This story the Yid told the Mick one evening as they sat at the dining room table in the Mick’s house and reminisced after a rather copious meal.
It’s late in the afternoon. The Gestapo will be up shortly. They’ll sit with tante Rachel and the rest of the family at the dining room table drinking hot tea from tall glasses with slices of lemon floating in the tea, and they’ll nibble little pieces of gâteau. Their uniforms will be black, neat and slick, with Gestapo symbols sewn on the sleeves. Their big black Mercedes-Benz will be parked in front of the house. After they finish the gâteau, they’ll unbutton their jackets to show us their SS tattoos, then they’ll pull their revolvers out of their black holsters, aim them at us and shoot. The half-empty glasses of tea will shimmer on the table before toppling over and the tea will get mixed with the blood of my family and drip from the table onto the oriental carpet. Me I will observe all this because I will be hiding under the dining room table, and that’s why I can tell you this story now, my dear friend, because you see they didn’t see me hiding under the table, picking up the crumbs of the gâteau.
The Mick listened closely as the Yid revealed this story. After a considerable period of silence, it was the Mick’s turn to speak. He began: It is late in the afternoon. The Gestapo will be up shortly …