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Story © 2023 by John Tabacco
Music : Speak Without A Voice (And A Motive Too..) © 1991 by Tabacco
Published by It Iz What It Iz Music (SESAC)

lyrics

LUCKY TO HAVE AN ANGEL

Angel had many quirks. But the one that stood out the most was his insistence to throw "imaginary boxing punches" into the air at seemingly random times. At first, I thought it was comedy gold. But soon it became a bit unnerving and embarrassing, as others would look at him as if he was nuts. Well, you would! Right? However, there was this one time I’ll never forget. We were in "Charm’s Wormhole Deli.” I was about to order a ham and cod sandwich when all of a sudden out of the corner of my eye Angel’s fist goes “whoosh” right by the side of my head. It scared the hell out of me. To my surprise (and I do mean surprise) I heard a bone chilling smack and then a thud. Angel burst out, “Got you, you sneaky bastard!” I jumped up and I stood in disbelief as a Gray alien suddenly materialized before me on the checkered floor. It was out cold or so I thought. Angel seemed unfazed by the whole ordeal. He simply snorted and shrugged and proceeded to order his own sandwich as if nothing had happened. As I stood there trying to make sense of what had just occurred, Angel spoke to me in a hushed voice. "Don't worry about it my friend. That’s just one of those pesky little aliens who's been bothering me for weeks. I took care of him." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Took care of him?" I stammered, my voice cracking like a cheap violin. “Jesus Christ, what the?…” A confused crowd gathered around me as the alien came to and slowly stood up half dazed. Immediately there was a deadening silence in the deli as fear suddenly pervaded the atmosphere. I broke into a cold sweat and a young pregnant woman behind us let out a shriek that could shatter molasses! It was at that moment that the Gray turned towards us and goes all psychic and starts tossing "Twinkies" at us. We're ducking cream-filled missiles like we're in a bakery war zone.
As we dodged the incoming projectiles, the Gray made a bee line towards the front exit. Angel, quick as a hiccup, jumps on it and goes full throttle “Muhammad Ali” - throwing severe lightning fast blows to it’s huge head. At one point he socked the alien right into his big black eyes. A viscous smelly fluid squirted everywhere and just like that the alien vanished into thin air. I stood there in shock… Well you would - ya know? (just watching as Angel calmly picked himself off the ground). He limped back to me, snatching a napkin off the counter to wipe off the dark glowing goo on his hand. "I'm sorry you had to witness that my friend. But sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do."
The old man behind the counter, his mouth hanging open like a garage door stuck halfway, motions for us to scram. I didn't know what to say. My ham and cod sandwich - just a distant memory. I was still processing what had just happened. "Angel, what the hell?”
Angel sighed like a man who's seen one too many sci-fi movies. “My friend, there are forces out there that are way beyond our paygrade. That critter was not here for a hoagy and lottery ticket. It was here to feast off our emotions.”
"How can you be so sure?", I asked him.
"Believe me I know," he said confidently. “Abducted” is my middle name.
I was beginning to realize there were more layers to Angel than I had ever imagined. "So, what's the game plan now?" I ask, trying to make sense of this Twilight Zone lunacy that just unfolded.
Angel smiled. "We carry on with our lives. We can't let the existence of invisible extra terrestrial beings disrupt our daily routine. But rest assured, I will always be vigilant, watching out for any signs of danger." Woosh! He swung another imaginary punch.
As we stumbled out of the deli I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The world as I knew it had in an instant become a more surreal and frightening place. But hey, I’m lucky to have an Angel look after me.

credits

from Artificial Tales Of Gleep And Whimsy (Vol. 2), released November 6, 2023
JT : Voice, Programming, Mixing
Recorded and Mixed at Suburban Hermit Studios III, Ronkonkoma, NY

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John Tabacco Stony Brook, New York

John Tabacco is a composer, singer-songwriter, producer, recording engineer, and visual artist.

Like an unfolding musical diary / puzzle, Tabacco’s music and art are constantly being re-worked, juxtaposed and intertwined.

For more info : www.johntabacco.net
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