Epizeuxis: Repetition of the same word, with none between, for vehemence. Synonym for palilogia.
“Shuck, shuck, shuck.” I worked in a seafood restaurant named “Flounder” as an oyster shucker. We were required to “contribute to the atmosphere” by yelling “shuck, shuck, shuck” whenever we finished shucking a half-dozen or a dozen oysters. I didn’t think it mattered, so I yelled “suck, suck, suck” and “schmuck, schmuck, schmuck” and nonsense words like “shunk.” One night, right before closing I yelled “shuck you, mother shucker.” I had gone off the rails.
The Boss, Mr. Tony from New York, came up to me and said “You think you’re smart don’t you, wise guy?” I told him I was going to college and I would graduate soon, so yeah, I was smart. He told me we were going for a boat ride after I got off work. I wondered if I was going to be thrown overboard wrapped in cinder blocks. I got off at 11.00 and me, Mr. Tony, Tommy Chadrool, and Sticky headed to the dock. It was a beautiful night. Stars filled the sky and it was warm with no breeze. We boarded Mr. Tony’s boat. It was named “A Billion” for all the money Mr. Tony had made in the “restaurant” business. It was majestic: mahogany, teak, polished brass, and two huge diesel engines. The cabin was as big as my whole apartment, furnished in leather with 5 AK-47s set in a gun rack hanging from the wall. “A Billion” was fifty feet long with a crew of six.
The engines started, we untied and headed slowly around the harbor. as we passed “Flounder” Mr. Tony pointed at it and said “That place is a big success. If anybody does anything to hurt it, they will be in big trouble.” When he said “big trouble” he looked me in the eyes—I felt a burning.
So, from then on, I stuck with “shuck, shuck, shuck” when I finished a batch of oysters. I was yelling “shuck” one night when Mr. Tony’s daughter wandered in. She was 22 and beautiful. She said “you’re a big shucker, I’d like to shuck you after you get off work.” I had been warned about Carlotta. If anybody so much as looked at her for too long, they’d be found floating face down in the harbor. It was rumored too that she actually enjoyed playing death bait. So, I said, “We can shuck right now in the walk-in refrigerator.” She looked shocked: “What do you think I’m talking about you filthy goon?” Just then Mr. Tony walked up. “Is he bothering you Carlotta?” He asked. “He said he wanted to shuck me in the refrigerator.” she said. Mr. Tony started laughing uncontrollably—so hard his Beretta came out of its shoulder holster and fell on the floor. “Pick it up oyster boy” said Tony. I picked up and it fired, instantly killing Mr. Tony with a bullet to the head. Carlotta calmly dialed 911. When she was done with the call, she told me she had to go home and I could come over later if I wanted to.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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