Coming Back To The Back
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Optional Background Music Baby Come Home To Me |
In the backyard, the Partymob welcomed me like a guy with the beer and pizza. Molly even gave me a big hug, which for the moment, at least, make me think I'd made a good decision.
Louie handed me a snifter of the VSOP, “Molly said you’d be back.”
“Everything she said would happen, has happened,” said Vinnie.
“Unreal,” I replied.
“Exactly,” said Little Vinnie.
It was snowing even harder now outside the dome, a real storm of a storm — a damn whiteout with lightning flashes shinning through in the distance. Maybe Mother Nature didn’t like it when somebody started messing with her reality.
But it was all warm and cozy insize the big-ass snow globe that encased the Christmas set.
I turned to Molly. "Please tell me what's going on? And why me?"
"To alter reality, besides all the songs and stupid stuff we did, we need a whole bunch of polar opposites to coexist. Highest tech in the lowest dive. A guy who doesn't believe in anything to believe in us. We need that guy who never joins anybody to join us. We need to have that selfish guy to make a sacrifice. We need a cowardly guy to be brave."
"And that's me?"
"That's you. You're The Guy."
"And that's all."
"We need to use The Guy's computer."
"Oh," I said.
Molly continued, "And we need two people who are at totally different ends of the spectrum from different realities to love fall in love."
Oh, shit. Was what I was feeling love? Mostly I was feeling the effects of the brandy. How could Molly feel...
I was 74.6% sure I was being conned. But I didn't really care.
“Could you set up your computer again, Paddy? Please?” asked Molly. I could still see her “Merry Christmas” panties hanging from Clydie’s antlers. She said the four letter word that begins with "L". How could I say no?
Okay, I’m a sucker who Molly sucked into this mess, but I’d still rather have been here with the nutty BuddaBings Partymob than sitting alone at the Holland Bar sucking on an ice cube, and trying to chat up the old ladies so they'd buy another drink.
Molly stood at the keyboard punching madly. She made GPS and ETA announcements to the group. In between she gave me more info on string theory, and how we there were 11 dimensions and 26 alternative dimensions and 16 realities, and we had broken thru to the one where Santa existed and that could only be got to when Danny
86d us to the backyard. And the final, most unlikely event that took us over the edge of improbability was me coming back with my computer.
“You’re the last link. Your decision to come back made it possible. But it was a decision you had to make. A very unlikely decision.”
It seemed that when they took care of Santa here, Santa would be gone in all of the realities. “Then we can all go back to our original realities, taking only Clydie with us. And you, too, Paddy. You’re part of the original reality. We all need to cross back over together. When we're done doing Santa, we can
do it.”
Molly yelled, "Releasing the dome." And we were back in the wind and snow.
Danny stuck his head out of the back door. He saw the Christmas set. He looked at us as if we were nuts. “You know it’s a blizzard back here. You need to come back in — as long as you don’t sing.”
Then HiTone pulled his weedwacker and... Louie knocked his arm down.
“Just a couple more songs and we’ll be right in.” shouted Louie.
“You really shouldn’t be out here. I can’t allow…”
“We need to do it from here,” Molly soto-voiced to Louie. "We need to do it, now!"
Louie shouted loudly, “Vinnie, please go in and pick up another bottle or two of Courvoisier to keep our throats warm. And tip the bartender another hundred.”
Danny relented, his financial judgment overcoming his real judgment. Good Bar Managers are probably the same in all the realities.
Right after Danny went back in the snow storm got even stormier.
The big Cinzano umbrella blew away and lodged against the back fence. I grabbed a hold of the back of my Mac to keep it from becoming a Frisbee.
HiTone covered Molly and the computer with his coat, but it took both he and D’Oliya to keep the coat from blowing away, too.
A lightning bolt hit the umbrella next to the fence setting it to smolder. And then another bolt hit explosively in another corner. And another hit HiTone’s bass. Like artillery strikes homing in closer and closer.
"We're gonna die. I knew it," screamed Vinnie.
Molly said, “It’s our old reality trying to snap us back."
"Mother Nature is a bitch," yelled HiTone over the roaring wind.
"It's the end. The four winds of the Apocalypes. Death. Destruction. Famine. Taxes! And crotch rot" screamed Vinnie.
"Red Suit ETA two minutes!" said Molly.
"Clydie, you’re on.” yelled Louie.
Clydie went into a quick gallop, then took off into the air. “The Legend Begins!” she yelled. “Rudolf, here I come.” That big clunky horse could really fly. Hell, she could talk, why shouldn’t she be able to fly? Or use her hooves to play piano.
“Damn,” said Molly after about 30 seconds of watching the screen. “GPS has Clydie going the wrong way!”
We’d find out later that Clydie mistook a red light on a third floor whore house on 11th Avenue for Rudolph’s nose, and crashed right thru the window, catching Rudy Giuliani getting it on with two hookers, a Shetland pony, Ann Coulter wearing a strap-on, and a cageful of gerbils —which goes to show just how close
our different realities actually are.
So was Santa really coming? And what would happen now that their plan hadn't worked?