The Plan
I was at a nexus of improbabilty, whatever that means.
It would appear to an outside observer that the Buddabings PartyMob and yours truly were in the backyard patio of a skeevy dive bar in Hell's Kitchen. It might appear we were in a prefab Christmas set thrown up by the party mob in the time it takes me to scarf down two free hotdogs. It might appear that it was the evening of the next Christmas Eve, the one shopping days away.
Me, I no longer had any idea of where we were, when we were. Or what we were doing. Or what was real. And what was my imagination. Was I passed out in a booth inside the bar, dreaming this, or was a butterfly dreaming I was a ... oh, nevermind.
(Possible underscoring with music only: "Let it Snow", the one that starts — The weather outside was frightful")
While it was snowing like Nordic Hell outside, inside the Christmas set the gang had built, it was toasty warm, which was good, considering how little the ladies were wearing. I looked up and it was like their was a globe or force field so something keeping the snow and wind from blowing in.
"Are you all ready?" asked Louis, in the manner of a football coach doing his pregame psych job.
The rest of the gang nodded.
That wasn't enough for Louie. "I said, Are you ready?"
There were an assortment of Yes, Yeahs, and Molly's "Hell, yes!
"Hell, yes?" screamed Louie, looking like he was ready to bite the heads off snakes to get them pumped.
"Hell, yes!" they screamed back in unison. Except for Vinnie who just shook his head sadly.
"I'm ready, too," I mumbled, "but for what?"
"To take back Christmas," announced D'Oliya.
I must have looked a bit skeptical. I sure felt skeptical.
"Christmas as you know it is gonna be gonzo, deceased, a dead parrot," said HiTone.
“The BuddaBings are gonna own Christmas!"said Louie.
'Own it, I thought?'
I heard Molly say, “Santa Claus is gonna be retired to Miami Beach,” as she adjusted the garter belt that held up her thigh-high candy-cane stockings. IMHO, that move made her eclipse D'Oliya in the America's Most Idolicky Santa's Little Helper pagent, which I was holding in my head.
D’Oliya smirked, waving her velvet whip in my direction, “Retired permanently, after I have a little fun with him.” which put her back in the running.
“Clydie is going to be running the gift distribution operation. But regular citizens don’t gotta worry bout nuthin’.“ Louie said in voice that made me think of a politician’s promise.
“They’re gonna love it.” said HiTone in a way that makes me doubt it.
Why I don’t believe HiTone in particular, I’m not sure. I mean I don’t believe any of it, so why should I disbelieve some parts more than others? It seems I believe everything Molly says, except about the alternate reality stuff which is just zonkers.
“First, we’re gonna move the North Pole factory to Jersey.”
“Hoboken,” Vinnie clarified, then sang in a Sinatra voice, “my kinda town Ho-boken is.”
I now know how Alice felt going thru the looking glass. Either I’m crazy. Or they are. Or both. I sipped more brandy. It might not help to get myself wasted, well more wasted, but I figured it couldn't hurt.
“We’re gonna have our very own very professional personnel. Union guys from Brooklyn, Staten Island and the Bronx.” boasted Louie.
“And some my cousins from Long Island,” said D’Oliya, “when they get out.”
"I'm gonna be President Of The Union," said HiTone. "And dues collector."
“It’s like a big time jobs program that we should be receiving a government subsidy for,” said Louie. “We’ll be working on that with Senator Menendez.”
“Jersey guys take care of Jersey guys.” added HiTone.
“Imagine how great it will be,” said D’Oliya.
"Hell yes!" yelled Molly.
They sounded like they all believed it. Really believed it.
Vinnie added, “No more of them sneaky little Elves with them big pointy ears listening to stuff they oughten to listen to.”
“But kids are still gonna get their goodies.” said Molly.
“All we want in return is a little respect.“ said Louie.
As D’Oliya chirped in with, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T”.
HiTone added, “And a cut of the action.”
"But first we need to make our last transistion," said Molly, looking at her hand-held thingie.
They took their places on the raised part of the backyard patio. It was almost like a stage. The snow whirling around outside our force field must have made it look like one of those snow globe things. Like the snowglobe an aunt from Munster, Indiana might buy for a nephew who wanted a GI Joe action figure. Only this giant snow globe had the PartyMob inside.
They began to sing to the tune of "Let it Snow"
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This text will be replaced by the flash music player.
The weather outside is shitty But in here it is so pretty So now that’s its time to go... Let’s do the timewarp again. Let’s do the timewarp again. |
For what was supposed to be a transdimensional transistion, it was underwhelming. I must admit I expected lightning or thunder, or Vinnie to start yelling "it's alive." Or the Clydesdeers fake antlers to get real. Or something. But a whole lot of nothing happened.
Molly and Louie both checked their ipodish things.
"Looks like we made it." sang Vinnie. I was really glad he stopped there, and didn't go singing a whole Barry Manilow parody.
"I concur," replied Molly.
Louie announced, "We're definitely here!"
I wondered where here was. And why it looked so much the same as the here before here.
