Ready for a good laugh? Read Richard Karrel's excerpts from his dark, comedic novel, HAPPY.
Available on Amazon
Excerpt One
I returned to the first floor and headed for the den. I imagined the headlines in the morning Chicago Tribune:
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EXPLOSION KILLS NOTED PSYCHIATRIST AND FAMILY
Saturday morning, New Year’s Eve, Dr. Maxwell Wood, 45, professor of psychiatry at Presbyterian University Medical School and well-known sex therapist and syndicated columnist, his fiancé, Rudd Waters, 35, an ICU nurse at the same hospital, and Dr. Wood's mother, Happy Neuyare Wood, 72, formerly of Palm Springs, California, tragically died in a freak accident in Dr. Wood's posh Kenilworth home. It appears that Happy Wood's bowels exploded during the night, flooding Dr. Wood's house in three tons of human excrement. Experts say the Woods and Ms. Waters died instantly from fecal suffocation as they slept. Dr. Christian Rush, the well-known heart surgeon and former lover of Rudd Waters, said this was not an unusual case. “Exploding bowel syndrome,” he said, “is not an uncommon occurrence in elderly Jewish women.” An autopsy revealed that Happy Wood had not moved her bowels in over twenty-five years. The coroner could not rule out foul play.
According to Stephen Hawking, the famous quantum physicist, new theories concerning the origin of our universe are now under consideration. He recently lectured to a shocked audience of distinguished cosmologists and said that “new evidence points convincingly to a massive bowel movement as the genesis of all matter, including our own solar system, the surrounding stars, and the billions of galaxies. The universe is still expanding at a furious rate of speed and. . . .”
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Excerpt Two
My mother’s leftover homemade rancid meatloaf sat in the middle of my plate for as long as I could possibly stand to stare at it. I couldn’t imagine a starving child anywhere on planet Earth who could have tolerated the taste, presentation, or texture of my mother’s hideous cooking. Her meatloaf could have been marketed as the best emetic agent in the world and would have made syrup of ipecac seem like expensive bottled spring water. I can picture it now:
HAPPY’S MEATLOAF, as seen on the most popular of home-shopping channels, is highly recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics for clearing your child’s stomach of accidentally ingested toxic substances. It is 100% guaranteed to make anyone vomit within ten seconds of the first bite. Just feed your children a tiny morsel of Happy’s foul-smelling creation and watch your little munchkins vomit their guts out. Happy’s Meatloaf can be used in many other interesting ways: provide negative reinforcement for not doing homework; sprinkle it on your lawn and watch your neighbor’s nasty pit bull convulse himself into canine heaven; for a great practical joke, sneak it onto the hors d’oeuvres trays and watch wedding guests hurl as the caterer looks on in disbelief. Better yet, serve it to the bride and groom for an experience they’ll never forget. It makes a great stocking stuffer. Remember, when you want guaranteed vomit, reach for Happy’s Meatloaf. There’s a happy smile on the front of the puke-green box.
Rosie O’Donnell says: “Eat all the food you want without gaining a pound. Just one bite of Happy’s Meatloaf immediately returns a twelve-pack of recently savored Little Debbie snack cakes. Happy’s Meatloaf is a bulimic’s dream come true.”
To place your orders, call 1-800-GO-VOMIT. The first 500 callers will get a special bonus: expedited shipping at no extra charge. Operators are standing by. Quantities are limited, so don’t delay. Be the first on your block to have your cookies and toss them, too.
Excerpt Three
I thought of an excellent title for a book I should write: How to Choose an Emotionally Sick Woman. I will guarantee male readers they will be able to identify and woo the most emotionally unfit woman out of a lineup of one hundred contestants. Better yet, I will start an online dating service at eDysharmony.com with the objective of matching lonely, neurotic men with insecure, desperate women. The possibilities are endless. Or maybe I will place a classified ad in the Sunday Chicago Tribune:
45-y/o single, Jewish, overweight, Mama’s-boy psychiatrist, in search of a young, beautiful, tall, slender, virginal, sexy, smart, professional, independent, nurturing, loving, patient, calm, profound, light-hearted, giving, entertaining, single female who is never angry, vindictive, or blaming, and never complains, acts like a victim, or wants more than she can give, never drives on empty, talks too little or too much, and can anticipate my every need and knows how to be a whore in bed, but is not intimidating and believes that smaller is better, for a long-term committed. . . .
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Copyright (c) 2021 RK
All rights reserved.
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