Three days ago, Zee Poo-Dyba was at the park. I was off-duty, and had heard some incredible things about this guy, or this force, or whatever you want to call him. Anyway, I thought maybe I could earn bragging rights the next Tuesday night if I could tell my pals over a bottle that I'd actually spoken to Poo-Dyba.

I went for a walk in the park, just wandering past the bench where he sat. "What're you doing?" I asked as casually as possible.

When he looked up, I nearly shit my pants. His eyes burned with an awesome fury and when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a painful beeping. His face kept changing around his huge black moustache, and he wore a big black coat.

I put my hand on my .38, you know, just in case. I'm serious. This guy was bad news. I stepped back, and said, "Yeah, pleasure to meet you, sir."

He just kept on beeping.

I saw the doctor later that day, and he said I'd suffered permanent hearing damage to both ears, major brain atrophy in my occupational lobe or something, and some condition that makes your fingernails fall out. Whatever happened out there, I was in no shape to tell my buddies about it on Tuesday. I tipped down as many bottles as I could, and they called a cab and helped me into it.

I've still got a ringing in my left ear that never stops, and I see Poo-Dyba everywhere now. His big black moustache pastes itself onto the face of my wife when we make love, my dog when it shits, and bowling-balls at the alley. Just yesterday I saw the eyes and the moustache on some hot dish my wife baked up. Anyway, I couldn't eat it.

Not a moment goes by I'm not thinking of him or seeing him. Maybe I was stupid out there, but I couldn't have deserved this. It hurts. I wish he would just get down, and out of my life.