Read aloud to maximize the effect
Bubblehead was the name his mother, Beatrice blurted behind his back, when she boasted about Bernard’s badges for being the best bookbinder in Boston. He had a backlog of big-league writers, who believed that their buddy Bernard was the top banana in the binding business. His barstool, in his favorite bistro, had been bronzed by his benefactors, and Billy the barkeep dispensed the Bourbon and branch water at bargain prices on his behalf. When Bernard was on a binge, the biographers and the bipartisan began to believe the bureaucrats, who bar hopped on behalf of the barnstorming buccaneers. They bolted through the neighborhood backyards and barnyards, beating the bushes in search of the barmaids and busboys that were body guarding Bernard.
Barometric pressure, enhanced by baritone bagpipes, caused Bernard’s pursuers to introduce bassoons, bass guitars, and bongo drums to the barnyard beat. This distraction allowed the bookbinder to build a bulletproof bulkhead beside his bungalow near the Boardwalk. Meanwhile Bernard’s buddiesstopped for burgers and beverages at Bob’s House of Beef on Berkshire Boulevard, near the burlesque theater, where buxom babes brandished their bodacious bazooms. Brenda and her two bosom buddies, Boom Boom and Barb, were the backup act for the beatnik band, Bruce and the Backaches.
A block party brunch featuring a bevy of broccoli, beets, bacon, and black bread, enticed bachelors and beach bums. They would gather at the benches near the backwoods, to help unload the bags of bagels and baklava for the banquet tables. A baseball game for bald barbers against brunette ballerinas began at 2 PM (The brunettes were heavily favored!). Barmaids dispensed barleycorn to the barflies who barfed after the first swallow, because they had forgotten to chew it thoroughly. Bingo broke out at 3 o’clock, as brigades of old biddies wearing boas, and biting down on their biweekly banana bread and barbecue, bickered over their bingo cards , waiting for the first number to be called. Who can for
From his bunker, Bernard watched the bikers backpedal while backfiring their mopeds, and stuffing six packs into their backpacks, so they could relax, until the backstabbing began. He was rushing to finish a belated backorder to bind 26 volumes of the Britannica using bobcat fur on the front, and badger fur on the back. He was behind on his Bourbon intake, and his liver had reached the boiling point. Bernard’s bootlegger saved the day with bottles of booze and beer, bound in burlap bags buried in the back of a buckboard wagon under some blackberry plants.
Bernard’s employer, Back Bay Binders, was a bureaucracy that boasted about owning all the bookends used in Boston’s bookmobiles. They had bargained with Bernard’s barrister about bankrolling the buyout of a bankrupt butterscotch factory. This new facility would buy back books about bullfighters and buffalo hunters, and rewrite them into books about bears, bees, and butterflies. Bernard’s bipolar banker led a bipartisan band of bishops in a bargaining session that would begin a basic budget to build a bookstore that featured a bistro that would attract a better bunch of bookworms and boozers.
Baron von Breezeway, a bifocal wearing botanist, who had just recovered from a bout with gout, organized a boycott against the bookstore/bistro, claiming a bias against biology. Breezeway bombarded the assembled crowd with bromides about booze and boozers. Bernard had alerted the bigwigs at the bank about this threat; they suggested giving free booze and a book to the protesters to end the boondoggle. Bernard’s bistro had dodged a bullet, causing Bernard to bellow like a banshee on barbiturates! Bernard final move was to purchase Back Bay Binders. His final project was to rebind all the books in the library of Congress; he had the low bid!