elvis eats

by colin d fox

The tall stocky slightly tanned man in the ill-fitting suit led the small black lady through the curtain partition and into the rear cabin where the light of her life sat on a sumptuous couch strumming a guitar whilst his buddies sat at a nearby table playing cards and occasionally hooting and hollering. Elvis would cast a grin over at the boys- his 'Memphis Mafia' who would ' tcb' as their shared tattoos informed you.

' Martha, darlin!' Elvis's face lit up as Martha entered the cabin, putting her laden down tray on the space that Elvis had rapidly created for her on his table in front of the couch. Martha went to leave but Elvi wasn't havign any of it. ' No way, Ms Martha!' he grinned, flashing her that movie-star smile. He held her arm until Bobby-Joe had fetched her a chair. Elvis scolded him, throwing a cushion embroidered ' EP' at the small man's head. ' Man, look at you; acting like a damned fool. Oughtta remember your manners there next time, boy.' Elvis shook his head. ' Sorry, Ms Martha' he smiled at her again. ' Sometimes, I swear, ma'am, these fellas misbehave if the Lord himself and all his choirs of angels came down and asked them directions! ' The boys roared laughter at that one.

' Oh, Mr.Elvis, you are a caution, Lord knows you are, oh yes, a caution. ' Martha chuckled at Elvis's comments adn his obvious real affection he held for his constant companion, his personal cook supreme. Elvis
clapped his hands for attention. ' Lissen here fellahs. This here is a national treasure. This seeet lil' lady is worth 200 regular cooks' A cheer went up. Martha pooh-poohed Elvis but her smile lit up like nothing else on Earth with pride. Elvis uncovered the dishes. With each new treat revealed, his smile grew bigger. ' Oh man!' , ' Dayum!' , ' Oh Lord' , ' Oh, be still my beating stomach!'

' Peanut butter and banana, fried till golden brown. ' Elvis turned and hugged the tiny fragile looking lady. ' mah favorite. you;re the best, Martha. the absolute best'