Paraprosdokian: A figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase [or series = anticlimax] is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes the reader or listener to reframe the first part. . . . For this reason, it is extremely popular among comedians and satirists. An especially clever paraprosdokian not only changes the meaning of an early phrase, but also plays on the double meaning of a particular word.(1)
His duck was fast, missing punches over and over. He never lost a fight in his 12 years of boxing. He would train every day. Sometimes he would train for the whole day. He would run along the railroad tracks, staying between the rails, sort of hopping across the railroad ties.
He was committed, committed to the Atlantic Asylum. His mother committed him because she thought all his trying was “a little off.” His mother was a hair stylist. She specialized in shaving depressed women bald. She believed it allowed the to air out their brain and, as a consequence, lighten their mood. Given the number of depressed women (who are gullible too) her business flourished. It was rumored that she sold poison to the wives of errant husbands as the best and cheapest remedy “for all the bullshit.” She was also suspected of human trafficking. Again, the victims were errant husbands who ended up working as slaves in Kazak diamond mines and the garment trade in Cambodia and Bangladesh, and tomato fields of Mexico. Needless to say, she was brazen with her crimes, but she was untouchable. Nobody knew why, but she was.
Her son wanted one thing: to get the hell out Atlantic Asylum so he could continue his boxing career. His mother told him as soon as he “wasn’t a little off anymore” he would be released. He started his personal remediation program to get normal (in his mother’s eyes). He would become a vegetarian, get covered with tattoos, wear purple all the time, nickname himself Fishhook Jackson, and get an electric bicycle.
It was exceedingly difficult to follow his program, especially the tattoos. He bribed the Director of Atlantic Asylum and everything went smoothly. The bribery move really impressed his mother and was pivotal in securing his release.
He went right back to boxing and his rigorous training program. To stay in his mother’s good graces, he had to visit a brothel everyday. His favorite was “Angels Stroke.” He “saw” Braids Vinkle everyday. They didn’t have sex. Rather, he read his poetry to her. His poems were about boxing. Her favorite was “Ruptured Spleen” about the time he almost killed an opponent with a well-placed blow. He was very emotional when he read it, as if he was reliving the near-manslaughter while he read it.
Braids could barely hold back her passion. Fishhook was having none of it, until his mother found out he wasn’t having sex. She warned him and he capitulated. The next day was set for sex with Braids. He laid down on his back and began to read. Braids ripped off her clothes and jumped on Fishook. A spring sprung out of the old mattress and stabbed Fishook in the back. He died. It was bizarre—a first time ever for an accidental death: death from spring, but it usually it bings life.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.
The Daily Trope 