Who knew that the simple act of being asked to write a bio for an amateur production of “I Claudius” (in Patchogue, Long Island in his 2nd cousin’s basement) would end so badly. Stamas Bro Homer starts his short biography for the homemade playbill with the line “I’m Stamas Bro Homer of the famous Stamas Bros…”
The program was being put together by his 2nd cousin’s mother and when Stamas Bro Homer hands in his info to her, she adjusts her spectacles and reads out loud:
“I’m Stamas Bro Homer of the famous Stamas Bros.”
The mom lowers the piece of paper that she is reading from and exclaims “I’ve never heard of the Stamas Bros. Who are they?”
Stamas Bro Homer at first tries to laugh it off.
“Oh come now Mrs. parent of my 2nd cousin, surely you jest. THE Stamas Bros, you’re telling me you’ve never heard of THE FAMOUS Stamas Bros who live 3,000 miles apart? One bro in Inwood, NYC and the other bro in North Fork near Fresno?”
“Never heard of them.”
Stamas Bro Homer grabs his neck as he starts to gag.
“Water. I need Wa…”
Suddenly he falls to the floor and goes unconscious.
When Bro H. wakes up, he find himself wrapped in a blanket in a hospital bed. There is an open laptop computer on the side table. No one other than Stamas Bro Homer is in the room, but Stamas Bro Aristotle’s face is seen on the laptop screen via remote video. He has a look of concern.
“Feeling better buddy?”
“Where am I?”
“You’re in the er…you’re in the hospital.”
“How did your yoga camp go?”
“Pretty well. Eight of ten of my students achieved everlasting inner peace. The two who didn’t were hyper on processed sugar. I tried having them drink some wheat grass juice but they refused. They said that if they couldn’t both eat sweets and achieve a state of enlightenment at the same time, then they didn’t need that tired old nirvana. I reminded them it wasn’t a nirva seminar but rather an inner peace one, but by that time they had left in search of more confections.”
Suddenly Stamas Bro Homer looks at a nearby clock.
“Oh my goodness. I have to get out to Patchogue right away. I’m in “I Claudius” tonight. I’m playing the dual role of Quintus Justus and the Guard. It’s really stretching me as an artist. We’re holding scripts in the performance so our instruments can be free. I’ve been practicing in front of the mirror and experimenting with playing Quintus with a cockney accent. Though tonight I think I’ll try out a Southern drawl.
H starts speaking with a Southern accent.
“What am I to do?”
Then he switches to a cockney accent.
“Ello, gov’nor, what am I to do?”
He looks toward Stamas Bro Aristotle on the laptop screen.
“Which do you like better?”
“Sorry bro, I have to run. Gotta do a coaching session.”
Bro Aristotle steps away and is no longer seen on the computer screen.
Stamas Bro Homer, alone on the bed, sits up. He looks around at the empty room. He then peers down and as they blanket falls off of him, noticing for the first time that he is in a straight jacket. He begins to rant.
“The Stamas Bros ARE famous! They’ve got THREE search engine results on the FIRST PAGE for the keword “Stamas Bros.” They’re on the first page I tell you! On the first page!”
FIN