Nelson Galaxy

I was rather upset to discover that my good buddy Busby is moving to New York. He will be on a six month placement as a games designer for a popular entertainment software company. He is rather nervous about this geographical displacement. Busby has never visited the States before and he is under the impression that North America is a war zone, full of guns and psychopaths.

“I’m scared Nelson, but I am preparing for any possible trouble,” he told me on the telephone, his voice shaking slightly. He explained how he had started an intense program of toughening himself up. He has been in the gym regularly for the past few months, pumping iron and using the treadmills and cycling contraptions.

He emailed me a picture of his new pumped-up self. He was wearing tiny denim shorts and a cropped Gold’s Gym top, which had no arms. His muscles hypertrophied until he bulged like a sackful of cats. Busby had become a super powerful muscle-bound clown.

I told him he would be able to crush any attackers with his fists alone but this did not placate him. “I have a secret to tell you Nelson, I have bought a gun,” he admitted conspiratorially. I was shocked. I could not imagine this mulleted, happy-go-lucky guy of low intelligence carrying a gun.

He emailed me another picture and upon opening it I was greeted by the image of an enormous Magnum manufactured firearm, its phallic barrel protruding out of the monitor to an impossible length.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Busby was breathing heavily down the line. I sensed he had become aroused and that his palms were sweaty, desire was palpable in his voice. “I’m picking her up from a store in Brooklyn. No one will mess with me with this sexy baby in my pocket. I will be the King of New York. All will kneel before me.”

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”
“It’s a gun Nelson, a very very big gun.”

On the Nelson hi-fi today:
Serge Gainsbourg – “Du Jazz Dans Le Ravin”