Sunday, October 5, 2014
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.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
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.
Sunday, August 31, 2014
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."
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."
Sunday, August 24, 2014
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.
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.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
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
"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
Saturday, August 9, 2014
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.
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.
Sunday, August 3, 2014
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.
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.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Opening Day - Part 1
Dweezil walked into the bar and crossed his paws as he surveyed the scene in front of him. Every thing was just perfect. The mahogany bar was polished to a high gloss. The brass trim was shining as were the taps for the large selection of draft beer he had on hand. The ludicrous portrait of Luella Katz was gone and in its place was a large red and blue neon sign that spelled Dweezil's. Two 60 flat screen TVs were broadcasting the all news and all sports channels and all the leather trimmed high backed mahogany bar stools needed were customers to sit on them.
Ten round table were placed throughout the room and each one sported a crisply ironed white tablecloth and a vase filled with local wildflowers. The walls had been painted a deep current red and antique western art was hung at just the right level.
Trixie had outdone herself hiring absolutely perfect kitchen staff and waitresses for the bar. Diane Tailer had surprised him by not being the dumber than dirt tartalett he had imagined. She was bright, highly competent and quickly turned the bar maids into a team. She was also extremely attractive which was a definite plus in his book. Dressed in her jeans, cowboy boots and white shirt, tastefully accessorized with silver and turquoise jewelry; she made a wonderful first impression to anyone entering the bar.
The bar maids, Daisy, Janet and Rose were the usual blend of ages, dispositions and talent that staffed most bars. But they had one thing in common, the were highly motivated and wanted the place to succeed. The only small thorn, was Lyla Jane Simpkins who was also not what he was expected. Instead of being hard and well used, she was very young, very sweet and not terribly bright. But she was an extremely hard worker; and made up for her deficiencies in the smarts department with her sweet disposition and her eagerness to please. In the two weeks the girls and the kitchen staff were in training, she very quickly became the pet of everyone who worked for him.
So smiling, he crossed the room and opened the door.
Ten round table were placed throughout the room and each one sported a crisply ironed white tablecloth and a vase filled with local wildflowers. The walls had been painted a deep current red and antique western art was hung at just the right level.
Trixie had outdone herself hiring absolutely perfect kitchen staff and waitresses for the bar. Diane Tailer had surprised him by not being the dumber than dirt tartalett he had imagined. She was bright, highly competent and quickly turned the bar maids into a team. She was also extremely attractive which was a definite plus in his book. Dressed in her jeans, cowboy boots and white shirt, tastefully accessorized with silver and turquoise jewelry; she made a wonderful first impression to anyone entering the bar.
The bar maids, Daisy, Janet and Rose were the usual blend of ages, dispositions and talent that staffed most bars. But they had one thing in common, the were highly motivated and wanted the place to succeed. The only small thorn, was Lyla Jane Simpkins who was also not what he was expected. Instead of being hard and well used, she was very young, very sweet and not terribly bright. But she was an extremely hard worker; and made up for her deficiencies in the smarts department with her sweet disposition and her eagerness to please. In the two weeks the girls and the kitchen staff were in training, she very quickly became the pet of everyone who worked for him.
So smiling, he crossed the room and opened the door.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
In Which Introductions and Decisions Are Made - Part 9
"Now Mam, " Harlan wheedled, "this is a small town and word has a way of getting out."
"Don't you dare mam me," Yvette hissed, poking him in the stomach for emphasis.
"Well then Miss," Harlan began and faltered at the stink eye aimed directly at him. "Er Ms." he stammered. And noticing that wasn't going over either, for once was at a total loss for words. Sweating profusely, he stammered, "Well then what in blazes am I supposed to call you? I cain't hardly call you Mr or Sir, seeing as your a lady cat, or at least I think you are."
"You will not address me at all," Yvette hissed. You will keep your large mouth shut for once and listen.
Bending down until her face was directly in front of his, "She whispered, "Do not think that I don't know who it was who felt compelled to stand up at a town hall meeting and allege that I was part of some sex trade ring. I believe the phrase was, that as the high school guidance councilor; I would make it my job to guide the innocent kittens from the school to the bordello." The last phrase was enunciated clearly and punctuated by several jabs to the stomach with her claws.
Harlan paled, and for a puce colored cat that was not easy to do. If he was sweating before, it was nothing compared to the river pouring down his face.
"I wanted to get my lawyer to sue you for slander. But Sheriff Igmeuwkowski convinced me not to. But if in some lame brain attempt to make yourself look less ant like, rumors would filter out about Ms. Tailer and Ms. Simpkins, who are trying to change their lives, I wouldn't hesitate to prosecute you to the full extent of the law. Do I make myself clear." She demanded, poking him three or four more times just in case he had any lingering doubts about the gravity of the situation.
"Now Miss Yvette, I promise to do everything in my power to keep nasty rumors from circulating. You can count on me," He finished with a great deal of hand wringing and sincere emotion.
"Good," she smiled sweetly. "I'm glad we understand each other. Now I expect you to be a regular at Dweezil's and a great help to us all."
"Yes, Miss Yvette, I will Miss Yvette, like I said, Miss Yvette, you can count on me. I will do everything I can to help you all settle in and your restaurant be the talk of the town. In a good way, he stuttered. I mean in a really good way."
"Well I am glad," she said helping him to his feet. "Now tell me, is it true that you can climb up the side of a building like a bat?"
"Don't you dare mam me," Yvette hissed, poking him in the stomach for emphasis.
"Well then Miss," Harlan began and faltered at the stink eye aimed directly at him. "Er Ms." he stammered. And noticing that wasn't going over either, for once was at a total loss for words. Sweating profusely, he stammered, "Well then what in blazes am I supposed to call you? I cain't hardly call you Mr or Sir, seeing as your a lady cat, or at least I think you are."
"You will not address me at all," Yvette hissed. You will keep your large mouth shut for once and listen.
Bending down until her face was directly in front of his, "She whispered, "Do not think that I don't know who it was who felt compelled to stand up at a town hall meeting and allege that I was part of some sex trade ring. I believe the phrase was, that as the high school guidance councilor; I would make it my job to guide the innocent kittens from the school to the bordello." The last phrase was enunciated clearly and punctuated by several jabs to the stomach with her claws.
Harlan paled, and for a puce colored cat that was not easy to do. If he was sweating before, it was nothing compared to the river pouring down his face.
"I wanted to get my lawyer to sue you for slander. But Sheriff Igmeuwkowski convinced me not to. But if in some lame brain attempt to make yourself look less ant like, rumors would filter out about Ms. Tailer and Ms. Simpkins, who are trying to change their lives, I wouldn't hesitate to prosecute you to the full extent of the law. Do I make myself clear." She demanded, poking him three or four more times just in case he had any lingering doubts about the gravity of the situation.
"Now Miss Yvette, I promise to do everything in my power to keep nasty rumors from circulating. You can count on me," He finished with a great deal of hand wringing and sincere emotion.
"Good," she smiled sweetly. "I'm glad we understand each other. Now I expect you to be a regular at Dweezil's and a great help to us all."
"Yes, Miss Yvette, I will Miss Yvette, like I said, Miss Yvette, you can count on me. I will do everything I can to help you all settle in and your restaurant be the talk of the town. In a good way, he stuttered. I mean in a really good way."
"Well I am glad," she said helping him to his feet. "Now tell me, is it true that you can climb up the side of a building like a bat?"
Sunday, July 13, 2014
In Which Introductions and Decisions Are Made - Part 8
"Absolutely not," Dweezil thundered, smacking his paw against the metal fence for emphasis. "I flatly refuse to allow that, that," he paused momentarily and noticed Squig frantically trying to get his attention . He was shaking his head, pointing at Annie with one paw, while zipping his mouth with the other. On some other day this little dance might have been amusing, but after spending three days on a train, he was not in the mood to be amused. However, it was best not to use words like skank or whore in front of his daughter, who would have twenty million questions concerning their meaning; or his mother who would lecture and hector him for days on his lack of tact. So, pasting a concerned look on his face he blandly said, "I would prefer we hire an experience bartender, and I don't think Ms. Tailer has the right credentials for the job."
"Oh but she does," Trixie answered back immediately. "She's been working three days a week as a bartender in Durango and she recently received her associate's degree in hospitality at the local community college. Her references were glowing. I can show them to you when we get unpacked."
"I'll just bet they were," Harlan harrumphed. I bet they were all men weren't they?
And what's going to happen when the town hears that you got one of them cat house girls working behind the bar? Did you think about that? How many decent folks are going to want to come then. It won't matter how fancy the food is, no decent cat's going to want to bring his wife, daughters or girlfriend to your eatery." He nodded primly, just daring them to come up with a reply.
He didn't have to wait long because Yvette extended her claws, grabbed him by the ear and dragged him over to a bench. She then shoved him down and standing over him, with a glare that could stop a bull in mid charge, whispered, "And just how, may I ask are they going to find out."
"Oh but she does," Trixie answered back immediately. "She's been working three days a week as a bartender in Durango and she recently received her associate's degree in hospitality at the local community college. Her references were glowing. I can show them to you when we get unpacked."
"I'll just bet they were," Harlan harrumphed. I bet they were all men weren't they?
And what's going to happen when the town hears that you got one of them cat house girls working behind the bar? Did you think about that? How many decent folks are going to want to come then. It won't matter how fancy the food is, no decent cat's going to want to bring his wife, daughters or girlfriend to your eatery." He nodded primly, just daring them to come up with a reply.
He didn't have to wait long because Yvette extended her claws, grabbed him by the ear and dragged him over to a bench. She then shoved him down and standing over him, with a glare that could stop a bull in mid charge, whispered, "And just how, may I ask are they going to find out."
Sunday, July 6, 2014
In Which Introductions and Decisions are Made - Part 7
Squig felt his blood run cold as he looked over at Yvette. She was giving them all what could only be described as le eye du stinque. He could almost hear hissing now. "So I leave you two imbeciles alone with an innocent kitten for five minutes and what do you discuss? Skanky women and fornication that's what you discuss. Oh yes, you also let her know that it's possible to climb up the side of a building like a bat."
The diatribe would be accompanied with a great deal of claw poking and ear pulling. This was going to make it impossible for him to convince Trixie that he was now a responsible adult and not the layabout slacker he'd been back east.
This was just perfect and he only had himself to blame. He was the guilty one, because feeling sorry for Harlan he'd allowed him to come along to meet the gang. And what did he get for this good deed, a claw poking, ear pulling diatribe, that's what he got.
Now Dweezil on the other hand was completely relaxed. He was not the one who had mentioned skanky women and fornication. He, too, had been shocked and appalled, shocked and appalled. He'd stress that a few times. And while he might have mentioned crawling up the building like a bat, he'd done so as a joke, never thinking that Annabelle would think it was possible. He'd apologize profusely and the whole nasty business would be over in a few awkward minutes.
As for Harlan, he was mesmerized by vision of loveliness standing in front of them. Yvette was wearing a red silk sheath dress which complemented her striking tuxedo coloring, and the fact that she was furious only added a hint of spice to her sultry good looks. Add to this that she had somehow managed to corral several railway employees to carry all of the family's luggage, only added to her incredible mystique.
"Miss Yvette, mam," he said taking off his hat and with a flourish, and then bending over, dramatically bowed down. "It is a pleasure and honor to make your acquaintance."
"Oh be quiet and stand up. You are looking quite ridiculous bent over like that," she hissed and turning to Annie, said, "Now who is it, petite, who has skanky ways?"
"Diane Tailer, " she answered looking up at her, Do you know who she is?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." Yvette said firmly, daring any of the to say one word. "She is your father's new head bartender."
TO BE CONTINUED
The diatribe would be accompanied with a great deal of claw poking and ear pulling. This was going to make it impossible for him to convince Trixie that he was now a responsible adult and not the layabout slacker he'd been back east.
This was just perfect and he only had himself to blame. He was the guilty one, because feeling sorry for Harlan he'd allowed him to come along to meet the gang. And what did he get for this good deed, a claw poking, ear pulling diatribe, that's what he got.
Now Dweezil on the other hand was completely relaxed. He was not the one who had mentioned skanky women and fornication. He, too, had been shocked and appalled, shocked and appalled. He'd stress that a few times. And while he might have mentioned crawling up the building like a bat, he'd done so as a joke, never thinking that Annabelle would think it was possible. He'd apologize profusely and the whole nasty business would be over in a few awkward minutes.
As for Harlan, he was mesmerized by vision of loveliness standing in front of them. Yvette was wearing a red silk sheath dress which complemented her striking tuxedo coloring, and the fact that she was furious only added a hint of spice to her sultry good looks. Add to this that she had somehow managed to corral several railway employees to carry all of the family's luggage, only added to her incredible mystique.
"Miss Yvette, mam," he said taking off his hat and with a flourish, and then bending over, dramatically bowed down. "It is a pleasure and honor to make your acquaintance."
"Oh be quiet and stand up. You are looking quite ridiculous bent over like that," she hissed and turning to Annie, said, "Now who is it, petite, who has skanky ways?"
"Diane Tailer, " she answered looking up at her, Do you know who she is?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." Yvette said firmly, daring any of the to say one word. "She is your father's new head bartender."
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, June 29, 2014
In Which Introductions and Decisions are Made Part 6
"They have a lease, which you signed, that states that you and only you must give them notice and then they have 30 days to vacate the premises," Squig interrupted leaning against the guard rail. "So legally, there was nothing we could do. I'm just glad that only two of the girls decided to stay."
"Actually you only have one that's a problem," Harlan continued, finding his nerve and placing his had back on his head. "It's that Diane Tailer you have to worry about."
He stopped abruptly, noticing the look on Trixie's face. "So," he said looping his claws through his belt and rocking back and forth on his heals. "word of her nasty mouth and skanky ways has spread across this country to the east coast. I'm not surprised, not surprised at all to hear that she's notorious."
"What are skanky ways, dad?" Annie asked pulling on his shirt to get her attention.
"Ways that aren't very nice," he responded distractedly. He had forgotten all about that damn lease. Now he personally was going to have to go over there and evict them. This boondoggle could not be conveniently shuffled off to Sqigman, like he'd hoped.
"Dad do I have skanky ways?" Annie asked pulling on his shirt again.
"No," Dweezil and Squig said in unison.
"Does Uncle Squig have skanky ways?" she asked impishly.
"Watch it Dweeze. Think very carefully before you answer that." Squig said softly narrowing his eyes.
"Why no Annabelle," Dweezil answered benignly, "your uncle has many curious ways, but I wouldn't say skanky was one of them."
"Well then who's got skanky ways," she sang out, hopping around swinging her arms in time to her song. "Do youse and youse and youse got skanky ways. "
"Annabelle that will be enough."
"Grandmom," Annie said swiveling around to face her. This is so cool. "Diane Tailer has skanky ways, but there's no fornication going on in dad's building. Cousin Harlan who's removed crawled up the side of the building like a bat and peaked in all the windows, so he knows.
What does fornication mean and how could cousin Harlan who's removed do that? Does he have sticky stuff on his paws? Do you think he could teach me how to do that even though I don't have sticky stuff on my paws. Could we go buy some sticky stuff, so I could go building crawling with him. I'm so glad we came here. This is so exciting."
TO BE CONTINUED
"Actually you only have one that's a problem," Harlan continued, finding his nerve and placing his had back on his head. "It's that Diane Tailer you have to worry about."
He stopped abruptly, noticing the look on Trixie's face. "So," he said looping his claws through his belt and rocking back and forth on his heals. "word of her nasty mouth and skanky ways has spread across this country to the east coast. I'm not surprised, not surprised at all to hear that she's notorious."
"What are skanky ways, dad?" Annie asked pulling on his shirt to get her attention.
"Ways that aren't very nice," he responded distractedly. He had forgotten all about that damn lease. Now he personally was going to have to go over there and evict them. This boondoggle could not be conveniently shuffled off to Sqigman, like he'd hoped.
"Dad do I have skanky ways?" Annie asked pulling on his shirt again.
"No," Dweezil and Squig said in unison.
"Does Uncle Squig have skanky ways?" she asked impishly.
"Watch it Dweeze. Think very carefully before you answer that." Squig said softly narrowing his eyes.
"Why no Annabelle," Dweezil answered benignly, "your uncle has many curious ways, but I wouldn't say skanky was one of them."
"Well then who's got skanky ways," she sang out, hopping around swinging her arms in time to her song. "Do youse and youse and youse got skanky ways. "
"Annabelle that will be enough."
"Grandmom," Annie said swiveling around to face her. This is so cool. "Diane Tailer has skanky ways, but there's no fornication going on in dad's building. Cousin Harlan who's removed crawled up the side of the building like a bat and peaked in all the windows, so he knows.
What does fornication mean and how could cousin Harlan who's removed do that? Does he have sticky stuff on his paws? Do you think he could teach me how to do that even though I don't have sticky stuff on my paws. Could we go buy some sticky stuff, so I could go building crawling with him. I'm so glad we came here. This is so exciting."
TO BE CONTINUED
Saturday, June 21, 2014
In Which Introductions as well as Decisions Are Made Part 5
Dweezil sauntered over to them with his unique blend of sophistication and nonchalance. Stopping he eyed Squig and Harlan with a gimlet eye and then staring straight at them said, "My my, if it isn't the Lone Ranger and the ever present sidekick, his Holiness the Pope. What brings you to this backwater little place, your Holiness?"
"I, I, I'm not the Pope," Harlan sputtered. "I'm Harlan Katz, Deputy Sheriff."
Squig smiled delightedly as Dweezil hearing the name Katz, narrowed his eyes. This was going to be wonderful.
"Did I hear you say your name was Katz," he hissed, leaning forward with an air of menace, Harlan couldn't help but notice.
"Yes, you did, Dweeze, and I call you Dweeze," Harlan chirped happily, not understanding who he was dealing with.
"No," Dweezil said flatly, "You may not."
"Well on behalf of the entire Katz family, I want to apologize for the sneaky ways of my Aunt Suzette." he continued wrapping a conciliatory paw around Dweezil.
A conciliatory paw that was immediately shrugged off in no uncertain terms.
"I can't thank you enough for closing down that blot on the entire community, Dweeze." He plowed on. "Me and the boss are trying hard to clean up this here place and we couldn't have done it without you buying that cesspit and turning it into something we can all be proud of. Why I wouldn't be surprised if the town didn't name a street or a boulevard after you. Can't you just see it," he stepped away and waved his paw expansively, "Felinerino Street the garden spot of the entire state."
This was not going as planned. Dweezil was looking at Harlan like he was some kind of biblical prophet and not the dumb-ass, annoying big mouth he actually was.
"So, Dweezil said, wrapping his paw around Harlan like they were dear best friends, "I take it you and Squigman have cleaned the house of its resident pests?"
"Well not entirely, Dweeze," Harlan stammered as it began to dawn on him that things might not be going so well.
"Not entirely?" Dweezil asked innocently as his eyes narrowed and his ears went back and he shoved Harlan away "There are miscreants still living in my building?"
"Just tttwo of them." Harlan stammered. He was now wringing his hat in his paws as he tried frantically to think of a way out.
"Just two, hmm." Dweezil responded stepping closer.
"But they're not fornicating." Harlan responded in a rush. "I've been staking out the building and I can promise you there's no fornication going on inside."
"You saw this with your radarlike eyes, did you? Or what is more likely given your puce coloration, is that you, on some moonless night, decided to crawl up the side of the building like a bat and peek in the windows?"
"No sir, Mr. Felinerino I didn't do nothin like that."
"Well then why don't you enlighten me and tell me all about it. I can hardly wait to hear how you can stand there and assure me there's no fornication happening in my building?
"It's like this, " Harlan began.
TO BE CONTINUED
"I, I, I'm not the Pope," Harlan sputtered. "I'm Harlan Katz, Deputy Sheriff."
Squig smiled delightedly as Dweezil hearing the name Katz, narrowed his eyes. This was going to be wonderful.
"Did I hear you say your name was Katz," he hissed, leaning forward with an air of menace, Harlan couldn't help but notice.
"Yes, you did, Dweeze, and I call you Dweeze," Harlan chirped happily, not understanding who he was dealing with.
"No," Dweezil said flatly, "You may not."
"Well on behalf of the entire Katz family, I want to apologize for the sneaky ways of my Aunt Suzette." he continued wrapping a conciliatory paw around Dweezil.
A conciliatory paw that was immediately shrugged off in no uncertain terms.
"I can't thank you enough for closing down that blot on the entire community, Dweeze." He plowed on. "Me and the boss are trying hard to clean up this here place and we couldn't have done it without you buying that cesspit and turning it into something we can all be proud of. Why I wouldn't be surprised if the town didn't name a street or a boulevard after you. Can't you just see it," he stepped away and waved his paw expansively, "Felinerino Street the garden spot of the entire state."
This was not going as planned. Dweezil was looking at Harlan like he was some kind of biblical prophet and not the dumb-ass, annoying big mouth he actually was.
"So, Dweezil said, wrapping his paw around Harlan like they were dear best friends, "I take it you and Squigman have cleaned the house of its resident pests?"
"Well not entirely, Dweeze," Harlan stammered as it began to dawn on him that things might not be going so well.
"Not entirely?" Dweezil asked innocently as his eyes narrowed and his ears went back and he shoved Harlan away "There are miscreants still living in my building?"
"Just tttwo of them." Harlan stammered. He was now wringing his hat in his paws as he tried frantically to think of a way out.
"Just two, hmm." Dweezil responded stepping closer.
"But they're not fornicating." Harlan responded in a rush. "I've been staking out the building and I can promise you there's no fornication going on inside."
"You saw this with your radarlike eyes, did you? Or what is more likely given your puce coloration, is that you, on some moonless night, decided to crawl up the side of the building like a bat and peek in the windows?"
"No sir, Mr. Felinerino I didn't do nothin like that."
"Well then why don't you enlighten me and tell me all about it. I can hardly wait to hear how you can stand there and assure me there's no fornication happening in my building?
"It's like this, " Harlan began.
TO BE CONTINUED
Saturday, June 14, 2014
In Which Introductions and Decisions are Made Part 4
Squig turned and looked directly into Trixie's eyes. She had changed. It was slight, but she had changed. There was a new softness about her. And the only word for how she looked in her cream linen trousers and white silk blouse was elegant. He felt momentarily awkward and at a loss for words.
Blushing slightly, he wrapped his paws around her and gathered her close. Sighing, she melted into him and whispered, "I have missed you so much."
"Me, too," he answered, "I am so damn glad you're here." He was about to kiss her when the harrumphing and throat clearing started up again.
"Miss Pixie," Harlan started, pushing Squig aside and pumping her paw.
"Her name is Trixie," Squig hissed. "How many times do I have to tell you, her name is Trixie, not Pixie."
"Well now Miss Trixie," he started over. "If you ain't the prettiest thing I've seen all year. That photo the Boss has on his desk just don't do you justice. Look at you. All I can say, is that old Sheriff Squigman better keep his eye on you, cause once the cowboys get a good look, there's going to be a stampede over to the restaurant. There's been a drought in this here town and you are like the gentle rains of springtime." The last bit was said with a lot of insincere sighing and many longing glances.
Squig was getting more and more annoyed and felt like getting out his muck boots, since Harlan's bullshit was getting so deep. Then he looked over at Trixie laughing and felt an overwhelming urge to choke him.
"Well now," she smiled, "Aren't you just the flatterer, and giving him a sideways look asked, "And just who are you."
"Oh that's Deputy Katz," Annie replied helpfully. "Only he wants to be called Cousin Harlan, whose removed."
"One of your waifs and strays? "Trixie whispered wrapping her paw around Squig. "How do you manage to collect so many?"
"It's a genetic defect," he grumbled and I'm thinking of contacting NIH and seeing if they'd like to do study, in the hopes of finding a cure. It's either that or form a twelve step program. Or," he thought to himself cheerfully watching his friend exiting the train, "I could just put the whole mess in the very capable paws of Mr. Dweezil Felinerino."
"Welcome to the west, bro," he called out. "I'd like you to meet my deputy, Harlan T. Katz."
"
Blushing slightly, he wrapped his paws around her and gathered her close. Sighing, she melted into him and whispered, "I have missed you so much."
"Me, too," he answered, "I am so damn glad you're here." He was about to kiss her when the harrumphing and throat clearing started up again.
"Miss Pixie," Harlan started, pushing Squig aside and pumping her paw.
"Her name is Trixie," Squig hissed. "How many times do I have to tell you, her name is Trixie, not Pixie."
"Well now Miss Trixie," he started over. "If you ain't the prettiest thing I've seen all year. That photo the Boss has on his desk just don't do you justice. Look at you. All I can say, is that old Sheriff Squigman better keep his eye on you, cause once the cowboys get a good look, there's going to be a stampede over to the restaurant. There's been a drought in this here town and you are like the gentle rains of springtime." The last bit was said with a lot of insincere sighing and many longing glances.
Squig was getting more and more annoyed and felt like getting out his muck boots, since Harlan's bullshit was getting so deep. Then he looked over at Trixie laughing and felt an overwhelming urge to choke him.
"Well now," she smiled, "Aren't you just the flatterer, and giving him a sideways look asked, "And just who are you."
"Oh that's Deputy Katz," Annie replied helpfully. "Only he wants to be called Cousin Harlan, whose removed."
"One of your waifs and strays? "Trixie whispered wrapping her paw around Squig. "How do you manage to collect so many?"
"It's a genetic defect," he grumbled and I'm thinking of contacting NIH and seeing if they'd like to do study, in the hopes of finding a cure. It's either that or form a twelve step program. Or," he thought to himself cheerfully watching his friend exiting the train, "I could just put the whole mess in the very capable paws of Mr. Dweezil Felinerino."
"Welcome to the west, bro," he called out. "I'd like you to meet my deputy, Harlan T. Katz."
"
Sunday, June 8, 2014
In Which Introductions as Well as Decisions Are Made - Part 3
"Well, hi there little lady, welcome to the wild west." Harlan intoned in what Squig thought to himself had to be the worst John Wayne imitation he had ever heard. Wayne's voice was low and masculine and Harlan's was hi and squeaky. Somehow the two just didn't seem to mesh at all.
Annie seemed taken aback, too. She looked up at him thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then extending her paw, said primly. "Hello, Deputy Katz, it's nice to meet you."
"Now, now, what's with all this formality?" He said, thankfully in his own voice. "You and me are going to be really good friends. Now I know, even though you ain't related to the boss, you call him Uncle Squig. So maybe," he stroked his chin while he thought, and then smiling, chirped, "I could be Cousin Harlan?"
Ignoring the two shocked faces in front of him, he continued, "But then since I didn't live with you back east, maybe I could be Cousin Harlan once removed."
"Finally noticing that this was not going over very well," He said, "OK, how about cousin Harlan, twice removed? Don't like that, there's always second cousin Harlan twice removed?"
Squig was at the point of telling him, if he didn't shut up, he was going to be cousin Harlan permanently removed, when an achingly familiar voice purred, "Hi there cowboy, come her often?"
Annie seemed taken aback, too. She looked up at him thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then extending her paw, said primly. "Hello, Deputy Katz, it's nice to meet you."
"Now, now, what's with all this formality?" He said, thankfully in his own voice. "You and me are going to be really good friends. Now I know, even though you ain't related to the boss, you call him Uncle Squig. So maybe," he stroked his chin while he thought, and then smiling, chirped, "I could be Cousin Harlan?"
Ignoring the two shocked faces in front of him, he continued, "But then since I didn't live with you back east, maybe I could be Cousin Harlan once removed."
"Finally noticing that this was not going over very well," He said, "OK, how about cousin Harlan, twice removed? Don't like that, there's always second cousin Harlan twice removed?"
Squig was at the point of telling him, if he didn't shut up, he was going to be cousin Harlan permanently removed, when an achingly familiar voice purred, "Hi there cowboy, come her often?"
Sunday, June 1, 2014
In Which Decisions as Well as Introductions Are Made Part 2
Squig watched as the train pull to a halt, the passenger car door opened and finally the conductor stepped out and lowered the stairs. It only took a few minutes and then a small bundle of fluffy white fur, dressed in a red and white polka dot sundress exploded onto the platform. With her paws waiving, and her legs churning, she was a study in perpetual motion.
"Uncle Squig-a-wig, Uncle Squig-a-wig, I have missed you so much," she exclaimed as threw herself into his waiting arms.
"I've missed you too Annie Banannie," he purred holding her close to his heart. "Let me take a good look at you," he continued, holding her at arm's length. "I believe in the three months I've been here, you've grown. You sure you're my Annie Banannie and not some grown up who's hidden her somewhere?"
"It's me," she laughed hopping down. "Is it true that you're a real Sheriff? Do you have a gun and a horse? Have you gone after any bad guys and varmints? Do you have a posse? Do you live at the saloon?" She asked excitedly all in one breath.
"If you have a horse, can I ride him. Dad and Grandmom said that you're not going to be living with us anymore. Can I live with you at the Saloon? Are the dance hall girls nice? Should Miss Trixie be jealous. Can I learn to shoot a gun. Will you teach me how to shoot a gun and ride a horse."
Squig laughed heartily, barely able to catch up with her nonstop chatter and nodding his head in the negative, said, "Sorry sweet pea the answer to all of your questions is no."
She stood back and cocking her head to one side like a small, serious fluffy white owl, said, "Well can I wear your hat? Can I be a junior deputy and wear a star? When can I see your new house Is there a room for me in it?"
"Yes, yes, soon and yes," Squig chuckled. He was about to tell her all about his new apartment and ask her about her trip west, when he was interrupted by someone standing behind him, loudly harrumphing and clearing his throat.
He swiveled around to find Harlan standing impatiently, with his right paw extended and a thoroughly fake smile pasted on his face.
"Oh yes," Squig remarked with a certain degree of nervous trepidation, "Annie I'd like you to meet my deputy, Harlan T. Katz. Harlan this is my niece, the one and only Annie Felinerino."
TO BE CONTINUED
"Uncle Squig-a-wig, Uncle Squig-a-wig, I have missed you so much," she exclaimed as threw herself into his waiting arms.
"I've missed you too Annie Banannie," he purred holding her close to his heart. "Let me take a good look at you," he continued, holding her at arm's length. "I believe in the three months I've been here, you've grown. You sure you're my Annie Banannie and not some grown up who's hidden her somewhere?"
"It's me," she laughed hopping down. "Is it true that you're a real Sheriff? Do you have a gun and a horse? Have you gone after any bad guys and varmints? Do you have a posse? Do you live at the saloon?" She asked excitedly all in one breath.
"If you have a horse, can I ride him. Dad and Grandmom said that you're not going to be living with us anymore. Can I live with you at the Saloon? Are the dance hall girls nice? Should Miss Trixie be jealous. Can I learn to shoot a gun. Will you teach me how to shoot a gun and ride a horse."
Squig laughed heartily, barely able to catch up with her nonstop chatter and nodding his head in the negative, said, "Sorry sweet pea the answer to all of your questions is no."
She stood back and cocking her head to one side like a small, serious fluffy white owl, said, "Well can I wear your hat? Can I be a junior deputy and wear a star? When can I see your new house Is there a room for me in it?"
"Yes, yes, soon and yes," Squig chuckled. He was about to tell her all about his new apartment and ask her about her trip west, when he was interrupted by someone standing behind him, loudly harrumphing and clearing his throat.
He swiveled around to find Harlan standing impatiently, with his right paw extended and a thoroughly fake smile pasted on his face.
"Oh yes," Squig remarked with a certain degree of nervous trepidation, "Annie I'd like you to meet my deputy, Harlan T. Katz. Harlan this is my niece, the one and only Annie Felinerino."
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, May 25, 2014
In Which Decisions as Well as Introductions are Made
Squig stood on the platform looking down the tracks. The three o'clock train from Denver was due any minute. For once,He had taken all kinds of pains with his appearance, his badge and his boots were shined to a high gloss. His shirt and jeans were clean and crisply ironed. But maybe more importantly, instead of his old familiar Oriole baseball cap, he now sported a genuine cowboy hat. Yes, he had tried hard and felt now, at least he looked the part of a real western Sheriff. Although Dweezil would probably have something to say about that.
As he waited for the train that would bring his family to Katz City he tried in vain to ignore Harlan who had insisted on coming along. Harlan, too, had gussied himself up; but the effect of white boots, white, pants, white shirt and white cowboy hat complete with white feather against his puce colored fur was a bit much. Squig was trying to decide whether he looked like the weakest link on some kind of angelic chain, or like he was planning on applying for a job down at Lovely Larry's used car lot, when Harlan opened his mouth and started up again.
"So let me get this straight, boss." He chirped happily, counting off Squig's family members and their various relationships. "Dweeze is your best friend and Yvette is his mother. Now Annie is his adopted daughter and even though she's no relation to you, she calls you, Uncle. Did I get that right?"
Squig nodded yes.
"And the other cat who's coming with the group is Pixie,"
"Her name is Trixie, not Pixie" Squig harrumphed.
"Oh yes, Trixie is that hot looking babe whose picture sits on your desk and who calls you everyday. Boy am I looking forward to meeting her." He winked broadly and poked Squig in the ribs. "Do you think she's bringing any sisters with her who might want to meet little old me." The last bit was said with eyes open wide and purr embedded in his voice.
"That way," he continued elbowing Squig in the ribs, again, you and me could go on double dates."
"No, " Squig sighed for the forty fifth time, "she is not bringing any sisters, cousins, friends or acquaintances. She is coming by herself to help Dweezil set up his restaurant.
"But she might know some girls, " Harlan insisted.
"Harlan, " Squig said through gritted teeth, "You tell me how she's going to know anybody when she's never been here. "
"But she might meet some girls, make some friends, and then she could introduce me and we could go on double dates."
"Why, Harlan, I didn't know you were interested in the lovely Miss Tailer," Squig said in all innocence, with a smile. "Once Trixie's met her, maybe she could set you up. You two go way back, so it wouldn't be too hard."
"Very funny, boss, you're just hilarious." The rest of whatever else he had planned to say was cut off by the shrill whistle as the train pulled into the station. Finally, they were there.
TO BE CONTINUED
As he waited for the train that would bring his family to Katz City he tried in vain to ignore Harlan who had insisted on coming along. Harlan, too, had gussied himself up; but the effect of white boots, white, pants, white shirt and white cowboy hat complete with white feather against his puce colored fur was a bit much. Squig was trying to decide whether he looked like the weakest link on some kind of angelic chain, or like he was planning on applying for a job down at Lovely Larry's used car lot, when Harlan opened his mouth and started up again.
"So let me get this straight, boss." He chirped happily, counting off Squig's family members and their various relationships. "Dweeze is your best friend and Yvette is his mother. Now Annie is his adopted daughter and even though she's no relation to you, she calls you, Uncle. Did I get that right?"
Squig nodded yes.
"And the other cat who's coming with the group is Pixie,"
"Her name is Trixie, not Pixie" Squig harrumphed.
"Oh yes, Trixie is that hot looking babe whose picture sits on your desk and who calls you everyday. Boy am I looking forward to meeting her." He winked broadly and poked Squig in the ribs. "Do you think she's bringing any sisters with her who might want to meet little old me." The last bit was said with eyes open wide and purr embedded in his voice.
"That way," he continued elbowing Squig in the ribs, again, you and me could go on double dates."
"No, " Squig sighed for the forty fifth time, "she is not bringing any sisters, cousins, friends or acquaintances. She is coming by herself to help Dweezil set up his restaurant.
"But she might know some girls, " Harlan insisted.
"Harlan, " Squig said through gritted teeth, "You tell me how she's going to know anybody when she's never been here. "
"But she might meet some girls, make some friends, and then she could introduce me and we could go on double dates."
"Why, Harlan, I didn't know you were interested in the lovely Miss Tailer," Squig said in all innocence, with a smile. "Once Trixie's met her, maybe she could set you up. You two go way back, so it wouldn't be too hard."
"Very funny, boss, you're just hilarious." The rest of whatever else he had planned to say was cut off by the shrill whistle as the train pulled into the station. Finally, they were there.
TO BE CONTINUED
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Closing Down the House - Part 3
"Now, Lyla, honey, I don't want you to worry about having no place to go." Harlan said, rushing over to her side and taking her paw in his. "I can go and bunk in with Larry and Uncle Dave and you can have my place. I only got one key and I'll give it to you, so you don't have to worry about me coming in to bother you."
"Ah Harlan, that is so sweet of you, " she responded looking up at him.
"Sweet, but not necessary," Diane stated emphatically, as she removed Harlan's paw and pushed him away. Then reaching into the pocket of her kimono, she brought out a folded up piece of paper, and unfolding it said, "Because what I have here is a lease, signed by Mr. Felinerino. And it says and I quote, 'Mr. Felinerino can, at any time, give any of the tenants of his building a 30 day notice to vacate. And at the end of that 30 day period, said tenant must have vacated the premises.'"
Looking over at Squig and eyeing him up and down, she continued, "and I believe that you are Sheriff Igmeuwkowski, and not Mr. Felinerino. So until said Mr. Felinerino tells us we have to go, we stay. And once he does, we have 30 days to find a new place."
"Can I have that lease," Squig asked, crossing the room then taking it out of her hands, he looked it over. That was
Dweeze's handwriting on the signature and she had quoted the verbiage accurately. She was right. They had 30 days from the day Dweezil told them to go. The fact that at the time he signed it, Dweezil thought he was dealing with his wait staff and not hookers was irrelevant. They could stay.
"You're right," he conceded, handing the lease back to Diane. "You don't have to leave until 30 days after Mr. Felinerino tells you to. But I want you to remember there will be no, and I mean no fornication on this premises."
"And I'm going to have my spy eye on you," Harlan huffed pointing to his eye. I'm going to be sitting right outside this building watching who goes in and what's going on. You ain't going to be able to sneeze, that I don't know about it."
He leaned forward for emphasis and pointing his finger at them, declared, " and if any of you think that you're going to be able to sneak back into your fornicating ways, like I'm not around, well there will be a price to pay. I'm going to be all over you like white on rice. And you ain't going to have to worry about where you're next residence will be, because the lot of you will be residing in the city jail."
"Harlan T. Katz," Diane said dryly to the girl standing next to her, "hashtag scary, peeping pervert."
And with that the room erupted in laughter, as each girl envisioned what Harlan, with his spy eye on them would look like. In response Harlan puffed himself up again and Squig was so busy trying not to laugh, he almost missed the small white paw waving at him.
"Mr. Sheriff, sir, I have another question, Lyla asked, loudly, trying to be heard above the commotion.
"Yes, Lyla," Squig said fighting back the laughter that was threatening to get the better of him.
"What does fornimication mean?"
Squig stopped cold as his face turned a color of red, somewhere between a tomato and a beet. How on earth was he going to answer this without sounding like a pompous ass or more likely a jerk. Then he remembered something Dweeze had once said, and so he replied, "Well Lyla, fornication is another word for a very familiar four letter word, which starts with the letter f and rhymes with luck."
"Oh, " she responded as the meaning of the word became clear. "Oh my, that might be a problem."
"Diane Tailer, hashtag skankazoid," Harlan screamed jumping up and down. "Diane Tailer, hashtag, evil skankadella."
And with that, Squig clamped his paw over Harlan's mouth and strong armed him out the door, before this situation disintegrated further and he was forced to charge him with inciting a riot.
"Ah Harlan, that is so sweet of you, " she responded looking up at him.
"Sweet, but not necessary," Diane stated emphatically, as she removed Harlan's paw and pushed him away. Then reaching into the pocket of her kimono, she brought out a folded up piece of paper, and unfolding it said, "Because what I have here is a lease, signed by Mr. Felinerino. And it says and I quote, 'Mr. Felinerino can, at any time, give any of the tenants of his building a 30 day notice to vacate. And at the end of that 30 day period, said tenant must have vacated the premises.'"
Looking over at Squig and eyeing him up and down, she continued, "and I believe that you are Sheriff Igmeuwkowski, and not Mr. Felinerino. So until said Mr. Felinerino tells us we have to go, we stay. And once he does, we have 30 days to find a new place."
"Can I have that lease," Squig asked, crossing the room then taking it out of her hands, he looked it over. That was
Dweeze's handwriting on the signature and she had quoted the verbiage accurately. She was right. They had 30 days from the day Dweezil told them to go. The fact that at the time he signed it, Dweezil thought he was dealing with his wait staff and not hookers was irrelevant. They could stay.
"You're right," he conceded, handing the lease back to Diane. "You don't have to leave until 30 days after Mr. Felinerino tells you to. But I want you to remember there will be no, and I mean no fornication on this premises."
"And I'm going to have my spy eye on you," Harlan huffed pointing to his eye. I'm going to be sitting right outside this building watching who goes in and what's going on. You ain't going to be able to sneeze, that I don't know about it."
He leaned forward for emphasis and pointing his finger at them, declared, " and if any of you think that you're going to be able to sneak back into your fornicating ways, like I'm not around, well there will be a price to pay. I'm going to be all over you like white on rice. And you ain't going to have to worry about where you're next residence will be, because the lot of you will be residing in the city jail."
"Harlan T. Katz," Diane said dryly to the girl standing next to her, "hashtag scary, peeping pervert."
And with that the room erupted in laughter, as each girl envisioned what Harlan, with his spy eye on them would look like. In response Harlan puffed himself up again and Squig was so busy trying not to laugh, he almost missed the small white paw waving at him.
"Mr. Sheriff, sir, I have another question, Lyla asked, loudly, trying to be heard above the commotion.
"Yes, Lyla," Squig said fighting back the laughter that was threatening to get the better of him.
"What does fornimication mean?"
Squig stopped cold as his face turned a color of red, somewhere between a tomato and a beet. How on earth was he going to answer this without sounding like a pompous ass or more likely a jerk. Then he remembered something Dweeze had once said, and so he replied, "Well Lyla, fornication is another word for a very familiar four letter word, which starts with the letter f and rhymes with luck."
"Oh, " she responded as the meaning of the word became clear. "Oh my, that might be a problem."
"Diane Tailer, hashtag skankazoid," Harlan screamed jumping up and down. "Diane Tailer, hashtag, evil skankadella."
And with that, Squig clamped his paw over Harlan's mouth and strong armed him out the door, before this situation disintegrated further and he was forced to charge him with inciting a riot.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Closing Down the House - Part 2
"Are we all clear about my last point, that there will be no fornication, what so ever at all on the premises?" Squig asked looking each girl directly in the eyes."
"Mr. Sheriff, sir, I have a question," a small voice asked from the back of group.
"Step forward and ask away," Squig responded as a tiny white cat came to the front. She was wearing jeans, a pink sweater with a heart embroidered on the front and didn't look old enough to be in this line of work.
"And your name is,"
"Lyla Jane," Harlan whispered in his ear. Her name is Lyla Jane Simkins"
Squig almost jumped. When had Harlan crept up on him? He would have to speak to him later about that, but now he had to deal with this.
"So what about that is unclear," he asked.
"Mr. Sheriff, sir, what is a premises?"
"That is a very good question, and I want us all to be very clear about what I mean. The premises I am referring to is this building and all of the rooms contained therein. That means this bar and restaurant, your bedrooms and sitting areas, the kitchen and the basement. It also refers to the roof, the sidewalk out front and and the alley out back. There will be no fornication anywhere at any time in any area I just mentioned.
And to make that easier for you, a certain website entitled, 'The Katz City Escort Service has been shut down."
"You can't do that," someone shrieked.
"No I can't," Squig shot back. But Mr. Felinerino can and has. Since the location of this so called escort service is the Katz City Cafe and Mr. Felinerino owns the Katz City Cafe, he has instructed his lawyer to do whatever was necessary to remove it and as of today, it is no longer operational."
Squig paused momentarily to see how that news was sitting and seeing that no one had tossed a chair in his direction, decided it was time to drop the bomb.
"So, considered that your source of income has now dried up, you girls aught to consider moving to a new location. Let's see today is Friday." He paused and smiled at them. "I think by Monday every last one of you should be out of here."
"But Mr. Sheriff, sir," Lyla asked wringing her paws. "What if this premises is our home and we ain't got nowhere to go."
Squig hadn't thought of that and was at a complete loss for words. It hadn't occurred to him that any of the girls might end up homeless. He was caught between the rock of his conscious and the rock that was Dweezil.
TO BE CONTINUED
"Mr. Sheriff, sir, I have a question," a small voice asked from the back of group.
"Step forward and ask away," Squig responded as a tiny white cat came to the front. She was wearing jeans, a pink sweater with a heart embroidered on the front and didn't look old enough to be in this line of work.
"And your name is,"
"Lyla Jane," Harlan whispered in his ear. Her name is Lyla Jane Simkins"
Squig almost jumped. When had Harlan crept up on him? He would have to speak to him later about that, but now he had to deal with this.
"So what about that is unclear," he asked.
"Mr. Sheriff, sir, what is a premises?"
"That is a very good question, and I want us all to be very clear about what I mean. The premises I am referring to is this building and all of the rooms contained therein. That means this bar and restaurant, your bedrooms and sitting areas, the kitchen and the basement. It also refers to the roof, the sidewalk out front and and the alley out back. There will be no fornication anywhere at any time in any area I just mentioned.
And to make that easier for you, a certain website entitled, 'The Katz City Escort Service has been shut down."
"You can't do that," someone shrieked.
"No I can't," Squig shot back. But Mr. Felinerino can and has. Since the location of this so called escort service is the Katz City Cafe and Mr. Felinerino owns the Katz City Cafe, he has instructed his lawyer to do whatever was necessary to remove it and as of today, it is no longer operational."
Squig paused momentarily to see how that news was sitting and seeing that no one had tossed a chair in his direction, decided it was time to drop the bomb.
"So, considered that your source of income has now dried up, you girls aught to consider moving to a new location. Let's see today is Friday." He paused and smiled at them. "I think by Monday every last one of you should be out of here."
"But Mr. Sheriff, sir," Lyla asked wringing her paws. "What if this premises is our home and we ain't got nowhere to go."
Squig hadn't thought of that and was at a complete loss for words. It hadn't occurred to him that any of the girls might end up homeless. He was caught between the rock of his conscious and the rock that was Dweezil.
TO BE CONTINUED
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Closing Down the House - Part 1"
Against his better judgement, Squig had allowed Harlan to go upstairs and bring down the girls. He had begged and Harlan was a master at widening his eyes and embedding a purr in every word when he wanted something. He argued that since he was local and probably knew all of them, the girls would find it less threatening to see him rather than the Sheriff knocking on their doors. Well it might have been less threatening, but familiar was certainly noisy, if the commotion he was hearing floating down the stairs was any indication.
Squig was at the point of going to rescue Harlan, when he saw him herding the girls into the bar. He looked completely done in. His clothes were in disarray, his cowboy hat
and it looked like one of them had slapped him with her claws out.
and it looked like one of them had slapped him with her claws out.
"Hello ladies," he said with what he hoped was a friendly but firm tone of voice.
"Good morning Sheriff," they replied flatly, sounding more than a little annoyed.
"Now I'm sure that all of you are aware that prostitution is against the law in the state of Colorado. And it has been alleged that the Katz City Cafe is operating as a front for a bordello."
"Alleged my ass," Harlan spit out. "This here place has been a whore house for over 100 years."
"And your family's been running it the whole time, so just don't you start moralizing," hissed a tall white voluptuous cat in a bright red kimono.
"Excuse me miss," Squig asked in his friendly but firm tone of voice, "what is your name?"
"And your family's been running it the whole time, so just don't you start moralizing," hissed a tall white voluptuous cat in a bright red kimono.
"Excuse me miss," Squig asked in his friendly but firm tone of voice, "what is your name?"
"Diamante," she purred. "That's Aetalian for..."
"Nothin," Harlan spit out. "Your name ain't Dinomighty and you ain't Aetalian. I went to high school with you and your name is Diane Tailer, hashtag, slut."
"Oh," she whispered, adjusting the sash of her kimono. I believe I remember you. Aren't you Harlan T. Katz, hashtag, loser."
"Diane Tailer, hastag, trash bag." Harlan squawked, laying back his ears and swishing his tail.
She paused momentarily, carefully examined her deep red nails for any microscopic chip and then with a sideways glance and and a soft chuckle said, "Harlan Katz, hashtag, douche bag."
Squig was concerned. The girls were laughing hysterically and if Harlan puffed himself up any larger, he was in real danger of splitting his pants. So sighing deeply and with his friendly but firm tone of voice, said, "I'm sure we'd all like to sit around reminiscing about high school, but I think it's time we returned to the subject at hand, Now where was I." He said and began ticking off his talking points.
"Point one, prostitution is against the law in the state of Colorado. Point two, for a number of years the Katz City Cafe has been operating as a front for a bordello. Which brings me to point three. From this day forward, there will be no, and I mean no, fornicating on the premises,
"Point one, prostitution is against the law in the state of Colorado. Point two, for a number of years the Katz City Cafe has been operating as a front for a bordello. Which brings me to point three. From this day forward, there will be no, and I mean no, fornicating on the premises,
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Thus far Squig had had an exemplary week. First, he's signed up for an online course on Colorado law enforcement. Then he'd driven over to the office supply store in Durango and bought some high end printable business cards. That evening he created what he thought to himself was an extremely classy card. It read:
Squigman "Squig" Igmewkowski, BS
Sheriff, Katz City, CO
302-911-5678
email: call911Squig@cmail.com
Feeling magnanimous, he'd created the following card for Harlan:
Harlan T. Katz
Deputy, Katz City, CO
302-911-5678
email: call911Harlan@cmail.com
Harlan had almost cried when he gave them to him and spent the rest of day staring at his new cards. He even sent one to his mother in Florida.
Then armed with their new cards they called on all the businesses in town and the ranches that were in their district. Yes, they called on all of the business, except one and that one was becoming a problem. Every morning Squig received his wake up call from Dweezil demanding to know if he'd shut that whore house down and every evening he received his end of day call demanding to know if he shut that whore house down. So on Friday, he decided today was the day.
"Harlan," he said looking over at his deputy who was sitting with his boots on his desk,
reading the paper. "today is the day we close down the cat house."
Harlan snapped to attention and marching over to the gun cabinet, unlocked it and started bringing down semi automated weapons. He was in the middle of strapping on his bullet proof vest, when Squig commented, "Harlan will you put those guns away, we're just going to talk to the girls. I've been reading the file on the place, and There hasn't been any trouble over there in the past and I'm not anticipating any trouble today."
"You cain't never be too prepared, boss." Harlan said pushing two pistols in his waistband."
"Harlan," Squig barked, if you don't put those guns down, I'm going to send you over to the Hairston's Ranch. They've reported a wild turkey creating trouble for their chickens, and I will go to the whore house by myself."
"But, Boss," Harlan whined.
"You have a choice. You can put the guns back in the cabinet and come with me. Or you can go as you are down to the ranch and deal with that turkey."
"But, Boss."
"I don't have all day, Harlan, make up your mind. What's it going to be, the cat house or the chicken coop."
"All right," he moped putting back the guns, ammunition and bullet proof vest. "But if we run into trouble, Boss, you just remember that I warned you."
"I'll be sure to do that. Now come along, I want to get this over with."
TO BE CONTINUED
Squigman "Squig" Igmewkowski, BS
Sheriff, Katz City, CO
302-911-5678
email: call911Squig@cmail.com
Feeling magnanimous, he'd created the following card for Harlan:
Harlan T. Katz
Deputy, Katz City, CO
302-911-5678
email: call911Harlan@cmail.com
Harlan had almost cried when he gave them to him and spent the rest of day staring at his new cards. He even sent one to his mother in Florida.
Then armed with their new cards they called on all the businesses in town and the ranches that were in their district. Yes, they called on all of the business, except one and that one was becoming a problem. Every morning Squig received his wake up call from Dweezil demanding to know if he'd shut that whore house down and every evening he received his end of day call demanding to know if he shut that whore house down. So on Friday, he decided today was the day.
"Harlan," he said looking over at his deputy who was sitting with his boots on his desk,
reading the paper. "today is the day we close down the cat house."
Harlan snapped to attention and marching over to the gun cabinet, unlocked it and started bringing down semi automated weapons. He was in the middle of strapping on his bullet proof vest, when Squig commented, "Harlan will you put those guns away, we're just going to talk to the girls. I've been reading the file on the place, and There hasn't been any trouble over there in the past and I'm not anticipating any trouble today."
"You cain't never be too prepared, boss." Harlan said pushing two pistols in his waistband."
"Harlan," Squig barked, if you don't put those guns down, I'm going to send you over to the Hairston's Ranch. They've reported a wild turkey creating trouble for their chickens, and I will go to the whore house by myself."
"But, Boss," Harlan whined.
"You have a choice. You can put the guns back in the cabinet and come with me. Or you can go as you are down to the ranch and deal with that turkey."
"But, Boss."
"I don't have all day, Harlan, make up your mind. What's it going to be, the cat house or the chicken coop."
"All right," he moped putting back the guns, ammunition and bullet proof vest. "But if we run into trouble, Boss, you just remember that I warned you."
"I'll be sure to do that. Now come along, I want to get this over with."
TO BE CONTINUED
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