Patton Lee Beaugus | December 8, 2010 4:45pm
I don’t mind 'em going nuts, or I wouldn’t be hanging out here. I just don’t like it with guns and weed-wackers — between me and the door
My new evil companions, the BuddaBings PartyMob headed reluctantly out through Rudy's back door into the cold Christmas Eve wind. Over-reluctantly, I thought, like community theatre actors playing Foreign Legionnaires marching to their death against the fearsome Bedu, played by guys wearing sheets.
Dandy, the manager, turned on the outside lights and said, “Take your coats and stuff. And feel free to warm yourselves up with your songs. Feel free to come back in when you're done singing.”
"Certain death," whinned Vinnie. "A cold freezing end to a life that has barely begun. And I never had a top ten single!"
"Thanks. Very kind of you." said Louie, addressing Dandy and ignoring Vinnie. He pulled out a strange looking cell phone and said to his band of brigands, “Be right with you.”
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I figured this was my chance to bolt. I began to hear the juke in my head, telling me what to do. I didn't bother shutting down my computer, I just ripped out the plug it from the Christmas light outlet, and tossed it into my bag. |
I was going to get out of this! Whatever this was!
Then HiTone came back and casually blocked my exit, “Louie would like you to join us.”“Shiitaki-mushrooms,” I thought. A smile forced itself onto my lips. “Sure, thanks. I’d love to hear more of your songs,” like on a jukebox in cop bar in another part of town about 20 years from now. I mean, these guys were really interesting, but they always seemed to be on the edge of going nuts and shooting someone. Or weedwacking them.
I don’t mind people going nuts, or I wouldn’t be hanging out in Rudy's Bar and Hotdog Grill. I just didn’t like the idea of going nuts with guns, and with throwing stars and weed-wackers — with me in the vicinity.
Right then, I decided my childhood goal to be a bad evil rotten guy maybe wasn't such a good idea after all. Mom used to say, "Be careful what you ask for. Or your father will beat you like an army mule."
Damn and Hell and Sarah Palin on a stick. I was being quietly kidnapped bybad, bad-ass bad guys, which was really bad. There was nothing I could do about it, but smile and say a prayer to the beer gods, who weren't very effective at anything — but occasionaly getting me a buy-back.
I headed for the backdoor, thinking I was probably going to turn into a beer popsicle in a New York second.
Next: Angels Who Want To Get High
