Noodles Malone
Act 6: Brass Knuckle Bar, a Dizzy Dame, and Deodorizer Lube.
After putting on the new flange and bag, I decided to get some shut-eye before the drive back to the bar. Drifting off to dreamland, I mused about Grandma "Bag Man."
Brought back memories of my youth and Grammy Malone. I remember it clearly. On her hospital deathbed, family gathered around. She motioned for me to come close. I looked into her rummy eyes. She rasped, "Noodles, I got some life advice for ya." "Don't stir the pot." Her eyes closed as she wheezed her last breath. I looked to Mom and Dad. They shrugged their shoulders. I asked my sis, "Don't stir the pot?" She looked at me blankly. I muttered, "I must be adopted. This can't be my real family." Then noticed Mom and Dad taking off their belts. I quickly exited "stage left."
After a fitful couple of hours, I woke up, showered, shaved, and took a gander at my beat-up legs. "Stupid old bag," I muttered.
Putting on my fedora, I was about to leave. Then remembered, gotta pack some D lube, there might be trouble.
The bar parking lot was half full as I pulled in. Sat at my usual perch. Started with some Wild Turkey. The first shot was raspy and burned all the way down, just as I like it. Looking around, just the usual suspects. I grinned as I thought about having another poke at the drunken bum who dissed me last time. After 4, or was it 5? shots... I was saucy. Turning around to demand another shot, a voice was in my ear. It was the ditzy dame. I nearly fell off the bar stool. I hissed, "You got a lot of nerve showing up here after getting me whacked." She was all coy and apologetic. "Oh Noodles," she purred, "I'm so sorry. Let me make it up to you." "I'll get you all al dente." My ears immediately perked up. I looked into her eyes and noticed one of her contacts was missing. She now had one blue eye and the other black. How funny, I mused, black and blue, like my legs.
I told Elroy the barkeep to put the turkey on my tab. "C'mon babe, we got some cookin' to do."
Walking through the parking lot, the dame was all over me like a... OK... I'm gonna say it... a wet noodle. As we reached the caddy, who is standing there... HER, the Bagman! I was in no mood for pleasantries. "Beat it, I got some private detective work to do." She raised her cane... I pulled out my trusty deodorizer lube, she took a shuffle forward, I pulled up the spout. "One more move and POW, right in the kisser," I barked. Then, not wanting to chance fate... I squeezed the bottle. Instantly covered her in thick lube. She tried to smack me, but the cane slipped out of her hand. Dizzy dame grabbed it. Quickly we jumped in the caddy, fired it up, and roared off.
After we stopped laughing... I pulled over for a warm-up kiss. Now this... is more like it.