Rotoscope

            Larry couldn’t believe it. There he was on the sidewalk, everyone gawking at him with hushed giggles in the background. Larry actually did it. He slipped on a banana peel and fell into the side of a garbage can. It was comedy gold at its best worthy of The Three Stooges or Marx Brothers. He tried to get up but some of the banana was still on his flat soled shoes so he slipped again and plopped down onto his butt. Finally another business guy came over and helped Larry up off the sidewalk.

            “Are you okay,” asked the stranger.

            “I’m fine. Just really embarrassed,” said Larry.

            “Dude, that was hilarious. I always thought it was just something from the cartoons or from slapstick shtick but you did it man. You slid and fell and just bailed on that banana peel,” said the stranger as he chuckled.

            “Yeah. Thanks,” said Larry.

            He wiped the remaining banana from his shoe on the sidewalk and saw that the crowd that had so eagerly laughed at him had dispersed. The stranger was still next to him.

            “Are you waiting for an encore,” growled Larry.

            “No man. Sorry,” said the stranger and he sulked off like his feelings were hurt. 

            Larry checked his shoe and the banana goo was finally wiped clean. He looked around the sidewalk for the offending banana peel but couldn’t find it. He wanted the satisfaction of throwing it away for making him look like a buffoon. But he couldn’t find it and it left him feeling very unsatisfied. He wanted to hurt it; to take some sort of twisted revenge on it. He took a breath to collect himself and tried to clear his head.

            “It was just an accident,” said Larry to himself as he started away from the scene of his embarrassment. He started walking along the busy city street, still red in the face from his mortification. He just couldn’t believe it really. He had slipped on a banana peel. It just didn’t seem real. He thought the viscosity of the banana peel against the concrete sidewalks wouldn’t be so slippery, but he was wrong. It was his flat soled shoes that were the problem. They were nice shoes but he was always slipping and sliding in them, especially when it rained. But they went so nicely with the majority of his suits.

            Larry continued his walk toward his office building. He was an important man within the firm and was starting to wonder if he should start taking the company car into the office instead of having to walk through the streets from the train station with wage slaves. The laughing wage slaves love it when a big wig gets some comeuppance; especially the pratfall kind. Larry turned and crossed the street oblivious to the warning cones in front of the building next door to his. He heard someone shouting and then he noticed how dark it was getting. He looked up.

            Larry blinked several times trying to adjust his eyes to the fluorescent light over head. A woman came into his sightline. She was saying something but he really couldn’t make it out. It was sort of muffled. He tried to say something but realized he couldn’t move his jaw.

            “Please, try to take it easy Mr. Vickers,” said the woman, “This is going to be a little hard to understand”.

            “Hmmph,” mumbled Larry.

            “I don’t know how much you remember, but you’ve been in a coma for about two weeks. You see, you were hit, nearly crushed actually, by a falling piano,” said the woman.

            “HMMPH!?”

            Larry tried to turn his head but he felt a twinge of pain in his neck. He tried to sit up but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

            “Mr. Vicker’s, I need you to relax. I’m Doctor Unger and I’m here to help you. This has been a very serious injury and you’re incredibly lucky to be alive. In fact, some of the other doctors were worried you’d come out looking like an accordion, you know. like in the cartoons,” said Dr. Unger.

            “Hmph,” pouted Larry.