it was 6pm, (18:00 if you're a douche bag) and the musical sounds on the tram were at their height. most notable was the youthful young man sitting at the front who was half muttering, half chanting to himself. it could barely be heard over the idle chit chat and the sniffling, the tram stop announcements and brakes. what he was repeating to himself was:
"co vas pryteli nocht von trizedi most breheli," which in english means, "what goes up must come down."
he was referring, of course, to the recent promotion of his arch nemesis, tim calhoun. they grew up in corn country -- mid-eastern kansas -- on rival farms. there wasn't much going on in their town -- bruno, kansas -- and their only form of entertainment was a battle, no so labyrinthine that it was impossible to understand, over the miniscule differences in the quality of the russet potatoes, the size and uniformity in shape and color of the autumn pumpkins, the length of the ears of corn. tim calhoun was always winning this battle.
but not anymore.
"pristi stanice - rahska zahrada" the tram proudly announced.
continuing to mumble, the man hobbled to the doors of the tram and exited. as he made his way to the five-star hotel pramen, he stopped into one of the many vietnamese vegetable stands.
"i've got it! i know how to defeat tim calhoun. i'm going to hire me some czech-speaking, vietnamese produce sellers and bring them back to bruno, kansas. those honkies won't have shit on my potraviny!"
and off he went, mumbling about his great ideas. and with his array of fruit, liquor and cigs he made a damn good business and eventually expanded to a fish and tackles shop and car wash.
you go, brother, you go.