The Ballad of Little Johnny

Let me tell you the story of a man named Johnny.  But Johnny wasn’t always a man.  He was once a little boy.  Little Johnny they called him, and boy was he little.  He was so little he could fit into spaces other children couldn’t fit into!  But enough about the applicability of his eponymous adjective.  This is a story about Little Johnny’s life.

Little Johnny grew up the son of a coal miner and an auto mechanic (his father and uncle, respectively) in urban South Dakota.  He was a simple boy with simple dreams — to be an astronaut and save the world from mutant, sickle-wielding space crocodiles.  He worked hard in high school, earning a 5.6 GPA and finally, after much tribulation and sexual favors, got accepted into one of the nation’s most prestigious universities (name withheld to protect the institution’s privacy).

As a Princeton student, Little Johnny worked even harder than he did in high school.  He studied with the fervent fervor of a man condemned to death trying to find legal loopholes the morning before his execution.  But one day, Little Johnny took a class with an imposed grading curve.  Only ten people would get A’s!  When the semester was over, Johnny had a 96%, but lo and behold — ten people had managed to get a 97 and/or higher%!  Little Johnny got a B, and rapidly spiraled into depression. On the verge of suicide, Little Johnny’s cries roused Little Suzy, the girl across the hall, who comforted Johnny and brought him back from the edge of his dark abyss.  Little Johnny was the happiest he’d ever been, until one fateful day while the two were playing hopscotch on the railroad tracks on a plain in the middle of a lightning storm during tornado season, Little Suzy was run over by a run away buffalo herd.

Little Johnny was heartbroken and crushed once again, but the only thing that kept him going was the prospect of law school admission results sent to him next week.  “Surely I’ll get in,” thought Little Johnny, “My grades are so exceptional and I’m such a kind person!”

But the synod of the law school saw Little Johnny’s B in Sociological Repercussions of Suppressed Bestial Tendencies 101 and could not admit such imperfection into their mighty school, their mighty fortress of higher learning and last bastion against the orcs of Mordor!  Little Johnny’s application was denied.

When Little Johnny found out about his rejection from all law school for all time, his fragile psyche finally snapped.  He quickly turned to heroin to ease his day-to-day suffering and became emaciated and gaunt and frail and skinny.  Now Little Johnny — actually, now just called Johnny — can be found on the streets of North Hollywood, selling his bodily fluids and organs for smack and raving to someone just above your left shoulder about the inequities of law school applications and that one fateful B.

He also smells like cat piss.


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