Puny Todd

Puny Todd* hated smiling and I did my best to avoid him.

He is always in between jobs or “am-just-about-to quit” phases that render him a depressed twit, too pissed with the world to offer a smile.

It’s not like people don’t call him a vacant-eyed looser beyond his back. But his friends always stick up for him. I was neither.

Now here he was, on a hot April afternoon, puny as ever, wearing baggy jeans and an oversized jacket.

“Hey I saw you from across the street. How are you?”

“What’s up Puny Todd. You look… well”

He huffed and he puffed “Yeah… you smell nice”

“Errr… thanks”

“You want to get out of the sun?”


Puny Todd gnawed along the edge of the bone and inspected the chunk of meat that was left. He held it up and proclaimed “This is good stuff” and proceeded to masticate, his cheeks straining with the effort.

“Mmm” I smiled downing my Soda.

“Puny Todd” I ventured, “Why do people find you irritating?”

“Slurrrrrp” His ice cream soda vanished.

“Ethos… they are intimidated by me”


“Why do men find you attractive Jo Gurl?” (Why does he always call me that)

“They don’t”

“You are humble. If you were socially ambient, they would find you intimidating. See what I mean?” (Socially what?)


“Not that I make value judgments of course.”


“Are you gonna finish your soda?”

Shaking head “mmhmmm”

“Slurrrrrp, thanks, you were always nice to me Jo m’ gurl”

Was that a smile? It looked like gas.

“Ethos… looks like the bastards got to me too Puny Todd!”

Whatever that meant.

*(Puny Todd’s name has been changed to help many of my non-blogging friends identify him. Most of us have forgotten his real name)