Attending: Ant-ny, Cash, José, Panama, Pastor, Scribe, Silent Bob,
Solomon, Tango, Wimmer
It was a happy Maserati Friday. With the fresh threat of a
crusty-hillbilly-nautical-preppy brawl now looming, Pastor ordered the wearing
of Table 14’s new fancy “colors” (courtesy of and in profuse thanks to Rick DiPiego)
in a show of force. Next on the list is the creation of a symbol (most possibly
a half-eaten chicken wing) and a handshake (very likely the exchange of $12).
The automotive division of Delivery Dudes was on the edge of
their metaphorical seats for the results of the Panama-Solomon over-the-phone
antique car auction. Panama and Solomon were determined to buy with a folio of
cars in front of them yielding the false impression of belaboring an hour-long
decision between the chowder and the crab cakes. Unfortunately, the proceedings
came to no avail as the owner of the vehicle did not appear at the War Memorial
to sell his WOP—I can say that because I am one—chariot. It’s a shame, too,
because at least one Doublemint Twin was likely in the market for one of
Panama’s cars.
José dropped a few acquaintances at the airport earlier in the
day and swears he “heard something.” Those reading this for posterity must know
that, around the same time, some Jujube unpacked his suitcase in FLL baggage
claim, loaded his gun, and horrifically shot eleven people at point-blank range. The Fort
Lauderdale bomb squad also blew up a suspicious package. If his real estate career
should come to a late-stage demise, José certainly has a bright future with the
Fort Lauderdale police in their Auditory Forensics Task Force.
Speaking of suspicious packages, Pastor declared himself the
official Sssussspiciousss Package Inssspector of Table 14. Should he continue “faking”
his effeminacy—by mode of speech and its underlying content—at his current clip,
he is on notice that within a year’s time his nickname will be Gay Pastor or
possibly Pastor But Rodeo Confessional. He can certainly protest or maybe even
filibuster, but we suspect he’d rather fill it 'til it busts.
In other news, Silent Bob is regular—always good to know.
Ant-ny has a buyer for his property, the contract adorned with a cornucopia of “Einhorn
contingencies.”
And in closing, the Table 14 mantra for the week is: "Burns! ... Burns! ... Burns! ... What?!?!"
