Storytime With Ricky, The NYC Vice Cop Sock Puppet

A fractured fairy tale for transgendered adults:

There once lived a King named Gurl. At his birth, thousands of starfish washed ashore in neon colors of all shapes and sizes. An army of a billion ants collected bark from the most valuable, fruit-bearing trees in his honor. Twenty of the world's largest mosquitoes were sent to carry the news of his arrival.

Trumpet vines were rained upon, to re-seed the chain link fence next to his teenaged mother's apartment in the barrio. The electric company had rolling blackouts during his first summer, to commemorate the first taste of royal honeysuckle nectar. He was assigned the King of Convicts. His cell was the size of a king-sized bed, where he'd left a roll of tissue paper, still in its wrapper, and a Barbie doll with a paper wedding dress, attached with old postage stamps.

King Gurl had a child at age 37, after he became a paralegal at George Mason University. He freely cursed at the sky, and prayed that all illegal aliens would be citizens, unlike his father, a migrant orange-picker, who died a truck owner, with permanent resident status. On every fourth of July, King Gurl celebrated his birthday. His face looked like the American flag, and he was proud to be the King of New Chork.

Royal Duties For The King Gurl Of New Chork:

1. Always have a Puerto Rican accent, and attend Catholic Mass every three years, or so.

2. Wear clothing from a Native American trading post or reservation.

3. Jewelry should confuse everyone. An African ring should be engraved in Hebrew, by an Italian-American artisan in NYC.

4. Accents should change. Kings of New Chork often have a French accent in Miami, and a Spanglish accent during the work week.

5. Construction hats are frequently brought to funerals. It is rude not to bring one, even if a woman, to honor the King Gurl of New Chork.