what is pussy galore, alex?

what is pussy galore, alex?
by C. Barry Slough

Charles Montford. Age: 47. Profession: Plumber. Primary aspiration: To make Alex Trebek look like a goddamn idiot on his own gameshow. While Charles is not what you would call an educated man in the classical sense, he is a veritable Library of Alexandria when it comes to trivial factoids and the like. He is single, lives in a 2 room apartment above a liquor store, and has no hobbies aside from reading books and watching Jeopardy every single night at 6:30. He even tapes the show in order to review it more than once, just to make sure he absorbs every tidbit in a correct and permanent fashion. And then he tests his ability to recall by quizzing himself during the day as he unstops kitchen sinks and scoops shit out of bathtubs.

His wherewithal paid off handsomely though, and he became the Jeopardy champion for four days running, winning a total of $86,001, and some ginsu knives, which an opponent, (who placed second runner-up on day 4), refused to keep, as it was beneath her... Or so she said. Charles needed some new knives, so he gladly accepted them from the studio manager on the way back to his hotel. He had one day left on the show, and his dream of many, many years was about to come true.

He couldn't remember when or where it was that he began to hate Alex Trebek with such fervent passion. But to him it seemed like forever. Anytime he saw the man's face, heard his voice, or came across an object which in some abstract way would remind him of his nemesis, his insides would churn and sputter, and he would slowly grind his teeth. "He's just so damn smug about it all," was the explanation he gave to his sister when she first visited his apartment and became aware of his consuming obsession. "If he didn't have the answers in front of him he wouldn't know shit from sandpaper..."

His sister had made many vain attempts to break the spell cast on her brother, but all to no avail. She would set him up with various friends of hers from work, but instead of going out to dinner and a movie, Charles would insist that they stay home and watch Jeopardy. And his sister's friend would be forced sit there amidst stacks of world almanacs, novels, history and science texts, watching Charles explode in animated and violent outbursts where his face would turn vermilion, and he would pepper the TV with spittle as he screamed things like; "You greasy canuck sonofabitch! Of course the answer was mitochondria but you wouldn't have known it if it weren't for the index cards in front of your ugly fucking gob!" Needless to say no woman ever visited him more than once, and he didn't care a lick.

The hardest thing was keeping himself under control during those first four days of his championship stint. When he first met Alex in person, he almost wrapped his sturdy paws around the man's make-up coated neck. But instead, he shook his hand, and smiled, and pretended to be a big fan -- remembering that he had worked for years to get this chance and he shouldn't blow it by doing something dumb. "This is going to be so sweet," he thought as he gripped the host's flimsy hand. "I'm going to make you squirm like the jellyfish that you are, Alex."

Day five. Charles was so excited that he hadn't slept at all during the previous night. He just sat up and played with his new ginsu knives, using them to saw through various artifacts in his hotel room. First he cut through the towel rack, then he put an inch deep trough in the metal box containing the air conditioning unit, then he sawed through the lock bolting the TV remote to the nightstand, and then he cut all four legs off of the bed. He was amazed at the quality of his new cutlery and couldn't wait to take it home to see if it would still slice a tomato with the surgical precision advertised on the box. When morning rolled around glowing mango in the East he went downstairs and ate half-a-dozen fried eggs splashed heavy with tobasco, and four mugs of coffee, black.

"Hey there champ. You ready to make it five straight?"

"Absolutely Mr. Trebek. Absolutely."

"Good to hear. You've been an outstanding contestant and we're looking forward to having you back for the Tournament of Champions, provided you win today. But the way you've handled yourself this week I've got a feeling we'll be seeing you again," with that he gave Charles a wink, and Charles turned to stifle a laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking of a joke I heard the other day, that's all."

"Oh, well you best get to the dressing room now."

Today he was facing an overweight stock broker from Dallas, and a housewife from Hoboken who looked to be heavy into the diet pills. They looked funny standing there next to each other... Like a chihuahua and a heat-bloated ox. Charles could barely control himself as they did the brief introduction of the contestants prior to the first round of questions. Charles, being the reigning champ got first pick;

"I'll take Astronomy for 100, Alex."

"The more common name for a quasi-stellar radio object."

*beep*

"Charles."

"What is Pussy Galore, Alex?"

"Um....No. Janice."

"What is a quasar?"

"Correct. Pick again Janice."

"I'll take Russian Literature for 500 please."

"Trying to get out in front early... An interesting tactic. And the answer is; The youngest brother in Dostoyevsky's The Brother's Karamozov."

*beep*

"Charles."

"What is Pussy Galore, Alex?"

"No. Anyone else? Janice? Doug? The answer is, of course, Alyosha. Or we would have accepted Alexey. Pussy Galore was, of course, a character in a James Bond film."

"Oh! stupid me! Of course of course of course..."

"O.K. Charles. It's still Janice's pick."

"Russian Lit for 100 please, Alex."

"Author of Lolita ."

*beep*

"Charles."

"What is Pussy Galore, Alex?"

"No Charles. That is again incorrect."

"As is your grammar, Alex"

"Uh... Doug?"

"Who was Tolstoy?"

"No. Janice?"

"Who was Nabokav?"

"Nabokav is correct for 100. Janice, pick again."

Before she has a chance to speak, the eggs, tobasco, and coffee all do a somersault inside of Charles' gut -- and he breaks wind like a shotgun, filling the air with a sticky sulfurous stench. Janice and Doug manage to maintain their composure while surreptitiously waving the smell away from their watering eyes.

"Let's try Foreign Flags for 100."

"The two animals on the Mexican flag."

*beep*

"Charles."

"What is Pussy Galore, Alex?"

"Of course not. Janice."

"What is a burro and.... um......."

"A burro! Oh for goddsakes.... Why don't you finish by saying a drunk in a sombrero, or a taco, you amero-centric imbecile!"

"Charles, it is not your turn and we will have to throw out that question because of your interference. The correct response is, of course, an eagle and a rattlesnake. Janice, please pick again."

"Uh...I'll try Flags for 200 Alex."

"Two countries other than the United States which have red, white, and blue flags."

*beep*

"Charles."

"What is Pussy Galore, Alex."

Several people in the audience laugh out loud, and Alex gives them a stern look.

"No, that is incorrect. Doug."

"What is England and Australia?"

"Correct. France is also correct."

"So is New Zealand Alex."

"I was just about to say New Zealand. Thank you Charles."

"Oh no Alex, thank you."

"O.K...Time for a commercial break. We've got a low scoring match so far. Doug has the lead at 100, Janice is right behind him at 0, and our reigning champion, Charles Montford has a surprising deficit of 1000. We'll be right back after these messages."

Alex strode over to Charles in a haughty and displeased manner.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing? We're going to have to edit the hell out of this episode because of your clowning around. Now straighten up and fly right or you're going to be kicked out of here."

"I'm sorry Mr. Trebek. I don't know what's gotten in to me. But here's an answer for you, try and guess the question; A nine letter word describing a bootlicking yes- man."

"???"

"Don't know? What is obsequies, Alex. Obsequies. You're not too bright without your little cards are you."

"Now you listen to me. I-"

"On in five seconds. Four... Three... Two... Go!"

"Welcome back. Let's get to know our contestants a little better, shall we?...." Charles was enjoying himself immensely. He watched Alex make infantile small talk with the chihuahua and the ox.

"Yes I did meet Candice Bergen one time. I was sitting at a bar by myself, and I looked up, and there she was with two friends. I said, 'Hey, you're Candice Bergen, right?' and she says, 'Uh huh.' Then she says to her friends, 'Lets get the hell out of here.' I was really excited, because I'm a huge fan of hers."

"Yes I do collect childrens clothes Alex. I have something like seven-hundred-and- fifty complete outfits. And since I don't have any children, they've stayed in mint condition throughout the years."

Then it was Charles' turn. You could see the apprehension in Alex's eyes as he approached the champion.

".....winning a total of $86,001. It says here that you're a plumber."

"That's right Alex."

"Not the most appealing job from what I hear."

"No, but you only have 3 things to remember; Shit flows downhill, payday is on Friday, and don't ever chew your nails," the audience roared at this comment. "And I'd like to say 'hi' to my sister back in Regal Junction."

"O.K... All very interesting. Let's get back to the game, shall we?"

For the remainder of the round, Charles was the first to buzz in on every question, and each time he gave the same response;

"What is pussy galore, Alex?"

And Mr. Trebek became more and more discombobulated as the round wore on.

The audience, on the other hand, couldn't get enough of Charles antics. He continued to fart, belch, interrupt, and be a completely irreverent loudmouth whenever he felt the urge. A dozen questions were thrown out due to his outbursts, and it became apparent that this episode would never be shown on the air. Because of this, the audience felt like they were being treated to a rare event which would be passed on at a later date as something akin to an urban legend;

"My mom was in the audience of Jeopardy once and this contestant just flipped out and wouldn't say anything but "pussy galore" over and over again until Alex Trebek went over and slapped him!"

"Audience, please don't encourage him. This is a complete disgrace, but we have to finish the game."

"Fuck you Alex!" came the call from an audience member. "Put down your cards and let's see how smart you really are!" Cheers and hoots and hollers. "Your French accent is so beautiful Alex! Say something in French for us! Ha hahahaha!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha!"

Charles was quite pleased. With the audience on his side there was no way they could kick him off before Final Jeopardy. He clapped and whistled and thanked the entire group of people sitting and standing in the auditorium. They clapped and whistled back.

Going into Double Jeopardy, Charles was down by thousands of dollars, and the atmosphere in the studio audience was that of a monster truck rally. Alex looked as though he wanted to cut his own throat, and Charles was beaming like a proud new father.

"O.K. Charles. Since you're in last place you get first pick in Double Jeopardy. Maybe you can do some catching up here."

"I'd like Women in Film for 1000, Alex."

"Honor Blackman's famous Femme Fatale in Goldfinger."

"What is Pussy Galore, Alex?"

"That's correct! " The audience explodes. "Pick again Charles."

"I'll take modern science for 1000, Alex."

"These theoretical particles are said to travel faster than light, and therefore backwards in time."

*beep*

"Charles."

"What is Pussy Galore, Alex?"

"That was the last answer, Charles," He took his index cards and rapped them angrily on the podium. "Janice? Doug?" They were both too stunned at this point to do much of anything except stand and shake their heads. "The correct response is, of course, tachyons."

Charles continued living out his dream, and by the time Final Jeopardy rolled around, he was over 20,000 in the hole.

"I hope you're happy with yourself, Mr. Montford," Alex sneered as they led Charles off the stage amidst much cheering.

"Damn straight! I made $86,001 in four days, and I played you for the pompous and ignorant asshole that you are... And all these people were witness to it. Thank you! Thank you all!"

"Whooooooooooooo! WhooooooooooooooooooooooHooooooooooo! Right on Charles! WhoooooooooHoooooooooooo! You're a tool Alex! Give us the cards!" The audience rushed the stage, grabbed Charles, and carried him off as though he were the coach of a world-champion team. Someone threw a wad of wet toilet paper at Alex, and hit him square in the chest. Others ran up and spat at him. "Give us the cards! Give us the cards!" Three young men and a girl of twelve knocked over the podium, sending index cards cascading across the stage. Then a woman of rather ample girth charged straight into him, knocking him on his back. She then went down on top of him, and he disappeared beneath a waterfall of wet kisses and tent-sized skirts and slips. Cheers. More cheers. The studio was a seething mass of bodies. Doug and Janice were motionless, afraid to even look at one another. Charles was carried into the street where the mob placed him on top of a taxi.

"Speech! Speech! Speech!" Two hundred people had surrounded the yellow-cab in order to hear their hero wax philosophic about his unanimous victory.

"I only have one thing I want to say, and here it is; One!... Two!... Three!... Four!.... What... Is... Pussy Galore!" And the crowd roared, and joined in, chanting and marching on Burbank en masse;

"ONE!... TWO!... THREE!... FOUR!... WHAT... IS... PUSSY GALORE! ONE!... TWO!... THREE!... FOUR!... WHAT... IS... PUSSY GALORE! ONE!... TWO!... THREE!.... FOUR!..."