Vacation

The boys are going on vacation while I update, edit and rework some of their posts.  When we come back there will be illustrations, so stay tuned.

Opening Day Part 7

"And stay out," Dweezil thundered, as Jack was hustled out of the barn in hand cuffs.  You are banned from coming here, forever," he added, wiping his hands on his apron and then shutting the bar door. "Well that was certainly enough excitement to last for the rest of the year.

"Mr. Dweezil," he heard a small voice say as a he felt the tap of delicate paw on his shoulder.

"Yes? he asked turning to face Lyla, who was staring up at him with large tear filled eyes.

"Please don't ban Jackie from the bar.  He didn't mean what he said.  After a few drinks, he sometimes talks crazy, but underneath he's all soft and misunderstood. He's not a bad guy, not really.

Dweezil felt three pairs of female feline eyes boring holes in his back. Diane he understood, and Trixie would have been close enough to hear the whole thing and want to be involved.  But how on earth had his mother inveigled herself into the middle of this mess.  Now he had to be on guard,  because one misstep and be hearing about it for the rest of his life.

So, sighing deeply, he turned, and placing a conciliatory paw around her shoulders said, "Actually Lyla, I'm afraid that he meant ever word. Cats like that generally do. And your too sweet and pretty a kitten," he added bumbling around for something positive to say.  She looked on the verge of tears again.  There really was no winning in this, and he just knew that everyone in the bar was hanging on every his word, and this whole conversation would be all over town within an hour.  

"Somewhere out there, is another cat who's going to love you and take care of you and want to lay the world at your feet.  And as long as your wrapped up with that no good, louse, you'll never meet him."

She didn't need to meet him, Harlan thought sadly to himself as reentered the bar in time to hear the tale end of the conversation. "The one cat who loves you and has loved you since we were both kittens is standing right here, only you barely know that I exist."

He was looking at her with such longing that Yvette felt compelled to do something about that situation.  And when Yvette decided to get involved the problem was as good as solved.

Opening Day - Part 6

"Arrest him," both cats hissed in unison, pointing their claws at each other.

Squig carefully considered the situation in front of him.  Then arching an eyebrow, and sighing deeply, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his badge.  Pinning it onto his sweater, he walked towards what he would later call the Friday night situation.  The fact that Harlan had somehow insinuated himself into the middle of it, meant that this boondoggle was thoroughly messed up and would take the patience of a saint to untangle.

"So," he asked in his much practiced friendly but firm tone of voice. "Would someone like to tell me what's going on here?"

They both started talking at once, so Squig reached back into his pocket, took out his police whistle and gave it a hearty blow.

"One at a time, gentlemen," he said once they'd quieted down.  "You on the floor, " he poked Jack with the toe of his boot.  "Let's start with you.  "Now what are you doing lying down here on Mr. Felinerino's floor, with his boot on your stomach?"

"He actually put his paws on me, flipped me over his shoulder, and landed me on the floor. "  His face was turning an interesting shade of purple as spit out his story.

"Now why would Mr. Felinerino want to that?  Besides practicing his karate.  He has a black belt you know.  Oh, " he continued,  noticing the shocked look on the cat's face. You didn't know?  Well I guess you do now.  So let's try this again.  Why would Mr Felinerino want to flip you over his shoulder and land you like a trout on the floor of his bar?"


"Because he talked real mean to Lyla,"  Harlan interjected.

"Harlan,"  Squig snapped losing his patience.  "I did not ask for your opinion and I want you to keep your mouth closed until I do."

"Mr. Felinerino did that, Squigman," Dweezil interjected with an extra thump on Jack's stomach , because this jackwad came into my bar, humiliated my sweetest barmaid, ordered an expensive beer he had no intention of paying for, and then hurled said beer in my face.  I actually had no choice.  It was either that or shoot him."

"Dweeze, I mean Mr. Felinerino, you are not doing yourself any favors by talking like that."

"Squigman, Dweeze," Jack squawked, trying to squirm his way out from under Dweezil's boot. You two are friends," he sneered raising his head and attempting to stare each of then down. "There's no law enforcement going on here.  I am Jack Katz," he roared, "and my damn family owns this town."

"Your wrong on both counts, Jack Katz." Squig said calmly staring him down.   "When it comes to the law I am a friendless orphan, and considering that his is not a medieval fief, but a 21st century town in the United States, I can say with a great deal of assurance that the tax payers own this town, not your family."

The patrons stopped trying to look small and insignificant. This was the first time in town history that anyone had ever stood up to a Katz.  Could it be that things were going to change?

".What do you mean my family doesn't own this town?" Jack snarled, puffing himself and laying back his ears as well as a cat could who was pinned to the floor.  Once this asshole lets me up, I'll show you who owns this town."  His face was turning that interesting color of purple again,

"Are you threatening me, Jack Katz?" Squig asked, kneeling down to look directly into his eyes,

"You're damn straight I am.  And once I'm on my feet, you're going to find out why the town gives me all the respect I deserve."

"Then you Jack Katz have just made a big mistake," Squig said standing up. "Harlan," he continued tossing his car keys to him, "Go out to my car and open up my trunk.  Both pair of cuffs are in a box up front. Bring them in and we'll see what Mr. Katz has to say for himself."

"Right away, boss," Harlan laughed as he went out to the car.

"Jack Katz," Squig quoted kneeling back down, "You have the right to remain silent.  You have the right to have an attorney present as anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.  If you can't afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.."

"You can't do this."  Jacked screamed.  "I'm a Katz and you can't do this."

Opening Day Part 5

"Rule number two, " Dweezil said extending his claws, "Unless Ms. Tailer has extended a free drink, if you order a  beer, you pay for a beer.

And listen very carefully to rule number one," he continued poking him in the stomach with every word, as he backed Jack into the bar. "You do  not ever come into my bar and  humiliate, disrespect, or in any way give a hard time to my waitstaff.  Do I make myself clear?" He poked him a few more times, for emphasis.

"Oh perfectly," Jack answered stepping away from the bar. "And do you want to know what I intend to do about that." And without missing a beat, he lifted his beer and hurled it into Dweezil's face.

The bar patrons, gasping in unison, immediately tried to make themselves as small and insignificant looking as possible, so as not to draw Jack's attention.  No one wanted to be the next recipient of his all to familiar acts of random cruely.

Dweezil, however was completely calm. First he removed a napkin from the pocket of his apron, and after wiping his face, balanced himself, took hold of Jack's arm, and in one smooth move, flipped him over, landing him flat on his back on the floor.  He then placed his foot on Jack's stomach, in order to hold him down and asked politely, "Would anyone like to help me toss this trash out onto the street."

Diane, stepping out from behind the door, said, "Mr, Dweezil I would love to help you.  This asshole has had something like this coming for years."

From the back of the bar a voice called out as Harlan stepped forward,  "No Diane, this is family matter and I'll take care of it. He then walked over to Dweezil and asked, "Do you want the paws, Mr. Dweezil or the feet?"

"Harlan, you miserable little toad." Jack squawked, puffing himself up to twice his size and twitching his tail as best he could. You help this clown and I'll make your life such a misery, I'll..."

"I don't believe I gave you permission to open your mouth," Dweezil cut in, grinding his foot into Jack's stomach. "

"I'm really sorry Jack," Harlan said bending down in front of him, but you had no right to talk to Lyla like that, no right at all."

And with that the bar door opened and Squig walked in.

Opening Day Part 4

Carefully wiping his paws on his apron, Dweezil scanned the bar to see what was the matter.  It didn't take too long to figure out that the cat that Diane was glaring at had something to do with the huddle in the corner.   All of his wait staff were congregated there comforting a distraught Lyla, who looked like she had just lost her best friend.

"Diane." he asked archly, "what's going on?"

"This asshole," she sneered pointing at Jack.  "Insulted Lyla and made her cry. But that wasn't the end of it," she shook her head for emphasis. "Oh no, not being content with breaking her heart, he came over here, demanded our best IPA and then refused to pay for it."

Dweezil sighed.  Every instinct he had told him to go over to that oddly familiar looking cat, turn him upside down, shake the seven dollars out of his pockets, and then kick him to the curb.   But he had a bar to run and this was probably what the cops would call a domestic disturbance, so he decided to take the conciliatory tact.

Crossing the bar, he placed a paw on Jack's jacket and said, "Now, I'm sure we can work this out.  I guess being not familiar with the cost of a prime IPA, the price came to you as a shock.  So this being my opening day, I'm only going to  charge you the cost of an average beer.  Diane don't you think $2.50 should do it." He smiled over at her and continued as he attempted to guide Jack over to the huddle in the 
corner.

"Now that we're all on the same page, why don't you go on over and apologize to the lady cat.  I'm assuming that the two of you had some sort of little squabble and it never hurts to be the first to say I'm sorry."

"No, " Jack said smiling nastily,

"No, " Dweezil said staring him down, "And may I ask why not?"

"Being that your new here,"  Jack said holding his ground. "You are obviously unaware of the power of my name and my standing in the community.  So for the sake of your instruction, here's the deal.  I do not pay for beers and I do not date whores."

"I don't care if your name is Barack Ocatama and your standing in the White House," Dweezil explained in a benign tone of voice.  But it was the benign tone of voice that generally had those that knew him well, heading for cover.  When you come to my place, I expect you to follow two simple rules.  And they are.."

TO BE CONTINUED

Opening Day Part 3

The same coloring that made Harlan look pasty, whey faced and totally ineffective; made his cousin Jack appear elegant, intellectual and terribly refined.  Unfortunately, in reality he was none of the above. In reality, he was pompous, boorish and down right mean.  He used the Katz name to bully and intimidate anyone who got in his way.  And on any given day, it took less than nothing to get in his way.  The cats of Katz City, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his mercurial moods, always gave him a wide berth and showered him with respect he in no way deserved.

The hush that fell over the crowd deepened, as various cats wrapped up their meals and tried to figure out how to sneak out without drawing his attention.  

There was one cat in the bar, however, who was thrilled.   Lyla Jane straightened her blouse, brushed off her jeans and walked straight over to him.  "Jack," she cried out happily, her face reflecting love, hope and not a little fear.

"Well here's my little Pearl," he purred.  "Let's get a bottle from Diamante and head on upstairs for a private party.  I'm a little thirsty and a whole lot hungry for that special kind of loving you are so famous for."

"Oh no Jacky," she whispered wringing her paws.  "We can't be doing that here no more.  Mr. Dweezil has his rules and one of them is that there is no fornimacation on the premises."

"Come again," he asked archly, twitching his whiskers and lifting an eyebrow.

"There can be no fornimacation on the premises," she said a little louder, "And since you ain't got no premises and I ain't got no premises, I guess there cain't be no fornimacation between us until one of gets his own premises.  But Miss Trixie said that it would all be alright, because we can go on dates now."  She said all in one breath, her eyes lighting up with hope, as she placed a paw on his chest. "You know we can go out to eat and to the movies.  And in time, one of us is bound to save up enough money to get their own premises."

"Have you lost what little brains you have Pearl?" He replied nastily flinging off her paw.  "Listen up folks, this little dimwit actually thinks that I would  be seen in public with a Cat House girl.   And that I, " he said dramatically indicated himself, am so hard up for dates that I would sink to dating a whore."

He shoved her aside as he walked over to the bar. "Diamante,"  he ordered, "pour me your best IPA ."

Muttering under her breath, she poured it and slamming the mug on the bar, said "That will be seven dollars."

"He took the drink, drained most of it, sat the glass on the bar, and said, Diamante, have you forgotten who I am."

"My name is Diane, asshole, you owe the bar seven dollars, and if you don't pay up in the next ten seconds, I'm calling Mr. Dweezil."

"Well go ahead and call him Diamante," he sneered leaning over the bar, "why don't you just go ahead and call him."

And with that, she pressed a button under the bar and Dweezil came out from the kitchen.





  

Opening Day - Part 2

The lunch crowd had been meager, curious, and all male.  They had stood milling around staring at the walls, as if by some lucky chance the ghost of Luella Katz would come floating down the stairs offering them all a poke, a smoke and a tot of fine bourbon.  Diane, thinking on her feet had smiled and said,  "Come on up to the bar boys, seeing as it's opening day, your first beer is on the house."

So up they shuffled while Diane passed out beers and with a wink and smile, said, "Now don't you boys be shy, sit yourselves down on these very comfortable stools and let me fix you up with a menu. They had, and she looked over at them after passing out the menus, leaned on the bar and swore in a very conspiratorial tone of voice, "You boys ain't lived till you've had a taste of Mr. Dweezil's southwest cheese burgers.  The secret ingredient is hatch chilies." 

That was all it took.  The boys started eating, the barmaids, started flirting and when it was time to go, they all said they'd be back.

The after work, happy hour crowd was larger and actually contained some lady cats, who after an awkward moment or two, came up to the bar, started ordering and flirting with one or two of the guys standing around.  

At seven, even more cats arrived and the tables were filling up fast.  Two old timers had commandeered the table closest to the window  and set up their checkerboard.  When Trixie turned all of the TV's to the Colorado Rockies game, the place came alive with groans and cheers and shouted out bits of  unsolicited  advice for the umpires.

Things were going better than Dweezil had hoped, when at 8:45, the door opened, the room fell silent, and Jack Katz walked in.