Patton Lee Beaugus | December 20, 2010 4:45pm
Molly was bent over inputting something from a memory stick into my Mac. The skirt on her little red Santa's helper outfit was too little to hide the fact that she was still wearing her Merry Christmas panties. Something was written on the back, too, but before I could lean in to decifer it, she told not to stand where I was, but "over there" which would have been where the raised patio would have been if we still in the backyard of Rudy's bar instead of a wooded glade in some alternate reality of string theory.
This was my chance to escape these wackjobs. Maybe my only one. They were so into each other's harmonies, they didn't give me glance.
I heard a big whooshy engine noise and more whooshes.
Suddenly, a huge stage began to inflate.
Like roadies on speed, they got quickly their instruments up there including a drum kit and a piano. Wow! And a damn lasor light show! Clydie, the flying Clydesdale cross dresser, sure had delivered the goods. It is amazing what you can pile into a flying red cadilac. Eat your heart out, Santa.
Molly announced that this was their big Christmas song, as she powered down my computer, and unhooked from her system. "But I still need it for at least the next transition," she said.
I frowned at her, wondering what she was doing. I didn't understand why they needed my Mac. She just smiled and closed the cover, but kept it on her control table.
"This is our big number and it is totally original, except for the parts we ripped off, " said Louie settling himself behind he drum kit.
Molly threw a switch on the console, and suddenly there were lights like Yankee Stadium coming from the Mountain behind me where Rudy's building used to be. "And if we're lucky, this number and what happens next might be the last improbable things before we transition to do the deed."
When she climbed up to join them, they broke into their new almost original song with only a couple or six ripoffs in the middle.
This text will be replaced by the flash music player.
They were way into the song. They even had it choreographed.
This was my chance. To grab another drink from the bottle Louie had left out. Or bugout like the cowardly coward I am. Maybe my only chance to escape. They were so into each other's harmonies, and dance moves, they didn't give me glance. I compromised. I poured another Courvoiser.
After a big sip, I sneakily grabbed my computer and slipped back toward the back door to Rudy's, only falling down once. I hesitated at the top of the incline where the stairs used to be, right in front of the door back into what I hoped was still my bar in my reality. I thought for just a nanosecond that maybe I should stay. Would my exit screw up their plans? Was that a good thing? Or a bad thing? Sometimes I'm not so good at decisions except to what beer to order, which is mostly the cheapest.
I took a last look back as they celebrated drunkenly. The BuddaBings PartyMob. Well, they certainly know how to party. Partying is good, right. I mean that's what I do everyday, at least in my head. Have a few drinks. Listen to the music. What was wrong with that?
Jesus on Jetskis! I was taking them seriously. After all I'd been through with them that evening I was pretty sure they were real somewhere. But would it effect my reality? My personal reality? I mean I'm the kind of guy who doesn't care about reality as a whole, just my little piece of it in the back booth of the best dive bar in NYC with a Rudy's Red in front of me.
My reality was Hell's Kitchen. I didn't know from Alternate Reality. Santa Claus. String theory. A talking horse that was a cross-dresser — talking about taking out Rudolph. Replacing elves with union guys. Replacing all the Christmas songs with drinking songs.
My last thought was “What if their ridiculous alternate reality was for real in my reality? And what if I was really in it?”
I saw that Molly saw me leaving.
She pretended not to notice me like she pretended she didn't catch me looking at her panties. Or looking at D'Oliya's cleavage. I already knew that look.
She didn't try to stop me, or rat me out to her gang. She just mouthed two words at me, making me wish I was a lip-reader. I thought, maybe hoped, she mouthed "come back."
Yeah, right.
Then that little bastard Vinnie saw me. He started to jump off the stage, but Molly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. The others continued to sing, as Molly whispered something in Vinnie's ear and the tuxedoed little shit gave me a look that almost froze me.
Almost. But I was gonna be gone. And I wasn't coming back. Although I had to admit, Molly was sure a great kid.
I opened the door and slunk out.
And then...
