The Book of Leon
HE AIN’T WRONG . . . HE JUST AIN’T RIGHT
Whoever you are and whatever your reasons, clearly you made the right damn decision to sit your ass down and read the most important book of your life! So, since you’re here, let’s begin.
You’re about to read a whole lot of shit in this book, and trust me, this knowledge isn’t for all of you, but I know for a fact that some of you will get what I’m talking about. “Who are those people?” you ask. If you have to ask, then it ain’t you, because those people know who the fuck they are!!!
Now, people have different ideas on where and how to start a story. Some people like to start in the middle by saying some shit that sounds weird because you don’t know what the fuck came before it. The problem with that is that if you don’t know where the fuck you’ve been, you’re gonna have a hard time figuring out where the hell you’re going. Other, more creative people like to start shit toward the end, then jump to the beginning and then wrap back around to the end again. You know what I’m talking about? It’s what they do in every movie about a singer. Movies about people like Ray Charles, James Brown, and—just so you don’t think I only watch movies about black people—Johnny Cash. All of those movies always start with a dude looking tired and old as fuck. Like we’re catching him a day
and a half before he dies. He’s always sitting somewhere reflecting on his life as he stares at something like a clock or a glass of water or some shit. All of a sudden everything goes black for a second, and then across the screen we see the name of some tiny ass town like “Broken Foot, Alabama,” or “Chipped Tooth, Tennessee,” and a date from years ago. At this point, we know we are in a flashback, so we are treated to bits of that man’s tragic ass life, complete with all his fuck-ups. And then, like a flash, we see him old again. That’s what we see, but the part that we don’t get to see is that old ass man sitting there staring at a glass of water for two hours while people tap the fuck out of him to get him to snap out of it. That’s a movie I would like to see: the day James Brown’s concerned friends tapped the shit out of his shoulder for two damn hours. “James . . . James . . . James!”
Anyway, while I like that way of telling a story—I mean, they did that shit in Pulp Fiction too! I loved that movie! Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta! Playing hit men! Who the fuck doesn’t like Pulp Fiction? Besides I’m not trying to tell you my life’s story. I mean, I will be telling you some shit from my life, but not tragic shit and not for entertainment’s sake. I don’t need you judging my life. What the fuck do I look like?! Huh? What I share is for you to learn from, not to mock!
Look, I’ma tell you right now, I know a little about everything but not a whole lot about anything, so get from this book what you need and don’t complain to me about shit!