Winner chooses luxurious amenities over expensive toys.
Lottery winner, Charles, âChucksterâ Knarfle, relaxes at the pool with cousin Melvin and their wait staff, Opal Von Bismark and Manfred Turlington.
By ROBIN LEECH
Senior Lifestyle Reporter
Lady Luck took a liking to local man Charles âChucksterâ Knarfle. For years he and his court-appointed ward, cousin Melvin, have pulled into the Chevron station to gas up his truck, load up on Twinkies and buy a lottery ticket (each ticket number is based on a favorite Dukes of Hazzard episode). After all this time, the only thing he has received is a nose full of gas fumes and Type II diabetes, but that all changed last Friday. Halfway through a dozen of the tubular sponge cakes, the winning lottery numbers splashed across the screen, followed closely by a mouth full of Twinkie. He matched all six numbers. Those Duke boys had saved the day again.
After the celebratory gunfire died away, Chuckster realized he had a decision to make. With the amount of money he won, he could either have fancy things or a fancy lifestyle, but not both. The decision was an easy one, Knarfle said. âIâd just get lost in a double-wide trailer. Besides, everyone I ever met whose home had more than two axles was too uppity for me. Then one-night cousin Melvin and I were watchinâ âDown Town Abnerâ, and it hit us like a case of RC cola, weâd get us a butler and a female butler,â he said.
After asking neighbors where to get good help and a thorough search of Craigslist, they thought they were stumped. Fortunately, they found a copy of âWealthâ magazine while shooting rats at the dump. A few want ads later, and the perfect house staff was hired.
Manfred Turlington is a third-generation butler whose father and grandfather worked their entire careers in the employment of the Rothschild family. The headmistress of the trailer is Opal Von Bismark. Opal boasts a domestic servant lineage going back to the Prussian Empire. She still owns a flintlock pistol given to her family by the royal House of Hohenzollern, the traditional rulers of Prussia. Legend has it her heir gave a Hohenzollern royal that very weapon in a duel which his Highness fortunately won.
While the transition from coupon clippers to Trailer Park Tsar has been easy for the Chuckster and cousin Melvin, the same canât be said for his staff.
âMaster Knarfle's monetary compensation is truly second to none, but the accommodations are less so,â Turlington states. âWith my previous employer, I was given my own apartment on the Rothschildâs estate. Under Master Knarfle's employment, Opal and I have bunk beds in the spare bedroom. With only one bathroom, the morning ablutions can be...awkward.â
According to Master Knarfle, Opal, much to her chagrin, has a tendency to âblow up the bathroom,â as it were, and he is quite vocal with his complaints. Also, he tends to leave the door open when using the lavatory. He reads the comics in a loud voice to the entire trailer. Apparently, Garfield can get up to some hilarious high jinks.
âI used to be a sommelier to some of the most influential people in the world, but now I can only bring a Sterling silver tray with quarts of Miller beer. I have informed him several times that the Champagne of Beer doesnât mean it is champagne, but he insists it isâ, Turlington said. âThen there are the nicknames. Mr. Rothschild always called me Mr. Turlington unless it was a private moment of levity when he would call me Manfred. Master Knarfle, on the other hand, has at various times called me Mr. T, T-Bone, or, to my dismay, Turdlington. The last one happens most often during a soirĂ©e with friends when many quarts of âchampagneâ have been consumed
âBut without question, my most odious duty is dealing with Melvin, or as most people call him behind his back, ET. It is my assumption that he is the result of centuries of inbreeding. He is a foul-tempered, odious gnome that spends most of the day on top of the refrigerator (the vibrations calm his nerves). He stares down at everyone like a Renaissance church gargoyle. Every Sunday, I must gird myself when itâs time to give him his weekly sponge bath.â
Things are no less difficult for Ms. Von Bismark. Early in her career, she spent three years learning to cook in the very prestigious Le Cordone Blue in Paris. Now the menu is somewhat limited. âBreakfast is always Fruit Loops, chitterlings, and grits with red-eye gravy and a side of bacon. Lunch is always pimento cheese sandwiches with fried okra and cornbread and a side of bacon. Dinner, however, has a bit of variety. It is either fried chicken, steak, or chicken-fried steak. If guests are expected, fried catfish with microwave burritos a la carte are provided â all with a side of bacon. Vienna sausage, however, must be no more than an armâs length away at all times.
While the meal preparations can be pedantic, the real frustration comes on Saturday when Ms. Von Bismark and Knarfleâs âLady Friendâ go shopping.
She explains, âFirst of all, âLady Friendâ insists we dress exactly the same in uncomfortable high-heel shoes, hot pants, and âCanât Touch Thisâ tube tops. We always park in the ârich people parkingâ as she calls it. I believe everyone else knows it as the handicap spot. The Dollar General Store is always happy to see us come and even happier to see us leave, having filled up two shopping carts for under $30.â
My interview with the house staff was conducted beneath a large velvet Elvis painting at a small table in a corner of the living room, and it was cut short by a commotion from the back of the trailer. A sweaty Chuckster and Lady Friend rushed into the living room, barely dressed.
âTurn on the Wheel!â He shouted as the pair flopped into matching recliners.
As if expecting it, Mr. Turlington withdrew the TV remote from his vest pocket and switched the channel to âWheel of Fortune.â Ms. Von Bismark exhaled in resignation, donned rubber gloves, grabbed a bottle of bleach, and trudged to the rear of the trailer. Turlington pushed a serving cart between the two, donned his white gloves, and cracked open two quarts of champagne. He gave a tight smile and took a deep breath as his employer angrily threw a Vienna sausage at Pat Sajakâs head.
It is not uncommon for people who suddenly come into great wealth to run through it at a breathtaking pace. World Wide Global News will check in with the Chuckster and gargoyle Melvin in the future to see how he fares.
WWGN
Love the names!!!