Me and Billy were best friends for about five years before we had our falling out. It was all on account of his confession. Man, I wish he’d never spilled to me.
We met at the wedding of a mutual friend, had a few beers while our wives were off gossiping with the new bride. We were both amazed and delighted at all the stuff we had in common.
Billy said, “You know what I love? Laurel and Hardy. Man, they make me laugh.”
“Me too!” I said. “You know what else? Sometimes I like to order pizza with no sauce on it.”
“No kidding!” Billy said. “Me too!”
And it went on like that. We both loved British crime movies. We both loved spy novels. We both loved the Dick Van Dyke show. Having been a loner all my life, I’d never experienced that sort of male camaraderie before. It was like I’d found my long lost brother or something.
So for five years, Billy was my best pal, and we made a point of hanging out at least twice a week or so, drinking beer, shooting the shit, watching TV.
And then one night, after drinking probably more than he should, Billy looked at me with blood-shot eyes and said, “Hey, man. I… I have a confession to make.”
“What is it, bro?”
“This is really hard for me to tell you, man. But… well, my name’s not really Billy Kingman.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“I hope we’ll still be friends after I tell you this…”
“Of course we will,” I said. “You’re my best pal, Billy. You always will be.”
He nodded, and I saw tears forming in his eyes. He said, “Okay. I’m not really Billy Kingman. My real name is… my real name is Adolph Hitler.”
“What?” I said, hardly believing my ears.
“I’m Hitler, bro. Leader of the Nazi Party. I started World War II, tried to take over Europe, and killed millions of Jews. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
Well, it was heart-breaking, what can I tell you? I felt horrible. I felt betrayed. I ordered him out of my house right then and there, and he left, tears streaming.
That was over a year ago now. I still think of him sometimes, my pal Billy. He's probably pretty lonely. But goddamnit, he was Hitler. How could I have ever looked at him the same way again?