Seeking Bonds

The writing challenge continues from Indie Ink. Each week about 30 of us come up with an "idea" or a "challenge" which then randomly gets submitted to another person on the list. (You can visit the blogs of the other writers taking this challenge in the column to the right...) Welcome to week 3. As always, feel free to leave comments, suggestions, and other neuronically-fired feedback either in the comments here, or on Twitter or Facebook!

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Week 3.
My Challenger: Lazidaisical
My Challenge: Three people are sitting in a bail bonds establishment somewhere in Nevada. Why are they there?

Previous Challenges:
[Week 1.] [Week 2.]

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Seeking Bonds

I sit at this desk in boredom,
Out the window, a great desert kingdom.
But it never lasts long,
This borish old song,
For people come to me seeking bonds.

At what to my surprise at three
(That's three in the morning, you see),
A very striking blond,
Seeking a bond
For her lover of seventy-three.

"He's wrongly accused!" she cried,
Wiping the tears from her eyes.
"It's not that he's old!
It's simply a cold
That blurred his great vision tonight!"

"About your sob story," I confessed,
"I actually could really care less.
Just hand me the loot
To free the old coot.
Of your story I'm not much impressed."

Just as she was regaining composure
And handing me money for closure,
The door bell did tingle,
And into our group did mingle
Someone about "indecent exposure."

"In his own house he was!
From alcohol suffering a buzz!
He's a hippie, you see,
Quite fancy free,
The neighbors reported him just because!"

I gave him a dead-pan stare,
Of these excuses I just didn't care!
"It's money I need
For your friend to be free.
Of your stories, go tell a bear!"

"You're so callous and jaded!" screeched the blond,
"Of your sole care for money and bonds!"
With that, again cried,
Like a jilted bride,
Making me wish I could really just abscond!

But suddenly, then, there were three!
Demanding my attention painfully!
But this was a hoot
(though still just as moot)
As this story was told with such glee.

"That roses are red," he began
"was the crux of her devious plan.
She's guilty as sin,
But I have thick skin,
And I must this night free my wife Ann!"

The blond stood there quite aghast,
And the other man tried to look past
This obvious loon,
much like a baboon,
But before they could speak, I gasped:

"Listen up, folks, and listen well!
These tales you spin like caramel
Don't mean a thing.
And without any bling,
Your loved ones will rot in their cells!"

The blond slapped a check on the counter,
"May this be our very last encounter!"
And with head held real high,
Her tears now quite dry,
Her exit, I admit, was quite stellar.

"But naked he wasn't!" cried the second.
"He should tell the judge, I reckon,
For I really don't care.
Do you have fare?"
I asked like one quite forsaken.

"Justice this country is missing!
My lover and I were just kissing!"
I gave him a glare
"Life isn't fair!"
And with that, left the money, almost hissing!

And then we were down to just two.
Me, and the one with Ann, the loon
Who tried offing her man,
Her "devious plan,"
At least, that's what he said, a sad tune.

"Tell me," I asked, "why free her,
If your life she was to deter?"
He looked quite surprised
And me he chastised,
"Of stories you suddenly prefer?"

"Just tell me the amount, nosy boy!"
Curious, he's suddenly coy
To tell me the tale--
Just posting the bail?
"Okay, okay!" he said, quite annoyed.

"She wasn't herself then, you see.
It's the plethora of personalities,
They live in her brain.
Life's never very plain
As Annie, inside, is twenty-three!"

"That many in one head?" I cried, disbelieving.
"That's rubbish! Why the deceiving?"
"It's all true," he replied,
"I tell you no lie,
And tonight was not Ann, but Mae Ling!"

"Mae Ling? What a bunch of bull poo!
This deception you cannot see through?
Schizo's are rare,
And the medical care!
The costs would change your world view!"

"Is this the inquisition now?" he replied.
But a nerve I had hit, told his eyes.
"One out of twenty-three
Is more than enough for me!"
The (now obviously) lonely man cried!

"Hey, it's your life," I concede.
"At least, for tonight, it now seems.
But mark my wise words,
Just like a bird,
You're being small-minded, seems to me."

"You don't know us!" was his nasty retort.
"And the truth will come out in court!"
I shook my head sadly,
That could only go badly,
I feared they both were mentally short.

He hastily made out a check,
His hands shaking, quite a wreck!
But then he was pausing,
My words seemingly causing
Of reality, a reality check!

"But I love her so much, don't you see?
And life's never boring for me.
With twenty-three wives
All living their lives
In one fantastic body--such glee!

"So the one, Mae Ling, hates me--big deal!
The twenty-two others find me genteel,
It's like being a Mormon
Without all the boredom
Of twenty-three marriages to conceal!"

I replied, "Of that you may have a point,
Or perhaps your high--too many joints!
Tonight you will die,
I'm telling you--no lie!
Those types of people don't disappoint!"

I watched him walk away quite deluded.
"That's a dead man walking," I concluded.
I shook my head sadly,
But then realized quite gladly
In Nevada, silence was once again exuded.

I sit at this desk in boredom,
Out the window, a great desert kingdom.
But it never lasts long,
This borish old song,
For people come to me seeking bonds.