RIP Chuckles

September 8, 2016 at 12:25 am (Cussed Dumbers, That's not funny..., Waxing Nostalgic)

fat catI got some sad news via Faceplace this morning. My old friend and coworker Chuckles has died. He was 50.

Chuckles and I worked at a store before Master P’s, and over time I brought along him and Uncle Cliffy. While Chuckles was mostly immobile, he was as honest as the overnight is long. His inability to move was his downfall; Chuckles weighed over 600 pounds the last time I saw him, and he was walking then. Sorta.

The first time I saw Chuckles was a mindbender. I was in a roadside convenience store, being interviewed by Guy and Gayle, the names of my sister and brother-in-law. A huge redheaded guy named Chuck walked in, and by huge I mean jaw-dropping huge. I could tell by the look on his face that my shock had registered. Being fat at the time myself, about 450, it at once made me feel better and horrified about myself. I’d already lived through one hospital life-saving, where I weighed in at 528. Chuckles was walking around with about 150 more pounds than that. The fact that he could walk at all amazed people.

Chuckles loved guns and Jesus, hated drugs and hookers. I was cool with all of the above. (That was how people told us giant redheads apart. My hair was buzzcut to a quarter-inch, he was bald.) We both had a thing for black girls, but his took him for his life savings, so he hated black people too. This caused minor problems in conversation, because his racist commentaries would conflict dearly with what I had learned in life. I wouldn’t allow him to bag on people for being different. He was blessed to be born white, but cursed with the affliction that is mocked universally. He was fat.

I had some good times working with Chuckles. Whether pranking him, or pranking him, I always had him on alert. He needed it working the overnight shift at the Mothership. Eventually Master P had to let him go, and because of which, Master P even changed his store hours. Because he’d “eliminated the position” Chuckles could collect unemployment for upwards of a year while looking for a job closer to his home in the mountains. It’s the only time I know of Master P helping someone get unemployment. He also helped with Chuckles Social Security. Most bosses wouldn’t go out of their way like that.

And now, Chuckles has gone off to that great graveyard shift in the sky. Him and Jesus, hanging out, talking guns and eating pork ribs. Aim your guns at the south, Chuckles. RIP.

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8 Comments

  1. Raving_Rapport_Durrr said,

    PoofyClouds Examiner, page 3, lower right article-
    Heaven’s 11th district faces overnight sandwich shortage, local resident’s miffed, unsure how they can perform sacrement without daily bread.
    This story to be updated pending further investigation.

  2. beastard said,

    Ohh Lord…

  3. Raving_Rapport_Durr said,

    “ohh Lord” indeed.
    Word on the cloudstreet is sandwichless residents are calling him out on the “I am the bread of life” statements, and demand he step in as a substitute to ease the problem. A friend of a friend of one of his assistants said “J-Boss can’t do it anymore, and that he still hasn’t fully recovered from the loaves and fishes thing & that he still has huge scars on his calf muscles that just won’t heal (heel?) right, despite his healing powers.”

    • beastard said,

      “Manna? What manna?”

  4. Raving_Rapport_Durr said,

    Ha! Funny that you mention Mana,
    I heard Robin Williams has been on a real tear lately and I guess he was giving Chuckles a friendly rib about the sandwich shortage, yelling: “A Sandwich is a Sandwich!, but a Mana-wich is a meal eh Chucky Boy?!!!”
    Then I heard later that Robin got in a bit of trouble later for joking that for everytime a puppy dies, God masturbates…
    ……Shozbott…….

    • beastard said,

      Ah, nothing like a bit of sacrilege to get ol’ Chuckles a squirmin’. Those who question the mean-spiritedness had not spent much time around Chuckles and his acerbic wit. He was not one to hold back an insult, and we all know how he loved a good roast…

      • Don Rickles said,

        roast beef, roast chicken, roasted lamb, roasted corn on the cob, roasted…..

  5. BOB UECKER said,

    Must be in the front row….
    *oh wait, I’m not dead yet*

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