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I’m wearing a dead man’s belt. Don’t know his name. Feels like I should though.
My only belt vanished a few weeks ago. Been meaning to buy a new one - but you know, priorities.
Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit, or maybe he’s just tired of my ass peeking out the top of my jeans, but Fancy Dan handed me a belt on Tuesday. It’s nice. A dark, thick, worn leather with strong stitching.
A friend of his friend recently passed away, and those worldly possessions were scattered to the 4 corners of the earth - including this belt. It made a brief stop in Dan’s closet before finally landing on my person. I wonder about how old it is, where it’s been, and yah - the guy who wore it.
I figure there’s enough people to remember the original belt guy’s name, but selfishly - I like not knowing. It could be anyone, who did anything - anywhere. In a weird way, it makes me want to step up my own game. This belt could have seen some crazy shit, so I better keep things interesting - right?
We gotta have at least one solid adventure together before going our separate ways.
Yah… what if we made it a thing? Typing as I think, so bear with me, but what if the belt was passed from MB to MB.
There was a chick-flick in the early 2000’s about traveling pants. I didn’t see the movie, but trailers give away the plot, and I’m going to assume this is a similar idea.
We’d have some simple rules, but basically every Magnificent Bastard that receives the belt must take it on an adventure before passing it on to the next, MB - who does the same.
Brotherhood of The Dead Man’s Belt.
Wear it while doing something you’ll remember on your deathbed - then pass it on.
~ The Magnificent Bastard
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