Prozeugma (pro-zoog’-ma): A series of clauses in which the verb employed in the first is elided (and thus implied) in the others.
I’m goin’ to Kansas City. Kansas City, what a place. On a train. On a plane. On a skateboard. On my feet. On a chopper. On an electric bicycle. It’s all the same to me. I’m goin’ to Kansas City. They got some grease- drippin’ barbecue there and I’m gonna’ get me some. I might have the beef. I might have the pork. I hope my boss lets me take two days off work, so I can go to Kansas City and have my tastebuds transmit the holy flavor to my head. I’ll eat ten sandwiches and then go home—home from Kansas City, back to my boring meaningless life; no house, no car, no wife. Maybe I’ll stay in Kansas City permanently. I’ll work in a barbecue van and make my mark.
Now, I work at a marble factory in a former Dodge motor car assembly plant in Detroit. The marbles are made in China. We just put them in cardboard boxes with our brand on them. The brand is “Dynamite Dubs.” It signifies our marbles’ ability to knock out two or more opponents’ marbles with a single shot. My job is to tuck in the box’s flap in to keep the marbles from falling out. It is a boring job, but the pay is good. I eat out at MacDonald’s every night. Sometimes, I splurge on a Value Meal. I weigh 320 lbs., just like the President. At least I can be proud of something!
The boss told me I couldn’t take two days off. In fact, he told me he needed me 24/7 to help guard the plant when the tariffs kicked in. He was certain there would be violence when the price of marbles went up 145%. Already, there was talk on the street. He was issuing everybody an M-16. He had gotten permission from “Bullet” Bassey (Detroit’s Police Chief) to shoot anybody standing outside the marble plant. He said they were a “national security threat” and we were authorized to “kill ‘em all.” We were supplied ammunition by ICE, and, as a bonus, five boxes of hand grenades to be used at the “slightest provocation.” Bob, the center fielder for the plant’s softball team, was elated. He could reach home plate every time with his “canon arm.” He said, “My arm has a whole new meaning! I can’t wait.” ICE also told us it was Ok to shoot children, as long as we didn’t aim for the head. ICE was concerned that the “mess” a head shot makes might arouse the ire of the commie libtards and cause them to post unflattering things on social media.
I was freaking out. Now I knew first-hand what the Twilight Zone was all about. I quit my job. I charged up my bicycle and headed for Kansas City. I arrived one week later. I had gotten two flat tires along the way, and had to charge up five times. The first thing I did when I got to Kansas City, was have four pork barbecue sandwiches. Then, I went looking for a job. I got a job in a barbecue van. It was perfect. My biggest hope fulfilled!
I was eating up to 9 barbecue sandwiches per day. I know it sounds insane, but I couldn’t help myself. I shot up to 400lbs and started to waddle like a giant duck. Then, one day I had a King-Kong sized heart attack. I died and came back to life three times in the ambulance. They say my heart looks like a big lump of Crisco, and if I don’t stop pigging out on barbecue sandwichs, I’ll die. I’ve cut back to 4 barbecue sandwiches a day. In one month, I’ve lost 3 pounds. I feel fit.
At night, I dream I am a giant barbecue sandwich being eaten by Taylor Swift. Her teeth caress my bun and she bites and chews me up slowly and seductively in little loving nibbles. I am having my name legally changed to Barbecue Sandwich. But most important, I have developed a men’s barbecue sandwich scented cologne called “Face Sauce.” Our slogan is “Lick my face. Zero calories.” It’s selling like crazy.
So, I just read the newspaper. Detroit is in flames. No children killed yet.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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