8........

Well, Folks,

I tried to broadcast one of my masterpieces on YouTube, and they pulled it over pornography complaints. Would ya believe it?  You'd have thought circumcision wasn't commonplace on the subway. Jeez Belize.

Anyway, I said I'd tell you about Walton. Here goes...

I know, he has the eyes of a killer. And he is one, folks. Right to the bone.

The night we met was bitterly cold, and Checkpoint Charlie was lit up like a torch. Roy and I passed each other, scurrying from one shell hole to another. Discretion was our watchword, folks. Everything back then, during the Cold War, was hush hush. Even your mother didn't know, and she knows everything. We were literally teetering on the brink of death, when Roy dislodged a tiny pebble.

The noise seemed to fill the whole of Berlin. It rang in my ears like the tolling of the bells of Notre Dame. 'Roy,' I whispered in my head, 'Roy, my dear friend, we are in peril.'

I waited for what seemed like hours.

Nothing stirred.



All was still.



"YOU GODDAM FUCKING SNOT-NOSED CUNT!!!" I whispered, quietly, "YOU HAD TO KICK THE FUCKING ROCK, YOU TWICE PROVED ASSHOLE!!!" I reasoned, almost silently, "YOU'VE SURE AS SHIT BROUGHT THE WHOLE FRIGGING HOUSE DOWN ON US NOW, YOU PRICK!!!" I reassured him, at no very great volume.

Then all of sudden, due entirely to Roy dislodging that pebble, the Stasi opened fire with their sub-machine guns. Roy was wounded in 7 places, which was entirely his own fault. I, on the other hand, was grievously deprived of my favorite rangers hat, which Roy has still, to this day, not replaced.

Anyway, that's enough for now. You all probably need to digest that.

But in the meantime, all my books are on "DOUBLE THE HALF-PRICE OFFER". Buy now, you shmucks.*

BS

*Secured loans are available. Your house may be at risk.

9........

So,

Out of all the thousands of entries to my competition, I have one thing to say....

CALL YOURSELVES MAGICIANS? YOU GUYS COULDN'T ORGANIZE A CRAP SHOOT IN A WHOREHOUSE FOR CRISSAKES!

Lamentable. Laughable. Like you bozos have feet at the end of your wrists!

Okay, here's what I'll do. I'll "upload", despite being a lousy computer person, my own performance of a Solayme classic. Then you'll see what real magic is all about.

Then, after that, I'll finally spill the beans about me and Roy Walton.

But it ain't pretty. No. It's one sordid story of love, betrayal, a terrible haircut, more love, another two betrayals, Telly Savalas and a tub of jello.

No, it wasn't pretty. But it's a story that needs telling.

BS

10........

Well Folks,

                  "Ask not for whom the bell tolls,
                    It tolls for thee, Barry Solayme!"

Thus spoke the famous novelist, William Shakespeare.

There's a new, FAKE kid in town, calling himself "LARRY HORAYNE". He's pretending to be Yours Truly, but really he is JUST SO MUCH JISM OFF MY THROBBING, LEAKING COCK ALREADY!!!

Alright, the kid seems to know about cards, some. FROM HAVING READ AND DIGESTED ALL MY FREAKIN' BOOKS, THAT IS! But the kid is full of psychobabble, and has probably been hitting the creme de menthe once too often.

All the same, I feel it might be time to hang up my gloves. So I'm offering a countdown.

A final countdown.

I want your presentation of a Solayme Classic, on video, for my final countdown. This is number ten, so I await your offerings! I nominate Roland to go first, followed by Larry Horayne, (THAT LOW DOWN GOON)

I suggest you click this link before recording your Barry Solayme Classic Routine.

BS