Patton Lee Beaugus | December 8, 2010 12:45pm
Drunknapped

My new evil companions, the BuddaBings PartyMob headed reluctantly out through Rudy's back door into the cold December wind. Over-reluctantly, I thought, like community theatre actors playing Foreign Legionnaires marching to their dessert death against the fearsome Bedouin.

Danny the manager turned on the outside lights and said, “Take your coats. And feel free to warm it up with your songs.”

"Certain death," whinned Vinnie. "A cold freezing end to a life that has only begun."

"Thanks. Very kind of you." said Louie, addressing Danny and ignoring Vinnie. He pulled out a strange looking cell phone and said to his band, “Be right with you.”

I figured this was my chance to bolt. 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.”

“Shit,” I thought. But a smile forced itself onto my lips. “Sure, thanks. I’d love to hear more of your songs,” like on a jukebox in another bar in another part of town from here. I mean, these guys were really interesting, but they always seemed to be on the edge of going nuts and shooting someone.

I don’t mind people going nuts, or I wouldn’t be hanging out in Rudy's bar. 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."

Damn and Hell and Sarah Palin on a stick. I was being kidnapped by bad-ass bad guys. And 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 getting me a buy-back.

Next: Angels Who Want To Get High