The Au’dor

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The following has been excerpted fromThe London Times Literary Supplement:Alter Server of Godand solely written by Nathanial B. Bradatan.

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Exactly Who Is

Timothy McManus Anyway?

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written by
Nathanial B. Bradatan
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EAT YOUR PARENTS

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... Timothy McManus was born in Deerfield, Illinois, to an Irish-American father, Joseph McManus, Jr., and an Israeli-American mother, Hannah McManus (née Bloomberg). His father, who works as a management analyst for a federal government department, dutifully attends Catholic masses each Sunday morning; his mother prefers to stay at home and philosophically wonder why God has given her little in way of faith—most especially, her not-so-dutiful son Timothy.
“My mother is much like my dad: liquidly exuberant.” Timothy once used these words to describe his mother. “Her hair permeates with the heavy skunkish smell of marijuana.” He later recanted, muttering, “I’m sorry I said that. Kinda.”
Timothy’s first novel, Eat Your Parents, was published by The Beanstalk Book Press. Convinced their son’s novel was highly autobiographical—and somewhat vengeful—his parents published their own book entitled, …But Eating Rude Children is Far More Nutritious. Immediately upon graduation from Princeton, Timothy landed a job position with the NYC-based Jacob & Callaghan Publishing Co., Ltd.—at the time, the world’s most prestigious and eminent book publisher. ...

—image credit photographer/painter via Google

Many (almost all) mistake Sylvia (cough-cough) Tinklewart as [above] Fran Lebowitz.

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SAYING HELLO TO FRED FLINTSTONE & HIS COMIC PALS

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... Timothy subsequently described those first three years as “working in a pointless abstract cartoon.” He cited some of the atypical characters with whom he worked, such as his immediate boss, Sylvia (cough-cough) Tinklewart, who, according to Timothy, was a “narcissist, obsessive, manic-depressive chain-smoker who always punctured her verbal sentences with phlegm-drenched chronic coughing.”
The company’s CEO fared no better in Timothy’s analytical assessment: “He was the greediest living soul I’ve ever met. Those frightening black eyes would rotate like a cashier’s display, then come to an abrupt halt and spring open like a cash register drawer.”
Ka’ching! Or so it always went. ...

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SUDDENLY GOODBYE TO WILMA, SORTA

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... Timothy endured many setbacks in his life—highly disturbing nightmares, he would call them. One painful experience came about when his reporter girlfriend Barbara—Timothy immediately fell in love when he met her at Princeton—traveled to Atlanta for a news story. As it turned out, Timothy was talking on the phone to Barbara in her hotel room when he suddenly heard a distinctly husky male voice in the background.
“Hey, baby boo, you can’t trade paradise with a telephone call. Pleeeeeeeease come back to our inviting bed, my sweet little baby boo.”
This once wonderful and loving relationship came to its abrupt end, and it was back to the drawing board in the women department for the emotionally depressed Timothy. ...

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POSITIVE DOOR NOW OPENS

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... After a long bout of severe depression—three years, Timothy once admitted—he finally clawed his way out of the emotional cesspool and, either by chance or by fate, he first met “the most brilliant thinker who has ever existed since Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz or Leonardo Da Vinci or Isaac Newton or Johann Wolfgang von Goethe; perhaps even more than all of their IQ’s combined.”The brilliant person to whom Timothy was referring was Nikifor Dzhamgerchinov, affectionately called Nick by all who got to know him.
So how did Timothy first meet Nick?
Back then, Timothy was still working as an unsolicited manuscript reader (i.e., an ant looking up at the underside of an elephant’s threatening hooves). One afternoon, he reached into the stack of unread manuscripts and stumbled upon Kid Patagonian, written by Nikifor Dzhamgerchinov. The first chapter opened Timothy’s eyes to a whole new world of brilliant observations and speculations of life itself, and he simply could not stop reading. Instantly, Timothy realized that he had come across a genius of all other geniuses, dead or alive.
Thoroughly impressed by the stunning discovery that Timothy had made, CEO Cockfield promoted him to senior editor, instructing him to concentrate all his energy on preparing Kid Patagonian for immediate publication. The publishing company bigwigs, as they like to see themselves, most especially if they were considerable shareholders, had visions of dancing dollar signs. ...

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CONTRADICTION: SAVAGE WAR,
THEN A KIND OF PEACE

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… When Timothy discovered that Nick had not written Kid Patagonian (or Awakenings, as he later learned), he confronted Nick while they were seated at one of Bubba’s Sulky Lounge’s decaying tables.

“The reality is, Nick…” Timothy briefly stopped for another sip of God’s heavenly elixir before continuing with his direct accusation. “You simply did not write that brilliant manuscript titled Kid Patagonian.”

Timothy was dead-on correct.

In JD … neat, Timothy explained that he was half sure that Scare the Idiot (an idiot savant) was the true genius who wrote Kid Patagonian. “But as Scarce could not speak—or was incapable of speaking—I decided to go along with this scam anyway.”

One of the first things Timothy did was change Nikifor Dzerzhinskaya’s name to Jack Daniels. And, as Timothy wrote in JD … neat, “Take Nick under my wing and thoroughly re-educate him so that this incredible bumpkin has a chance to win. In other words, I would play Professor Higgins and Nick would be my Liza Doolittle (albeit the male version). Like I said before, we humans are all actors, and it would be enjoyable fun to fool all the fools.” …

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THE RISE THEN DRAMATIC FALL

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… Kid Patagonian was a runaway hit, a veritable overnight sensation. The sales figures leaped off the charts. Nick’s sophomore work, Awakenings, was so successful that Harvey Haddad, USA Today’s book critic, compared the sales “to the 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 stars that make up our universe.”
And the fans’ reaction?
“Mr. Jack Daniels’ fans went totally crazy,” Haddad continued. “It was if JD had suddenly become a God-like being. Some of his fans, in fact, even believed JD was the real God incarnate.”
However, all false gods invariably take a hard fall. …

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ADMIRABLY, NICK EATS THE LIE

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… In Berlin, Germany, Nick became totally honest and wrote his own book, entitled Legitimate Finally and subtitled The Honest Confessions of Jack Daniels, Who Never Existed At All. In this book, he confessed that he’d stolen both Kid Patagonian and Awakenings; and courageously confirmed that both books had been written by Scarce the Idiot.
Haddad was particularly direct when he asked McManus, “But why would you allow that enormous fraud to exist and prosper?”
Timothy quickly shrugged.
“As I see it, Harv, Scarce and Nick were like two halves that form an absolute whole. Moreover, I was so overwhelmingly impressed by the sheer brilliance of both Kid Patagonian and Awakenings that I wanted these inspired books out on the streets to finally answer some of the extremely important questions we all have.” Timothy religiously observed his treasured glass of God’s redemption. “I suspect, however, it will take a long period before that reality becomes a common reality of all.” …

This clever rabbit heard Timothy McManus say, "A similar life like the younger (no rudeness intended) Hugh Heffner, most desired please."

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RELAXING IN THE BREEZE
POOLSIDE BAR

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... Timothy currently lives in a swank condominium on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village, New York City, not far from the Breeze Poolside Bar, whose not-so-humble proprietor is the ultra-jazz singer/composer Frankie Sinatra IV. As this bio writer would soon learn, Timothy always refers to this hallowed location as “God’s comfy little Paradiso.”

Timothy stands primed and ready for book signings, lively fireside chats, and even listening (for the right fee) to the ranting of crazed fans. Most especially, though, he never rejects an invitation to spend a full night at Hugh Hefner’s most current Playboy Mansion.[1]

That happily said …

The big question, of course, is whether there be more clever books down the road. Timothy plays it cool, making no promises. However, having set the literary world on fire more than once now, the smart money would be to give a hearty thumbs up and “happy spirituous cheers to all!”. ...

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[1] Sadly, Hugh Hefner’s life came to an end and his blessed “daddy” never again rose to the heights of sexual glory.

—image credit photographer via Google

This clever rabbit heard Timothy McManus say, "A similar life like the younger (no rudeness intended) Hugh Heffner, most desired please."

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