Monster Media 1993 #2/Image.iso/magazine/rubyv21.zip/RUBY21-8

Text File | 1993-05-02 | 14KB | 251 lines

Copyright 1993(c)

                      IN THE GROOVEY GROVE

               A Ruby on The Half Shell Adventure

    "The first thing we'll do, is we'll kill all the Critics"

     "...and while I admit I find the concept of an aerobics
program on radio somewhat unusual, I can actually fault only a
couple of things. First, I note there is no cool-down period, which
is a health hazard. Second, I feel the choice of music is redundant
and a bit tiring. When you combine those factors with the program
sponsor ... I mean, hand grenade perfume and power drinks made from
God knows what??! Well, it just defies the imagination, caller,
does it not?"
     Dr. Deon O'Dare, noted social psychologist and talk show host,
waited expectantly for agreement.
     "I don't know... I kind of liked the way she licked that
shoe," came the response. "Shoe licking is an art, you know. It
really started my day off with a bang."
     "Mr. ummh, Balgoatfoot, was it?" asked the doctor.
     "No, no, just Goatfoot. That Bal thing was a slip of the
tongue. It's plain Goatfoot. Feater Goatfoot," the caller
clarified.
     "Well, Mr. Goatfoot, I am not sure that shoe licking has
become a national passtime along the lines of, say, football. In
fact, I'm not at all sure it or your intense interest in it is
altogether healthy. It may even be a bit of a perversion - not at
all the sort of thing children should be listening to," judged the
doctor.
     "Sure. Sure. I know it's not a weak man's passion. I'm just
saying, well, it's good if you like it. And so are those power
drinks you're knocking. I think America is ready for a little
adventure in its lunchtime fare. Who's to say just because peanut
butter hasn't been a standard ingredient in power drinks is any
reason to keep it out. I happen to think it adds a nice sort of
nutty flavor, and there's no denying it improves the consistency.
Anything I can't stand, it's thin, runny power drinks. None of that
stuff at the Lustre Bar, by golly."
     The group gathered around the radio at the Lustre Bar listened
intently. Sy Feierstadt, the world's friendliest bartender, snorted
at the comment about his power drinks, but otherwise made no
comment.
     "Mr. Goatfoot, surely we're not here to discuss the woman's
drink menu, now are we?" asked the doctor, a decided edge to his
voice. "If so, there are several items I might find questionable,
not least of which is the claim that one's mental prowess is
somehow improved by their consumption. Why, there is absolutely not
one shread of medical evidence..."
     "Hey! HEY!! I don't know what you expect her to do. Kee-rist!
she's using real fruit. You got any idea what that costs a
businessperson? Hell, it would have been like me putting a full
shot of hooch in each drink at my joint. I'd a been outta' business
by sundown."
     "Regardless of your somewhat questionable business practices,
Mr. Goatfoot, one cannot just waltz into the Grove and claim
mystical powers for a bunch of fruit soda. Aside from that, what
kind of name is Ruby on the Half Shell? Or the Lustre Bar, for that
matter? And did the band really have to be the Pearl Jam? It's all
just too cutesy, if you ask me. She could have been much more
inventive with those names."
     "She couda' but she didn't. This is America. It's her
business. Whad'ya? - Want to dictate the name of the restaurant AND
the stock and menu? What kind of Commie are you? That's it, isn't
it? You're a Commie. A Commie fag. I got a parking lot full of good
ole' boys with pick-em-ups and gun racks don't like Commie pinko
fags, fella, and...".
     CLICK.
     Buzzzzz.
     [That's all the time we have today, folks, said the melodious
Don Pardo-like voice. Tune in tomorrow when Dr. O'Dare discusses
the latest in rejuvenating face masks - Kumquat jell.]
     "They're my freakin' power drinks and I'll add anything I
like," Sy announced, clicking the radio off and heading for the
kitchen - a decided gleam in his eye.
     "Oh God, I see it now - tuna essence surprise," moaned
Elizabeth Succar, dropping her head into her hands. "Probably tuna
essence with a dash of kumquat sauce."
                                ***
    "Yum," exclaimed Ruby Begonia, taking another sip of Sy's
essence de mango y libra into her mouth.
     "Yuck. Ptooey," she said, spitting something into her hand.
"Looka' this here, Sy," she demanded. "What IS this?"
     Sy moved to peer into her hand. "I don't know. It kinda' looks
like that washer from the ladies' toilet. Hey, Elizabeth," he
called toward the boutique section.
     "What do you think this is?" Sy asked.
     Elizabeth Succar glanced into Ruby's palm, snatched up the
offending object and dunked it into Ruby's power drink. She marched
over to the small outdoor table in front of the store, corner where
Dave and Del Freeman sat basking in the sun and consuming one of
the less offensive power drinks, and yanked David's chair from
beneath him. She upended the chair, roundly smacked the object onto
the tip of a leg and uprighted the chair, testing it with her hand.
"Here you go, David," she invited him to sit back down. "No
wobble."
     "Ye Gods, Sy, you gotta' be more careful. What if David over
there had gotten ahold a that?" demanded Ruby.
     Sy smiled benignly. "He's have had a lovely and beautiful day,
Ruby. He's an old biker, remember?"
                                ***
     "Oh boy, look at that," said Ruby, as a large delivery van
pulled up to the front doors of Ruby on The Half Shell later in the
afternoon. "Who'd a thought those hand grenade perfumes would be
such a winner?" she asked no one in particular. "Bring 'em right
in here, boys," she called to the truck's attendants, who used a
dolly to move several large cases into the storage room. Ruby
promptly set up a storefront display, and got out her notebook of
customer listings to call her regulars and alert them to the new
shipment.
     Willy Hernandez was delighted to hear about the new stock, and
promised to come right down and purchase a minimum of two cases.
He had discovered that nothing worked quite so well on fire ants
as did the fragrance of "Devastate" perfume.
     Julie Van Tassel had a similar response. She'd discovered that
since the effectiveness of her key chain Defender Plus had expired
several months before, it was relatively easy to refill the
container with Devastate, which was not only much cheaper, but
seemed to have a more lethal effect of potential muggers. When
she'd had to use it on a viscious rabid dog outside a downtown
school yard, the dog had curled immediately into a fetal position
and whined piteously. He not only avoided her when she visited the
school thereafter, he quit marking her tires. Since Julie visited
a number of schools in a given week, many guarded by unfriendly
dogs, she'd found Devastate an invaluable aid.
     Anthony Hall, too, said he would rush right down. He had
inadvertently spilled half a bottle of Devastate into his sink
several weeks before, and discovered that it exceeded even the
effectiveness of Liquid Plumb'r in clearing his drains.
     "Whew, well, that's the lot of 'em," said Ruby, closing her
telephone directory and nodding to Sy. "Expect a rush any minute,"
she advised.
     "Say, Ruby, - by the way, I hope you're having a nice day?"
At Ruby's nod, he continued. "Wasn't there a fellow on the other
coast that bought some of this the first time we stocked it who
ended up losing it, or something? Shouldn't you call him?"
     "By golly, Sy, you're right," said Ruby, snapping her fingers
in recollection. She picked up the phone and rapidly dialed a long
distance number.
     "Hi," she greeted the party on the other end of the line
brightly. "Is he available to talk? No, no, I won't upset him. I
understand he's still under the doctor's care. I just have some
exciting news that I think will really cheer him up."
     She waited, drumming fake long red nails on the bartop, as
whoever answered the phone presumably went off to get the party she
was calling.
     "Hey, this is Ruby Begonia calling from Ruby on The Half
Shell," she announced when her party answered, "and I've got some
really exciting news for you. We have just received a large
shipment of Devastate perfume, the one in that nice, decorative
little hand grenade packaging? I knew how much you liked it and Sy,
the world's friendliest bartender here at the Lustre Bar, well, he
seemed to recall that nasty little incident where you lost all the
ones you bought, and we thought you might like us to maybe ship
some out to you?
     "Hello? Hello? Gosh, Sy, listen to this," Ruby said, holding
out the phone from which great, gulping sobs could be heard.
     "The guy's just torn up at our thoughtfulness. I'll betcha
that'll put him on the road to recovery sooner than any medication
those stupid shrinks in California are giving him. No need to thank
me, hon," she said into the mouthpiece as the sobs turned to long,
keening shrieks. "I'll get it in the mail right away."
     She began to wrap an entire case in brown paper, penciling in
the name and adding postage, humming softly to herself.
     "You know, Sy, you're right. It really does do my heart good
to know I've gone out of my way for somebody like this."
     "Be sure and put in a note and tell him to have a nice day,"
said Sy.
     "Oh, I'm sure he will once he gets this package in the mail,"
predicted Ruby. "You know, I have a real warm spot in my heart for
that guy. I just love a man who's able to get in touch with his
emotional side and express it so well. That Dick Burkhalter is one
sensitive guy, no?"
                              END

Copyright (c) 1993

                    RUBY'S JOINT:  "Davie, Bar the Door"

     When Kent's Place closed, and Kent was forced to open the
books ahead of schedule (translation: before he could hide the rest
of the money), Dave and Del Freeman found themselves with enough
green to open a playpen for Ruby. Lord knows they needed it.
     Ruby had gotten herself thrown out of D.C.--John and Lucia
Chambers were breathing deep sighs of relief--and with Kent's Place
closed, Ruby was spending all her time at the Freeman mansion.
Dave and Del were concerned for her welfare--well, actually, Del's
exact words were, "Get that outrageous slut out of my house!".
     Dave found a not-too-ramshackle storefront still standing in
Miami, added the world's second-ugliest bar (the ugliest bar in the
world was barbecued when Mrs. O'Leary's cow got testy), and opened
Ruby's Joint. Ruby's reputation preceded her, and that (and the
free beer and hot dogs at the grand opening) brought business up
to a fevered pace in no time at all.
                               ***
     "Howdy, Dave," Michael Hahn waved at the harried-looking man
behind the bar. It was hard for a man that big to look that
harried, so Ruby must be in. As if on cue, a garish woman in a hot-
pink Spandex tu-tu and bright green tights sailed out of the
kitchen.
     "Hey, sugar!" she lilted. "What's brings you to town?"
     "Business. Where's Del?" Michael directed the last question
at Dave as he slid onto a stool.
     Dave slipped a coaster in front of the slender fellow in the
grey leather jacket, added a club soda with a twist of lemon.
"She's in the back, doing the books. You found something?"
     "I did indeed," Michael replied. "Kent's got a couple of
offshore accounts he thought he'd kept quiet."
     Ruby's eyes quickly glazed--she liked money, but not the
details of acquiring it. As she wandered away to harass other
patrons (Sy Feierstadt was beginning to get nervous), Dave leaned
closer to Michael and whispered, "Have you fixed things up north
yet?"
     "Well, the Park Service didn't think much of the
candy-striping on the Washington Monument, and they still haven't
gotten all the Mr. Bubble out of the reflecting pool." Michael
smiled.  "I think celebrating the cherry blossoms with the world's
largest bubble bath was going a little too far."
     Dave gulped. "They didn't think we had anything to do with
it, did they?"
     "Nah. I convinced them Ms. Begonia is a free agent. Anyway,
John and Lucia are none too eager to see Ruby, so I think you'd
better figure on at least another month." Michael dropped a five
on the bar. "Put the change on my account. I'll have that chat with
Del now."
     As Michael disappeared into the office, Clark Burner and Greg
Kirby walked in the door. "Not bad," Clark said, looking around.
"Ugly bar, though."
     "You can say that again," Greg added, as the two dropped into
a booth. "It's tough finding a nice, sleazy joint since Kent
boarded up his Place."
     "Where's Penny?" Clark asked, as he waved at Dave.
     "She's been busy lately--something about cleaning up a mess
her boss made." Greg smiled wistfully. "I really hated letting that
string quartet go."
     "TA-DA!!" Lyn Rust trumpeted, bursting in the front door.
"<HUGG>s and <SMOOCH>es all around!!"
     Dave Freeman turned green, ducked behind the bar. Every time
Lyn and Ruby got together, something got broken. Usually it was a
city ordinance or two. From his fetal position behind the bar he
could hear the jukebox start up. He peeked over the top just in
time to see Lyn execute a perfect flying double-somersault with a
half twist, ending in a two-point landing on the bar. Ruby flew
through the air from the opposite direction, and the two began to
gyrate.
     Del poked her head out of the back, made a loud raspberry
sound, and ducked back into the office.
     Greg and Clark had smiles on their faces. "It might not be
Kent's," Clark shouted over the music, "but it's not bad."
                               END