Lisa and I turned the corner. Across the street was a nondescript brick building with a single door, guarded by a little girl in leather. Lisa whispered to me.
"This is the Clean Plate Club," she told me.
"This?" I croaked. "It just looks like a damn warehouse!"
"Looks can be deceiving."
Then this young punk came walking up to the little girl. I recognized him at once. He was Knuckles, the toughest punk to swim the pond. They say he wasn't as much as born as ripped from his mother's womb full-grown. After having to leave England after despoiling the late Queen Mum, he came to our mean city to terrorize our fair queens. Many a punk lay groaning after giggling when he said he was hard. He would give you a black eye for even looking at him, and that was when he was in a good mood. He was no good.
His muscles gleamed as he walked up to the little girl. Though he toward over her, the girl didn't even blink an eye. I couldn't here what they were saying. Then I heard the girl yell "No way mister!" I knew what was going to happen next. I went to go help her, but Lisa held me back.
"Watch," she said.
Then, before I could blink, Knuckles was sprawled across the street, bawling like a baby. He had a pretty shiner and a bloody nose like a fire hydrant on a summer's day in the lazy city. You could hardly believe that this was the man who made the Queen cursed. The girl whipped her red ponytail out of her face and towered over the fallen punk.
"Let that be a lesson to you: No means no!" she sneered.
"Okay, Miss Dolly!" he sniveled, "Don't hurt me!"
Lisa turned to me and smiled.
"We used to date," she bragged.
"So I guess she'll be upset about me going out with you," I said.
She looked at me funny.
"We aren't going out," she said.
"But what about that thing at the dock?" I asked.
"That was to distract the guards."
"But the zucchini..."
"It was going to go bad anyway."
"And the cigar!?"
"Who are you, Freud?" she sputtered, "Look, you're a nice guy, but sex doesn't mean anything. I'm a porn star, remember."
I remembered that I had met her on the set of "Babes in Sex Toyland" after following a clue on the back of a head of cauliflower in Chapter 3. Despite her hard exterior, I had a feeling she would confess her love sometime in Chapter 25. Or maybe Chapter 66. Sometime before the goat orgy.
We crossed the street. Dolly looked up from the punk and immediately blushed. Suddenly, she was a nervous schoolgirl, giggling and trying to hid the blood on hands. Lisa was just as cool as a cucumber that's spent a month in the freezer after the bacchanalia and before Grandma discovers it and use it in a salad to everyone's embarrassment.
"Hello Dolly," she breathed.
Dolly then cried, "Oh, Lisa, I've counted the day and the hours and I lost track of the minutes but please I love you!"
"It's been a year, hasn't it?" Lisa asked.
"Only 364 days, my love!" she replied.
|
Then the man of the hour appeared. The owner of the Clean Plate Club wasn't how I expected him, but that wasn't a surprise anymore. He was short, bald, and wore a powder blue leisure suit zipped down to show his hairless chest. I hadn't expected the hairless part. He looked at Knuckles, and looked up to Dolly approvingly. Dolly nodded. This was enough for the laconic businessman. He then looked at us.
"Goo," he said stoically.
He waddled to the door and turned to us.
"Gaa," he added for clarification.
We walked to the door, following the baby.
"Don't leave me again!" yelled Dolly, "I have season one of Buffy on DVD!"
We ignored and continued into the fabulous Clean Plate Club. Behind me, I could hear Dolly wail.
"My insurance covers same-sex partners! Please come back! Please....please....please...okay, let's spend some time apart."