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Bill for Short

by Jake Mohamed


Hello. My name is William Harris Higglebottom. Some people call me Bill for short. But I correct them because my name is William Harris Higglebottom. I live in a small, two-bedroom house in the suburbs of New Mexico. Not Old Mexico. I’m not quite sure where Old Mexico actually went. Or how we got a New Mexico, but ours doesn’t contain many Mexicans. That just doesn’t seem right to me. If we’re getting the newer version of Mexico, then we should also get newer versions of their natives with the land. I think that is a terrible flaw about New Mexico, USA. We don’t actually have anything new about Mexico in our state. We are liars. Aside from being Mexican, I live on my own. Yet I still own a two-bedroom house. I don’t really talk about it.

Three weeks ago, I was out talking to my friend. His name is Brandon. He enjoys various soups. During the conversation, Brandon referred to me as Bill. I corrected him. I said, “Brandon, you know my name is not Bill. It is William Harris Higglebottom.” He apologized and referred to me as William Harris Higglebottom. That is the correct thing to do, as my name is William Harris Higglebottom. Because Brandon offended me by calling me Bill, I poisoned his wife. She has three days before hospitalization is necessary, Brandon.

About a week later, I went to Starbucks to get a coffee. The man behind the register asked for my name and I told him it is William Harris Higglebottom. He asked me to repeat myself, so I said “My name is William Harris Higglebottom.” He looked at me and said “I’m gonna write down Bill for short,” and then he winked at me. I told him no. He must write William Harris Higglebottom, for that is my name. Finally, he yielded. After I drank my delicious, overpriced, and poorly tasting coffee, I found the barista’s car parked in the employee lot. I slashed his tires and destroyed the paint job. He did not call me the correct name. My name is William Harris Higglebottom.

I was eating at my third favorite restaurant the other day. After I was done eating, they gave me the bill. I cannot tell you how infuriated I was. Me. William Harris Higglebottom. Getting a bill. Naturally, I paid what I owed to the establishment and gave a 20% tip to the lovely waitress that served me, and then of course I used my connections to the CIA to have them order a drone strike on that restaurant within the next two hours. I do not know why they gave me, William Harris Higglebottom, a bill. My name is William Harris Higglebottom. Do not call me Bill for short.


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