Mr. Jackknife was a regular Jack, doing dirty jobs in a Japanese factory. Everybody who knew him knew him to be a jolly good fella. And Mr. Jackknife was–until his daughter, fair Jackie, came along.
See, Mr. Jackknife was indeed a jolly good fella even before he moved his family on a jet to Japan. He was a jeweler in his homeland, respected by every average Joe. For Mr. Jackknife was always giving, jovially giving his money to every average Joe. And so every average Joe was jam-packed in debt with Mr. Jackknife. But he didn’t mind as long as he pleased Jesus in his heart. And everything would have been all right until his daughter, fair Jackie, came along.
‘Cause Mr. Jackknife was a jack of all trades but he was best in giving and pleasing Jesus in his heart. Jolly as he was however, everyone would jump in fear whenever he’s jittery mad. For the truth was that no one could really jest at Jackknife since he could hire just about anybody to do what’s bloody just. And to this jack of all trades, only Jesus was the judge.
But there was Jackie.
Jackie used to be the joy of the family for she was the fairest among the babies. So baby Jackie turned into a lady, and, as was expected, became the fairest among the ladies. Oh, you’ll never guess how many John, Jacob and Jude fell in deep love for this gem of a woman named Jackie.
But fair Jackie had the heart of a free jay, always seeking the bluest skies for the most joyful of joys. And so it was that fair Jackie, quite amusingly, fell in love with no John, Jacob or Jude–but with a bottle of gin that we all know can be really, really, really good.
To be fair with fair Jackie, no buddy of hers ever thought lesser of her. For Jackie was also jolly, jollier even than her dad the jeweler. And she was kinder than her dad, brainier than her dad, and the best friend most everyone had. So there was nothing wrong with Jackie, except we’d learn later, her judgemental daddy and her unstable mommy.
For Mr. Jackknife never approved of Jackie’s joy for gin. And she’d learn later he’d use that reason to justify a grave sin.
For Mr. Jackknife had always approved of Jackie’s looks. He always had her in his good books. ‘Til one day Jackie jumped out of her baby boots and into her lady’s shoes, and Mr. Jackknife felt something he never, ever should.
See, Mr. Jackknife was a jolly good fella but he felt a good jerk whenever Jackie sat with him on the sofa. And so it was that bad days like that slowly turned Jackknife into a jolly mad dad. To the bathroom he went in, from the bathroom he went out, mad Mr. Jackknife jacked off ’til his jizz sprayed out. But he said in his mad mind, “Except from this I am just. Except from this I am kind. And Jesus is my sole judge.”
In June when Mrs. Jackknife went to her neighbor Jade, she left her husband alone in their home. Jackie came knocking, quite drunk from the gin and Jackknife opened the door, drool dripping down his chin. Poor Jackie almost lost it when jiggly Jackknife ripped off her pyjamas, jagged teeth bared in thumping desire. He said, “Jackie, just let your old man do it in front of you tonight for my body is aching with thumping desire.” Jackie fled crying, wailing into the night. How could her daddy do it? The one everybody admired? She ran into Mrs. Jackknife fresh from gossip from neighbor Jade and told her what happened, why she’s afraid.
Mrs. Jackknife couldn’t believe it. How dare Jackie tell her all this? She’s bound to jettison the family’s name they tried so hard to build! So Mrs. Jackknife listened instead to his mad husband never noticing the drool on his chin. And that night, she told Jackie, “Your dad was right! This is all your fault for drinking gin!”
June passed. July came, and so did Mr. Jackknife in every bathroom of shame. January arrived with the jet landing in Japan.
Mr. Jackknife applied in a Japanese factory. He was given a lot of jack for being a janitor and a jackhammer operator. But Jackknife’s madness slowly consumed him for he was used to the jolly life of a jeweler where every average Joe respected him.
So one October evening in Japan, when Jack o’ lanterns were lit everywhere in the night, our jaded family was shut in their hole tight. Just then, Jackie screamed at his old mad dad. “Fuck you, you criminal! You jack off to your own daughter! I don’t believe in you anymore and I want your head on a platter!”
Mrs. Jackknife didn’t know what to do, what was just and unjust. It was just unfair that their jaunty name was about to be jettisoned in the distant land of Japs. As Mr. Jackknife’s and Jackie’s jarring screams tore the night apart, Mrs. Jackknife crumbled down in a corner, all hopes of her gone.
Upon seeing his wife turn to jelly in the corner, Mr. Jackknife totally lost his marbles and headed for the drawer. There hid the jackknife used to rip through the Jack o’ lanterns, and he dashed to Jackie and ripped through her face so fair. Blood sprayed all over his face, so reminiscent of his bathroom days. All the joys of years emptied out as lanterns joked and laughed at the juggernaut from hell. It was clear through all the blood and tears, she was no daughter to him as he was no father to her.
October passed. July came, and so did Mr. Jackknife into a jail of shame.
Today, you’ll still see Mr. Jackknife, a regular jailbird Jack. He’s doing dirty jobs in a Japanese penitentiary. Everybody who knew him knew him to be a jolly good fella–before her fair daughter Jackie was sent forth by Jesus to judge him forever.