Ahh the romanticism of a crazed old Russian emigre
An anonymous tribute to Ayn Rand through parody - WendyMcElroy.com
"Who is John Goat?" Dallas turned away from the window and looked at the man in the seat beside her. He had got on at one of the stops outside New York City but she had not noticed him before now. He had a bald head that seemed to rest like an unused bowling ball atop a pillow of fat that had once been a neck. His eyes were pale and lifeless.
"Pardon me?"
"Who is John Goat?""I don't know. Besides, those words are just meaningless nonsense."
The man nodded dully. His nod seemed to reject the possibility of objective knowledge. Dallas turned back to the window and gazed out on the vast blank prairies. A lighted billboard flickered and her heart trembled with joy. She remember her thrill when, long ago, she first heard a radio commercial. Her brother had told her that bird songs were prettier but Francisco had laughed and said, "When I grow up I will make birds out of copper and sell them for money!" And the next day he had presented her with his first copper bird made from metal he had mined with his own hands.
"Does it know any songs," she had asked.
"Only radio commercials."And, then, they had made love.
"Pardon me Miss." It was the bald man.
"Yes."
"My name is Waldo Mudge. What's yours?""Stank. Dallas Stank."
"Stank! The same Stank who runs the railroad?""Yes!" Dallas proudly threw back her head.
"You loathsome capitalist, I hate you! I abhor you! Don't look at me that way; you have no right! I give all my blood to the poor! Organs, too, when I have the chance. All I have left are three ribs and a testicle. Stop looking at me like that! I live for others, for love...something YOU would never understand!" He sneered hysterically.
"You're right, I wouldn't," she said.
She turned back to the window. Suddenly, she felt a rush of air go past her head. She turned around and gasped. Waldo Mudge had deflated.