Category Archives: prodiorthosis

Prodiorthosis (pro-di-or-tho’-sis): A statement intended to prepare one’s audience for something shocking or offensive. An extreme example of protherapeia.

Once upon a time there was a man who did everything wrong. He ran over his dog in his driveway and crushed it—killing it after it suffered for a few minutes. Once, he was walking down the living room stairs carrying his baby. He reached for his cellphone and dropped the baby. The baby tumbled down the stairs and was dead when it reached the bottom. Once, he was deer hunting with a machine gun his grandfather had given him. He blew a whole clip into a fawn, turning it into a pile of bloody fur with two eye sockets. He left it there for the maggots. Once he threw a rock at the neighbor’s kid. The rock killed the kid and the man was sentenced to two years for manslaughter. The sentence was light because the kid was harassing him, calling him names and shooting him with paintballs—one of which hit him in the eye. Once he killed a baby whale off the coast of Santa Monica and towed it into the harbor behind his cabin cruiser “Betty Boop.” When he got to the dock, he was swarmed by angry townspeople. They wrapped him up in seaweed and threw him in the ocean. The Coast Guard hauled him out and wrapped him in a blanket and brought him back to his cabin cruiser, which had been scuttled by the mob. He rented a helicopter and flew home.

These are all bad things. Bad things happen to good people. Remedies, no matter how harsh, must be fitting.

As you know, our toilet seat cover business has suffered from tariffs—in fact it’s close to the end—we’re in arrears—ha ha. As I’ve been struggling with this, I’ve done something really bad. Three weeks ago, I locked the Board of Directors in the storeroom in the basement. It is dark and nearly airless. They wanted me to close the business and fire all of you. I could not do it, so I murdered them by starvation in the basement.

I checked on them yesterday—they are rotting on the floor in various ghastly poses, and they stink. They are never going to interfere with my plans again. I think we should shovel them up off the floor, put them in garbage bags, drive them to the county landfill, and keep our mouths shut while we get back on our feet.

By a show of hands, who is in favor of my plan?

Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

Daily Trope is available in an early edition 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.

Prodiorthosis (pro-di-or-tho’-sis): A statement intended to prepare one’s audience for something shocking or offensive. An extreme example of protherapeia.

Did I ever tell you the joke about what caused the Great Depression? Here goes! “What caused the Great Depression? A lack of comedians.” Ha ha!

We don’t have that problem here, but you’re all going to be standing in the unemployment line by the end of the month. My great-grandfather founded “No Phew Shoe” shoe deodorizing inserts and I “losted” it. We always competed with Dr. Scholl, but I became complacent—we stuck with rose petals when he started injecting charcoal into his inserts. He had his picture taken in a white lab coat to label his shoe deodorizers, while we stuck with “Stinky Pinkie the little toe with an attitude,” as a logo, never testing it with our customers as time went by. But, I should’ve known when we had T-shirts made with Stinky Pinkie on them, and we only sold two, that Stinky Pinkie was a bust. I just didn’t “toe” the line. But, what was worse was my embezzling. For that, I’ll probably go to prison.

The women! The beautiful women! I kept them happy with fake pearls and used cars, microwave ovens, and Tupperware. I took them on lavish vacations to places like Seaside Heights, New Jersey; Liberty Bell, Philadelphia; and the General Motors Plant, Linden, New Jersey. I took my favorites to High Point State Park in New Jersey. We would have romantic sunset picnics with clam dip with Ruffles potato chips washed down warm “Yoo-Hoo.” Memorable!

Slowly, but surely, I chipped away at No Phew’s profits and capital. When the casinos opened in Atlantic City, that was the end. I’d fill a plastic grocery bag with hundred-dollar bills, jump in my Cadillac, and head south singing “Viva Las Vegas” and “Beautiful Loser.” I never won anything, but wow, did they take care of me: free drinks and food, valet parking, VIP Lounge, 100s of complimentary key rings to give to my friends. I played the wheel of fortune for $500 per spin. I’d lose an average of $5,000 per night. I loved the attention. I even had free caviar one time!

But now, my shenanigans have landed you all in the unemployment line. With your experience making deodorizing shoe inserts, you should have no trouble finding a new job. As a token of appreciation for all you’ve done, everybody gets a free key ring! Line up to get your key rings!

His employees surged forward, pushing him out the open window behind him. The fall broke his neck. No charges were filed and the factory burned to the ground two days later.

Definition 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.

Prodiorthosis (pro-di-or-tho’-sis): A statement intended to prepare one’s audience for something shocking or offensive. An extreme example of protherapeia.

Ok kids. You’re probably wondering why we’re sitting here in the living room. You’re probably wondering where mama is. Only yesterday, she would be sitting there next to you. But today, she can’t be here.

Life is filled with uncertainties. It is a blessing and a curse—exciting and terrifying. No matter how much you hope, tomorrow can’t be known. We could never imagine that mama wouldn’t be here today. She has gone away with your Uncle Bill, my brother who has caused me relationship problems all my life. He stole 7 girlfriends from me in high school and college. It was like his hobby. After he broke up with each one, he’d offer a heartfelt apology and I would forgive him. I was a sucker—a big sucker.

But now, Uncle Bill has stolen your mother. Where did I go wrong? How did I fail? I always told her how nice and clean the kitchen was, and how clean she got the mag rims when she washed the car, and how great the lawn looked when she mowed it with the ride mower. We’d go out on our anniversary every year, the only time we needed to go out so she didn’t become distracted from her duties. And you know, we went on a one-week vacation every year, staying with your grandpa and grandma in their un-air conditioned bungalow in Flynt, Michigan. They treated us to bottled water every day! Mmmmm.

Mama took all of her belongings. If I know Bill, he will sell them and keep the money for himself. Not having a vacuum cleaner and microwave is a real setback, but we can use a broom for the vacuum cleaner, but I don’t know what to do about the microwave. She left the toaster oven. Maybe that will work as a replacement. So, as soon as Bill maxes out Mama’s credit card, he’ll drop her off on the front porch.

Hey did you hear that.? “Yes dad! It sounded like a bag of cement!” He opened the door and there was a bag of cement on the porch. It had a sticky note on it. It said, “Ha ha! Fooled you. We are headed to Florida to live happily ever after. Don’t try to find us. Just let your wife be happy for once in her life.” Little Bill, ironically named after his uncle, asked “Gee Dad, whatever are we going to do?” I told him that we were going to Florida to hunt them down, capture Mama and come back home. I would hire a PI to assist me. The children were unanimously in favor of my plan. Edward wanted to bring his BB gun so he could shoot Bill’s eye out. Because of airline restrictions we couldn’t do that. Edward was disappointed, but decided to throw “big rocks” at him instead.

We looked like a normal family walking through the airport—Little Bill was clutching his teddy bear and the twins were pulling their Disney-themed carry-on bags. When we got to the gate, the TSA officer asked me: “So what’s the purpose of your trip to Florida?” Little Bill heard him, and before I could say anything, he said ‘We’re going to capture my Mama and bring her back home. She ran away with my Uncle Bill.”

The TSA officer flinched and grabbed his radio. We weren’t going to make it to Florida. In fact, we weren’t going to make it to anywhere.

Definition 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.