt to let some air.
I watched them struggle…and then finally they stopped moving. Their tongues hung out of their mouths and their eyes stayed wide open with torment, unseeing.
Benji laid curled up on the floor, crying.
I took off my mask, walked to him and helped him to his feet.
“That will be $15, young man. Cash or card?”
Another satisfied customer.
*******
Inspired by garlic intolerance
