April 15 - Haiku Hustler

"Tell me how it works again."
"It's simple. You give me a topic and I come up with a haiku about it. Five syllables, seven syllables, five syllables. If I can do it in 30 seconds or less, you give me five dollars. If I can't, I give you ten."
"Any topic?"
"Any topic. And you can keep on going double or nothing until I lose, just as long as you show me the money up front."
He looked at his girlfriend. She shrugged as if to say, It's up to you.
"OK, you're on. Who keeps the time?"
"Doesn't matter. How about your girl. You got a watch?"
She did and she started the 30 seconds as soon as her boyfriend gave him the first topic: Tiger Woods.
Twenty seconds later, the haiku hustler was ready:

Advice for Tiger:
Next time you're tempted by sex?
Dude, just DON'T do it

A small group of onlookers clapped and the hustler smiled.
"You wanna try double or nothing?"
He did. After consulting with his girlfriend, they decided on the next topic: Sarah Palin.
The hustler mulled it over for a while, but nowhere near 30 seconds:

Loopy right wing MILF
Talking loud, saying nothing
How's she still around?

The audience, which was bigger now, cheered.
"What's next?"
He thought about it for a minute and then his eyes lit up. He said, "OK, how about the DVD release of Avatar."
"What?"
"The DVD release of Avatar."
His girlfriend looked at him like he was crazy. He whispered to her, "I got him. Avatar and DVD both have three syllables. He'll never be able to do it in a 5-7-5 format, no way."
And yet 26 seconds later:

Avatar at home
Deleted scenes: Na'vi sex
Must-buy DVD

By now, the audience was a small crowd and they loved it, but the boyfriend wasn't smiling anymore.
"You done yet?"
"I don't know. What are we up to?"
"You're in for 20 bucks."
"Jesus," he muttered. His girlfriend looked nervous.
"So, is that it then?"
"No. Hold on. OK, I got it. The nuclear non-proliferation treaty."
His girlfriend started her watch and he looked back and forth between the hustler and her watch's second hand, willing it to hurry up. At 19 seconds he was ready:

Stop spreading the nukes
So we can give peace a chance
That's all we're saying

The crowd was especially dazzled when he sang the first five syllables like the opening line of New York, New York and the other two lines like the Lennon/Ono song. Even his girlfriend laughed.
"That's forty bucks, man. You done yet?"
He wasn't looking at him anymore. He shook his head in disbelief.
"Come on. Let's just go," his girlfriend said.
"Yeah, you better listen to your girl, man."
"No, wait." There had to be something he wasn't familiar with. "OK, I've got it. Shakespeare's sonnets."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Go." And then to his girlfriend he added, "Start the time. Start it."
The hustler scratched his chin and smiled:

Poetic verses
Avon's bard penned scores of them
Each one fourteen lines

The crowd cheered enthusiastically, especially the lit geeks.
"You're fucking kidding me," he said, but nobody heard him over the cheers.
"That's 80 bucks, man. We done yet?"
"Wait."
"Because I can go all day. I'm just worried about you."
"I said wait." He whispered to his girlfriend and she shook her head. They went back and forth like that for close to a minute.
"We done, right?"
"No. One more."
"All right, but we're up to 160."
"Whoah, 160? No, 80!"
"We're at 80 now. You lose this one, we're up to 160."
He rechecked his wallet.
"I only have 130."
"Well then, I would say we're done."
"Come on, man. Give me a break. I have 130. That's close."
"What else you got?"
"What else? Come on, I've got 130 bucks."
"Yes, which makes you 30 bucks shy. Once again I ask you, what else you got?"
He looked over at his girlfriend who glared back and shook her head.
"That's it. Just 130."
"All right, man. I tell you what. This one'll be our last bet. You win, you keep your money. I win, I get your 130 bucks."
"Thank you. Now--"
"Hold on. I ain't told you the bet yet."
"Yeah, you did. I win, I keep--"
"Yeah, I know. Those are the stakes. But here's the bet. I give you the topic and you've got one minute to come up with a haiku."
"Man, I--"
"Or you can just give me my 80 bucks right now."
"But, I'm not you. I can't just come up with a haiku like that."
"I ain't gonna stump you on the topic. Don't worry. I'll give you something easy, I promise."
He thought about it and agreed. The topic was his girlfriend.
The clock started ticking. Everyone's eyes were on him. He looked distracted, like he was trying to remember where he'd put his keys. His girlfriend watched him. Her expression couldn't have been described as optimistic.
"All right, man. That's time. What you got?"
He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. He couldn't look at anyone.
"Nothing?" The hustler laughed. "Nothing? Ah man, that's cold. All right, all right. Tell you what. I'll spot you the first line. Hold on a second." He thought for a moment. "OK, here we go: 'Beautiful girlfriend.' Go on, man. That's all you."
He looked up at the haiku hustler and glared.
"Come on, man. Seven syllables about your lovely girlfriend. You can do that. No? OK, I'll spot you the second line, too. Um, 'Love her in so many ways.' Bam! There you go, man. Two lines down. Just come up with five more syllables about your girlfriend and you're home free."
He folded his arms and burned a hole in the hustler with his eyes.
"Last chance, man. No? Nothing? OK, here it is: 'Beautiful girlfriend. Love her in so many ways. But can't write haiku.'"
The crowd roared with laughter. "Better luck next time, man."
After a few seconds, she tugged on his arm to go and finally he did.
"Hey, man," said the hustler and then gave him a 'forgetting something?' look. The man handed him his cash and walked away.
"Thank you very much," he said putting his money in his wallet. "OK, who's next?"