The Big GenChat Caper

 

 

 

by Roger Humes

 

Chap. 1

 

Lightning flashed, thunder lumbered through my head like the sound of several bowling lanes greeting the tender ears of a hangover. I trembled as I reached for my pack of coffin nails.

My hands shook when I lit up and inhaled the delightfully noxious fumes deep into my lungs. The room was dimly lit  and the match glowed off my fingers, reflected on the wall, showed me what a hole my new office was.

Things had changed a lot of late in this crummy little  cyburg. For one, I had quit my job as piano player at the Tahiti Lounge, a pleasant little backwater dive located a few doors down from ChatControl. The pay hadn’t been great, the customers a little surly at times, but I had liked the place. It was where I hung my hat, where I worked and lived.

Alma had sold the joint to Daybreak12, the woman who had broken my heart like a toddler tearing up his father’s remote. I could live with that. Life had taught me how to swallow my pride like a chicken bone caught sideways in your throat. However, Daybreak kept forgetting  to pay me. I think she still owed me for two months. She offered to make it up in trade, but even I have my pride. I had walked that path before and wasn’t about to put the token in that toll slot again.

So I resigned and moved into this office. Twinkletoes5, my secretary, still stopped by every day to do the paperwork, pay the bills, wash out a few things, and look after me in general. However, a lot of the time I was alone, and I wasn’t used to being alone.

I took a deep drag of the numbing smoke, picked up my bottle of mineral water, and moved to the window. Outside it was as dark as my mood. The street lights weren’t working again, but then a lot of things weren’t working, including me, and my rent was due the next Monday.

Daybreak’s purchase of the Tahiti wasn’t the only change around here. A few months before, Gil Bates, the most notorious gangster in ChatWorld, had jumped the modem and taken some equipment with him. I never found out what he took, but it had helped him to assume the identity of one of the most powerful men in the computer business. His first act had been to purchase ChatWorld.

Since then everything here had gone down the drain on a handcart to hell’s toilet. Tech staff had been cut to the bone, and things no longer ran right, as if they ever did in the first place. For example, there had always been some freezes in here, where everyone and everything would just stop for a few minutes or sometimes hours. Now on a daily basis the place locked up like my bowels after a good Italian dinner.

I checked my watch. It said 8:30. That didn’t mean much since it was always 8:30 in here. I figured I had about six more hours before Twink showed up. A man could smoke a lot of coffin nails and drink a lot of mineral water in six hours. He could also go to the bathroom quite often, too.

Things looked as grim as a schoolboy encountering a quiz in subject where he had never cracked the book. I was contemplating a trip to a local pub for something a little stronger when suddenly I was roused by the sound of a knock on the door.

 

*****

 

When ChatWorld was created one of the unforeseen consequences was that pieces of people’s emotions and thoughts flaked off and floated around the place like a rummie on an ether binge. Eventually, these flakes cohered and formed cyber-beings. Few people were able tell these beings, who became known as “flakes”, from those who came to the rooms from out there.

I’m one of those flakes. The name is Moonlight, Al_B._Moonlight. As I said, I used to be the piano player at the Tahiti Lounge. I also had a detective agency on the side. It was now my full-time job, but if things didn’t start picking up soon if was going to have to learn to say “and do you want fries with that, sir?”.

 

*****

 

As I walked toward the door, I could see silhouetted through the dingy frosty pane a shape like most men only encounter in their dreams before they wake up to a slightly damp set of sheets. I only hoped that it was a case and not some dame a collection agency had sent because they knew how hard it was for me to say no to a good set of legs.

I fumbled at the door, finally remembered to pull it open, not push it out, and has nearly knocked over by the sight that assaulted my eyes like a bag of wet Jell-O. She was about my height, built solid like a brick crapper, but had one of those shapes like an Italian sculpture. Her lips were as luscious as a hot fudge sundae and her eyes had that “what can I do to you next?” look. I could think of plenty of things.

Suddenly my stomach plunged like a drunk diving for the porcelain god. I knew this dame from the Tahiti. We had had our run-ins, some of them not unpleasant. The woman owned a tongue that could move in many directions at once. She also had more notches on her gun handle than Wyatt Earp. She was a good case of the bytes waiting to happen. Her name was JetteBabe.

“Hello Albie,” she sneered swishing by me with a sway to rival a California earthquake. “Well, I see that your taste in decorating matches your taste in clothes.”

She moved to the tattered recliner in the corner of the room and threw my extra set of clothes on the floor. Ceremoniously, JetteBabe sat down and looked at me expectantly. The look always made me feel uncomfortable, like I was supposed to be doing something but didn’t quite know what.

I offered her a swig off of my bottle of mineral water. She looked at me in disdain,  reached in her purse, and pulled out a can of Old Ethernet beer. I was amazed. Her lack of manners was matched only by her paucity of taste in booze.

“So what’s up, sweetheart?” I asked as I lit up another coffin nail.

“Albie, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot sister.”

“You live in ChatWorld and are actually a flake, right?”

“You got it, doll.”

“Then why do you talk like something out of a 30’s detective novel? I’ve never understood that.”

I shrugged and sat down on the edge of my desk where I could get a better view of her legs. If the conversation was going to go nowhere I at least wanted to enjoy the scenery.

“So Jette, what brings you to my office?  Bored at the Tahiti and looking for a little action on the side?”

“You wish Albie. I’ve told you before you’re not my type. I prefer men who at least bathe. No, as much as I hate to admit I need your help. I’m in trouble, and, as we know, the word in the rooms is that when you’re in trouble go see Al_B._Moonlight...”

“That’s true, sweetheart, trouble is my middle name. Actually, I have no middle name, only an initial...”

I dodged the ashtray she threw at me, admiring how her significant platform jiggled in the process.

“Okay, so what’s the scoop, the dope, the story on the eleven o’clock news, doll?”

“It’s the Tahiti, Albie. There’s rumor of a hostile takeover.”

“I know, Daybreak bought it.”

“Why don’t you just let the water flush under the bridge? No this is different. The Bates Boyz are leaning hard on her.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Albie! Listen! It isn’t just her. They’ve taken hostages: SadieMoo, Wallflower, ChipaWhey, and even my latest, Darn_Satan...”

“Too bad, sister,” I said between puffs, “don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“And they’ve taken the piano...”

“Okay, that does it! Even a flake can only take so much! Consider me on the case. Of course it will cost fifty cyber-bucks plus expenses.”

“Deal, Albie.”

I stubbed out my nail, put the cap on the bottle of mineral water, picked up my hat, and walked to the door. I waited for JetteBabe to go out first so I could get a good view of that carriage of hers as she moved it along.

It was time for a little visit to the Tahiti.
Chap. 2

 

I followed Jettebabe through the door into the Tahiti. The sound of chat engulfed me like syrup covering a waffle:

·      thecoyone says, "singeldiety Hey what's up?"

·      Cleverpainter says, "AL...MY GOD I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER"

·      Mewriter says, "hi al"

·      Jettebabe sways to the bar, orders an Old Ethernet

·      You say, "i don't come here often"

·      Carjak tries to hug Al hello stranger, how ya been?

·      Mewriter says, "i saw blood when i cut myself shaving"

·      You tell Daybreak12, "i'm only here to check on the missing piano"

·      Cleverpainter pops Slip upside de head

·      Daybreak12 tells you, "ok"

·      singlediety leaves.

·      Daybreak12 rummages behind the bar.

·      Cairn__ leaves, heading for the MeetMarket.

·      Daybreak12 says, "Carjak .. come help"

·      Cub_Reporter will have an Irish Coffee, thank you.

·      Daybreak12 says, "Carjak.. tstop yappin & get to work.."

·      thecoyone says, "it's such a nice day out!"

·      Keokuk leaves, heading for The Baths.

·      Zoltar says, "Bing am I to old for you, smiles"

·      Carjak asks what would everyone like?

·      Iced_tee enters.

·      Cleverpainter giggles at Slip

·      Copper66 will have a Candian Coffee, Thank you.

·      thecoyone says, "good...."

·      Cleverpainter (((((HUGS TO ALL)))))

·      JetteBabe pours Old Ethernet  in her coffee

Some things, like a good case of foot fungus, never change. One of them is the bantering in the Tahiti. I thought if you added up the i.q.s of the crowd  you might come up with a number about the size of Daybreak’s cup size. Still, something about it was like going home to mother.

I automatically moved to my old table. There were  a couple of chat-wanna-be-lovers sitting there. I told them to go find a private room and kicked them out. JetteBabe sat down with me, and we waited to be served.

By the time the waitress, Carjak, finally got around to us my mood was about as dark as the lighting in the room. She politely pointed to my coffin nail and to the new “No Smoking” sign that hung just below the “No Age/Sex Check” sign. I in turn politely pointed the middle finger of my right hand at her and ordered a mineral water. Jette asked for another Old Ethernet.

“Well, Albie,” Jette said while stealing a drag off my coffin nail, “seems like old times, huh? All we need to be going is groping each other madly, or punching each other out...”

“...or both.”

“You know, Albie, if you ever got off your high horse we could be a pretty good team, like Burns and Allen, Crosby and Hope...”

“...Booth and Lincoln.”

She sighed and turned to her drink. I stared at the bare stage stripped of its piano like a tree laid naked by a overly hormonal beaver. I could pretty much give a rat’s ass about the people the Bates Boyz had taken hostage. Frankly, in a place like this they were merely cannon fodder. There were plenty more where they came from.

But the piano set my rancheros to boiling. I had done everything on that piano except commit an act of bestiality with a panda and in my pre-mineral water days I might have done that. I started to vow to have my revenge when I was interrupted by the sight of the most stunning set of arguments in ChatWorld making their point.

“Hi Daybreak,” I sighed as I braced like a masochistic patient in a sadistic dentist’s chair.

“Hello, Moonlight, how goes the detective business?” she asked as her perfume assaulted my nose like a jackhammer.

“Not bad,” I answered between puffs, “Jette here just hired me for a job.”

“Gee, and you refused such ‘work’ from me. Tsk, tsk, now you’ve lowered yourself to her standards.”

Jette and Daybreak locked eyes, glaring icicles and innuendoes at each other. I sat between them and had a good idea how a cape felt at a bullfight. Jette picked up her beer. I could see she was contemplating whether throwing it would be a waste of booze. Daybreak stood with her hands on those hips that I knew had ground better men than me into submission.

The lounge became so quiet you could hear an anvil drop. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and watched. I stood transfixed by the two magnificent bodies in front of me. Only one thought stayed in my mind. I tried to choke it down but it erupted like a gulp of warm sloe gin.

“Cat fight!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Everyone was looking at me like the naughty school boy caught passing gas. Jette and Daybreak jumped on me and started trying to depants me. I struggled but it was a doomed effort, especially once Daybreak got those legs locked around my chest. I had encountered those thighs before and lost every time.

Suddenly a shot rang out. One of the patrons, Cub_Reporter, grasped his leg and fell to the floor. I spied two dark shadows - one tall and lumbering, the other short and twisted - sprint out the fire exit.

I picked my hat up off the floor, dusted off my coat, looked at the women and said, “Well, I guess it’s time I go to work.”
Chap. 3

 

As I stepped out the door I lit up another coffin nail, delighted by the numbing sensation it brought to my entire body. I shuffled down the dimly lit street, trying to miss the piles of refuse that lay on the sidewalk and in the gutter. Bates had also cut the maintenance staff to the bone, and the place was always a mess.

I noticed that a growing number of business were now closed with To Open Under New Management signs hanging in their windows. Not many of the private rooms were open either. In the past they went like hot potatoes at the county fair: Mamma’s_in_the_Kitchen, Rocky_Looking_For_Peachfuzz, Leather,Leather,Leather, etc. Now they were closed tighter than a nun’s crotch. The neighborhood has going downhill.

My feet carried me aimlessly to the destination I had in mind. Every gumshoe has a place where he can put his ear to the rail  and his finger on the pulse of the situation. I had mine. It, too, had changed ownership but was actually opened for business.

The room used to be Rick’s Cafe. It had been one of those restaurants where the grease laid as thick on the floor as in your arteries. Recently, it had been sold and reopened as The Master Chef. There was a certain pretentious air to the place, but at its heart it was still the little steak and eggs with a friendly cup of joe dive it had always been.

As I entered the sounds of chat mixed with the aroma of the food:

·      Al_ready says, "do you know john39?"

·      Angel_381b sits and pouts with cayrn

·      Cayrn orders her and Angel a coke

·      Ladidi69 wants a coke too cayrn

·      D-p is here, but just not talking much

·      Angel_381b thanks Caryn and smiles

·      Caryn hands Di a coke too

·      Ladidi69 smiles in appreciation

·      D-p says, "brb"

·      Caryn says, "k"

·      Yellowcat89 says, "Al_ready r u talking to me"

·      Cayrn  says, "brb too"

·      Angel_381b sits, pouts and drinks her coke

·      Al_ready leaves.

·      Mimi_30 is back

·      Cadman23 enters.

The dreary atmosphere seemed to match the rest of GenChat, but I paid about as much attention to it as a husband to his wife during Monday Night Football. I was looking for one person in particular and could give a flying leap about the bunch whimpering around the counter.

Then I saw him, one of the oddest figures to ever cross over the modem into ChatWorld. He was the owner of The Master Chef. Tall and lanky yet rather stuffed in his ill fitting tuxedo, his story sent chills down the spine of even the most hardened chatter. His name was The_Cook.

The story, as I remembered it, was that out there he had been a simple cook plying his trade from estate to estate. Then he hit upon a plan. Using his culinary arts he starved to death some and fattened others into docility. In the end he married the heiress and became the master of the estate with his former employers working devotedly for him.

At least that is what I believed had happened. One of the problems being a flake is that you are a collection of other people’s thoughts and emotions. The story could have been true or it could have been from some obscure novel. I was never sure and, frankly, no longer worried about it very much.

In the old days I had come to Rick’s Cafe looking for WeazelBoy, a slimy little snitch who would have sold his own mother for a pack of coffin nails and a pint of Scuzzie Scotch. However, Weaz had bought a ticket on the trolley  to the Big Chat in the Sky.

Now, I came here to see The_Cook. He seemed to know every piece of dirt that came down in GenChat. If anyone knew the dope, the scoop, the skinny on the situation it would be him.

“Hi Cookie,” I said as I walked up to him.

He looked down his nose at me and asked, “Reservation for one?”

“Cookie I just need to bend your ear a little.”

“Reservation for one?”

I sighed and greased his palm with a cyber-lincoln. He would give the info I wanted if he had it, but first he always insisted on playing this little game.

“Ah yes...Moonlight...table for one by the...,” he looked down at the abe and continued, “by the kitchen. FishWarf, please seat this gentleman.”

I took my seat and looked at the menu. At the prices they charged I decided to stick with a cup of joe. I checked the water glass and dinnerware. At least they were clean these days.

The waiter brought my java. About the time the cup was lukewarm The_Cook joined me. He plopped down and immediately started wolfing down a large meal. It never ceased to amaze me how he ate and yet stayed so thin.

“Well, Moonlight, what can I do for you today?” he asked between bites. He ate like a pig but at least he had manners and didn’t talk with his mouth full.

I slipped a cyber-jackson under his plate and said, “Things are getting stranger than a Democratic senator applying for the priesthood. Businesses closed down, GenChat going to the potty for the dogs, you know the score. Now the Bates Boyz are leaning hard on Daybreak...”

“Who hasn’t?”

“I know, Cookie, but they’ve kidnapped chatters, stolen my old piano, and now they shot a chatter right in the lounge. How come they don’t bother you?”

“Let’s just say I have an ‘arrangement’.”

“You paying protection money?”

“Do untamed pontiffs defecate in the shubbery?”

I bit back saying anything about him stealing my lines and asked, “So what’s the news, the gist, the lowdown on all this?”

He picked up the andy, slipped it into his vest pocket, and looked at me expectantly. I slid another jackson his way.

“It is like this, Moonlight,” he said as he piled into his dessert, “Bates is setting GenChat up for something big. I’m not sure what, but he’s trying to buy out every business in here. I have an arrangement for now, but there is an agreement that when I’m told to scoot, I leave with no questions asked.”

“So that’s all you know, and it cost me forty-five  for that.”

“Forty-eight fifty plus tip. Don’t forget you have to pay for the coffee. Sorry, that’s all I know...but I can steer you to someplace where you might find out more...”

I sighed and slipped him my last abe. This was getting expensive, and if he didn’t get give me something better I was about to hang him out with the laundry and the baby’s bathwater.

“There’s a room that has been bought out...remember For Gaelic Only?”

“Yeah, I stumbled in there once. I still have nightmares about the soccer songs.”

“Well, I have been told that room is headquarters for this entire operation. You may find out more there. But, Moonlight, be careful. Do you know who’s running this show for Bates?”

“No.”

“It’s your old nemesis, TwytstedPair.”

I felt my rancheros shrivel up and try to crawl up inside my body. TwystedPair and I had been adversaries for a long time. I still carried the scars on my rectum from one of our encounters. Last time I had barely gotten out alive when Bates jumped the modem. Still, I saw no way out of it. I had to find the piano.

“Thanks, Cookie. We’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first, ha, ha.”

I declined the complimentary after dinner mint and strolled out of The Master Chef. The visit had cost me nearly my entire roll. I decided to head back to the office and see if Twink was in and bum a few bills from her. She knew I was good for it.

I turned and headed down the street, dodging the pieces of paper that tried to wrap around my face. Suddenly, I stopped and stared at one flier that I was ready to throw away. It read:

 

NOTICE OF INTENT TO VACATE:

THIS ADVISE THAT THE GenChat #3 OFFICE BUILDING HAS BEEN SOLD. ALL TENANTS ARE HEREBY GIVEN SEVEN DAYS TO VACATE THE PREMISES. ALL WHO DELAY BEYOND THIS DATE ARE BEGGING TO BE DOG WASTE.

 

That was the location of my office. I had not heard anything about it before. In fact, kindly old Mr. Tosh had seemed very happy just the other day when I talked to him. Something smelled like last week’s diaper. I hurried toward my office.
Chap. 4

 

When I arrived at the office building I noticed old Mr. Tosh was having a discussion with some goons. He was losing the debate badly. Luckily, they weren’t the overly large variety  so I figured I could handle the rebuttal for him.

“Excuse me,” I said as reached in my pocket and wrapped my right hand around the roll of quarters I had for playing the slots later, “but this seems terribly  unfair to me. Mr. Tosh is a nice old gent, even if he is one brick short of a full load. Wouldn’t you rather finish this in a more peacable fashion?”

“We’s’ll shows yas, peactible!” one screamed spitting into my face.

“I gather from your poor vocabulary and beggaredly dental hygine that you must be some of the Bates Boyz.”

“Yez, faggut! An’ now we’s are gunna cuntinue dis with yas!”

I ducked his swing and came up with the roll of quarters into his sternum. Immediately, I swung my hand down and connected with the second one’s left knee cap. The third one froze, his mistake. I grabbed a garbage can lid and introduced it to his face. The second was starting to try to get up so I connected the toe of my right shoe to the soft skin under his chin. He went out like my Uncle Elmo on Christmas Eve.

“Thanks, sonny,” Mr. Tosh said as he dusted himself off, “ten years ago I would have taken those coots myself!”

“Sure, Pops. I hate to see an unfair fight. Rubs my grain the wrong way up the backside.”

“Call me Mac, sonny. They wanted me to sell the building to them. I had said yes but changed my mind. This is all I got left. You know my life wasn’t alway like this, running a beatup building in a rundown neighborhood. I once had power. I held the computer world in my grasp. I had the ultimate operating system....”

“Sure, Mac,” I said quietly as he spun off into his story.

I had heard his tale before and sometimes wondered if it was true, but not today. The light was on in my office, and I could see a shape through the window that made me ache down to my heels.

“Yes,” he rambled on, oblivious to me starting to walk away, “I had it all, but I got too greedy. Tried to make everyone do it my way. Then that rascal Bates came along. He stole my system, my ideas. Now he wants my building too...say...Moonlight...”

“Yeah, Mac?”

“Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime.”

“And about your rent due next Monday? Well, I heard you’re a little tight.”

“Tighter than than 34D bra on a 42C chest.”

“Well, don’t worry. You got until Tuesday now.”

“Thanks, Mac,” I said as I walked through the door and headed up the steps.

 

*****

 

I opened the door to the office and couldn’t believe it was no longer the shambled mess I had left earlier. The place was as tidy as a bookkeeper’s bank account. Everything had been picked up, the furniture  dusted, and the window was ajar allowing what passed for fresh air in GenChat into the room. Through the cracked door into the bathroom I could see my other set of clothes had been washed and were hung up to dry.

I pushed in the door and spied Twink sorting through my bills. She was wearing a light blue cotton dress that showed off those magnificent legs of hers. Her long blonde hair lay loosely across her chest which moved in a not unpleasant manner.

The sight made my eyeballs fall into my pockets. There were a lot of good looking women in ChatWorld, but, frankly, few of them could hold the paper sack that Twink’s lunch came in. I would have used the word stunning, but it would have been totally inadequate.

I coughed. Twink looked up with a beaming smile and ran across the room to me. She stopped at the agonizing point that seemed to be the line between us: close enough to perk my interest, far enough to make my rancheros ache. I could really fall for that dame, but I was only a flake. She had a real life out there. I had no idea why she wasted her time on  me.

“Oh, Al,” she gushed, “you’re back!”

“True as hitting a nail on the fanny,” I said as I lit up a coffin nail, “and I see you’ve picked up again.”

“Oh, Al, it was such a mess. Sometimes I swear you you don’t live like a person, you live like a bear.”

I shrugged as I went to the icebox to get a bottle of mineral water. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating and making me a little weak kneed. I had to sit down and clear my head.

“So what’s up Twink?” I asked while attempting to hide the fact I was sweating like a race horse and breathing hard like a heavy smoker who just an up four flights of stairs to cop a view of the only one in this crazy cyber-universe that he cared about.

“Well, Al, just going through these bills of yours. I swear it’s hopeless! You barely could make ends meet when you worked at the Tahiti. Now the loss of that job plus the rent on this place. I just don’t see how you can make it.”

She let out a sigh. I was watching her chest and nearly fell out of my chair.

“Well,” I said as I cleared my throat, wiped my face, and shifted to a more comfortable position, “there’s always the band.”

“Oh, Al, that band never gets jobs. You’re lucky if they get to play a benefit.”

“We do have a gig tonight.”

“Really?” she beamed nearly blinding me with that flashing smile, “Where is it? What does it pay?”

“Well, it’s at the MeetMarket. And it really doesn’t pay, just one of those pass the hat things. But it’s a start.”

“Oh, Al, I just don’t know what I’m going to do with you. And I suppose she will be singing with you?”

“Rose, yeah, she’s our vocalist.”

Twink let out a jagged sigh. I thought I saw the glimmer of a tear in her right eye, but it was probably from the dust in the room. I decided maybe I could perk her up with the news of the new case.

“Oh, I got a new case, Twink.”

“Really, Al? That’s great! What is it, and what does it pay.”

“The usual fifty, plus expenses...”

“I told you you needed to increase your retainer.”

“Old habits die hard, Twink. Anyway, JetteBabe hired me to look into the problems in the Tahiti.”

“Oh, her. And I suppose that means you will be seeing that Daybreak woman? I still want to claw her eyes out for what that hussy did to you!”

“That’s eggs in another bucket, Twink. And as for Jette, she’s a looker but I’d trust her about as far as a prostitute would trust Jack the Ripper.”

I noticed her hand tremble as she sighed raggedly again and said, “That never stopped them or you before, Al.”

Twink was decidedly aggitated. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Maybe she was interested in me, but I couldn’t see why. I had no idea why she even bothered being my secretary when I couldn’t pay her piddle.

She walked across the room and stood staring down at me. My eyes looked up that great body and were locked in her gaze. As she leaned toward me I had a good idea how Tokoyo felt when Godzilla was on the way. I closed my eyes and waited.

Suddenly, even through my closed eyes I saw a flash of light. It was followed by a thundering explosion that knocked Twink into my lap. She felt like she belonged there as her curves molded to my body. I buried my face into her hair for an instant delighting in the sweet fresh aroma. Then I had to get up to see what had happened.

Through the window I spied a car blazing on the street. There was man on fire screaming in agony next to it. As he collapsed I realized it was old Mr. Tosh. Well, he won’t have to worry about his operating system anymore, I thought.

I heard a car door slam. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw the shadowy shape of a sedan scream around the corner. I wasn’t sure of the color but had a good idea.

I looked at Twink. She was terror  stricken. She probably needed to be held, but I didn’t have time for that. I put my mineral water back into the icebox and picked up my hat.

“I’ll be back in a little while, Twink.” I said as I walked to the door.

“Oh Al, where are you going now?”

“Gonna go nose around. Something just isn’t kosher, and I want to know who left the ham in the kitchen.”

I bummed a cyber-jackson from Twink before I left. I almost kissed her on the cheek but decided it would just be a waste of time. What would she want with a joe like me?

As I scooted around Mr. Tosh’s body on the street, I wondered why anyone would have wanted to off the poor old duffer. It made no sense, he was harmless. Something didn’t smell right, and I knew for sure it wasn’t Denmark.

I also wondered if this meant I could stall a little longer on coming up with the rent.
Chap. 5

 

I decided to head back to the Tahiti and see what was up there. It was starting to rain. I put up my collar at the traffic  light while watching some idiot do his Gene Kelly impression. It takes all kinds to make a chatworld, I thought, as I viewed him splashing merrily  in the puddles until he was blindsided by a cab.

 When I opened the door to the lounge the eruption of chat hit me like tobacco juice from  the lips of some crazed java junkie. Jette was “holding court”:

 

·      Syddlebyrn says, "to shoot my computer then myself"

·      PistonfromDetroit1968 should leave before he gets in trouble

·      JetteBabe looks at Piston....runs over and grabs him and says PLEASE don't go

·      PistonfromDetroit1968 looks at Red, smiles , think you know

·      CMe3PO huggles him

·      JetteBabe looks at piston

·      Syddlebyrn says, "I have a distinct chance of being disabled for the rest of my life"

·      The___Sot grabs a bottle of crown

·      JetteBabe watches piston

·      RedOooLaLa looks at Piston in The corner

·      CMe3PO sits on kastanza

·      JetteBabe looks at Coke....what the heck are YOU looking at?

·      MissingKittens says, "DUDLEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

·      The___Sot says, "i am so sorry syddle"

·      Dead_PurpleDinosaur looks at Jett

·      Dave_Dudlee says, "hi ladys"

·      Syddlebyrn says, "I'm fed up at the world right now"

·      MissingKittens jumps up and down

·      Coke__Slut says, "Looks like nothing to me!"

·      JetteBabe will not be pushed....

·      JetteBabe says, ";shoves Coke in the tiki pool"

·      Dead_PurpleDinosaur looks at Jett again....

·      The___Sot says, "you have my email right?"

·      Coke__Slut grabs jette's by the hair and drags her in

·      JetteBabe slaps Coke

·      JetteBabe laughs HA!

·      PistonfromDetroit1968 cant watch this

·      Dave_Dudlee picks kitty up and scratches her

·      Coke__Slut knocks Jette one upside the head

·      Corn_Wholeo smiles and winks at jette

·      MissingKittens prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs

·      Coke__Slut graps on to Pistons arm

·      JetteBabe gets the WHACKING stick out!

·      Syddlebyrn says, "I have an internal infection to top it off"

·      Kastanza passes Jette a can of woop ass

·      Coke__Slut graps the whacking stick

·      JetteBabe knows that Coke hasn't aCLUE as to what it's for

·      E-Lane says, "WB WHOLEO"

·      PistonfromDetroit1968 asks Red for this dance

·      Dead_PurpleDinosaur tries to buy Daybreak a drink

·      JetteBabe slams Coke into the wall and goes to the bar

·      Daybreak raises a condescending eyebrow at Dead_PurpleDinosaur

·      Kastanza is havin a time noticin him self at the moment

·      Kastanza says,  “LOL”

·      Coke__Slut slams a bottle of whiskey over jette's head

·      E-Lane says, "lololololol@kastanza"

·      RedOooLaLa says, "I can not believe  Coke is fighting for piston"

·      Dead_PurpleDinosaur stares at Piston

·      JetteBabe interupts this fight for a message from her sponser

·      E-Lane tells RedOooLaLa, "i don't think jette can believe it either."

·      Coke__Slut says, "What is it Jette?"

·      The___Sot says, "so syddle......wanna share this bottle of crown?????"

·      Daybreak12 listens to JETTE?

·      JetteBabe . o O ( excuse me...but did i say anything about a WORD from Coke?...no i didn't )

·      The___Sot says, "i know syddle......"

 

I  shook my head as I sat down at my table. It was good to see that Jette hasn’t lost her touch. She had all the subtlety of a Libyan diplomat. I ordered her an Old Ethernet and me a mineral water while she threw Coke__Slut out one of the windows.

Jette came over and sat down with her legs far apart. She nodded, picked up the beer, downed it, and let out a long belch. Since she was wearing a rather short skirt I forgave her crudity.

 “Well, Albie,” she said as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve, “is that a roll of quarters in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?”

“A roll of quarters. I was going to play the slots later.”

She sighed and grabbed the waitress by the arm as CarJak walked by. I felt sorry for the kid. Jette was hard to take even if you were used to her. For someone new to ChatWorld it was like waking up on Thanksgiving morning and seeing my Aunt Millie naked by your bed.

“So, Albie,” she said after polishing off her latest brew like a marine spit shining his boots, “what brings you here? Slummin’ again?”

“No, just nosing around. Anything happen since the shooting?”

“Not much. Daybreak did hire a new band,” she said as she ordered another beer.

I looked at the stager and winced. I knew the group: The Cyber-Buncha Polka Dudes. They played an annoying polka/surf rock fusion. As they broke into a polka version of “Little Deuce Coupe” I told Jette the news about Tosh.

“That’s interesting,” she said as she inhaled still another Old Ethernet. That woman drank like she sweated and neither sight was pretty. “Let me check with our ‘proprietor.’ I think there’s something you need to know.”

I looked across the room and saw Daybreak. She was walking toward us with her latest catch. I recognized them, BuffBoyWhore1 and BuffBoyWhoreB. I had seen them around here before. They were a couple of eighteen year olds who could type all night, but if they blew their noses their heads would collapse.

“Hello, Moonlight, Jette,” she said while proudly showing off her wares.

“Hi, Day,” Jette replied, while she ordered another beer and gave Daybreak a look that could have frozen Santa’s shorts.

She continued, “Showing off your latest round of bytebait? Didn’t you know they had extended the Mann Act to ChatWorld?”

“Tsk, tsk, sweetie,” Daybreak replied, “and I see you are stuck with my last week’s laundry.”

“Cut the crap, honey. I threw one tramp out the window and wouldn’t be above doing it again. We just need some information. It seems old Mr. Tosh was just killed.”

“You mean the old guy who owned #3? He offered me a quarter once to look at his war injury.”

“Wow! And that’s more than you usually make in one of your sessions. Anyway, didn’t he tell you something about that building once?”

“Let’s see...” Daybreak mused while biting her lower lip.

My memory flashed back, and the front of my pants got damp and tight.

“Oh, yes, I remember...he told me if he ever died he was going to will the building to Twinkletoes...” she said with a quiet grin on her face.

“What??!!” I interjected.

I tried to stand up and walk, but after looking at Daybreak something was caught uncomfortably in my pants. It wasn’t the roll of quarters.

Jette laughed uncontrollably with beer spewing from her nostrils. She fell off her chair and rolled on the floor. I was tempted to kick her in the ribs, but I remembered what she did to Coke__Slut and held my foot.

“Well, Albie,” she said as she got back in her chair, “looks like the shoe has a new pair of socks. But that is neither here nor there. We need to discuss our case.”

“Yes,” said Daybreak as she sat down with us.

“Wait a minute, our case? You know I work solo,” I said while wiping the sweat from my face. The chat pheremones from this pair were so thick you could cut them with a butter knife.

“Albie,” Jette said between gulps, “this is too important to be trusted to the likes of you. We pay so we play. We decided to bury the hatchet someplace besides in each other’s back for a little while. Daybreak will stay here and keep her nose to the ground. I’ll come with you. Take it or we’ll find someone else who will.”

“Okay,” I sighed, knowing which side of the butter my bread was on.

“So what’s our first move?”

“Remember a room called For Gaelic Only?”

“Remember it? Hell, I polished off many a beer and door knob in that place.”

“Well, I have a tip we should check it out. Let’s go.”

I paid our tab and left a modest tip. Jette stood and swayed to the door. I followed her to get a better view. As we went outside she took hold of my arm. I wasn’t sure if it was for affection or because she was too drunk to walk.

We turned right and headed down the street.
Chap 6

 

We crept up to the room as quiet as church mice in running shoes. The place was boarded up tighter than a Scotsman on St. Patrick’s Day. I scouted around and discovered an open window on the second floor.

In an nearby alley I found an old rickety wooden ladder. While Jette powdered her nose I lugged the ladder to the room and propped it up against the wall. I stood back for her to go first.

“What are you waiting for, Albie?” she asked.

“After you sweetheart. A gentleman always let’s a lady go first,” I replied while I lit up a coffin nail and inhaled the sweet acrid fumes deep into my lungs.

“No way, Maynard! Number one: you want me to go first so you can look up my dress; number two: whoever goes first has a much better chance of getting shot; number three: Al_B._Moonlight, you are no gentleman.”

“So?”

“So, I am not going first, you are!”

“Sorry, kid. There are two ways to do this. The wrong way and...”

“The way of the person is paying you for this job! Either you do first or you better get use to sucking grease off fry baskets because that’s all the work you’ll be finding around GenChat!”

I sighed,started to climb, and mutterd “well you’re no lady either” under my breath. She had a point, though, and, for all practical purposes, she had my rancheros in a vice. I needed this job, no ifs, ands, or “why me’s?” about it. It was do as she she said or start shopping for a cardboard condo.

I climbed through the window into a room that was as black as my mood on April 15. I stopped and Jette bumped into me. I felt a hand grope around me and cop a good feel of my rancheros which made me jump like a spastic frog.

“Sorry, Albie,” she said, “force of habit. And you do have more than a roll of quarters in there...”

I reached into my coat and pulled out two flashnights. I turned mine on and handed the other to Jette. The room was musty and littered with the usual trash I had come to expect when dealing with the Bates Boyz. When it came to housekeeping they made me look like Martha Stewart.

Sometimes when I encounter a tense situation my thoughts wander like a hitchhiker in Iowa with a Missouri map. It ends up in a strangest places as it was doing now. I knew I probably shoouldn’t mention what came to mind but couldn’t help myself.

“Jette?” I whispered.

“What, Albie?” she hissed like the serpent she was.

“I was over at Ktown’s the other night, and he had on the t.v. They we’re playing this old Abbot and Costello routine, ‘Who’s On First.’” You ever seen it?”

“Of course, who hasn’t? Why?”

“I didn’t get it.”

“What do you mean you didn’t get it? What’s to get?”

“Well, for instance, who is on first?”

“Who.”

“Yes?”

“Who is on first.”

“Beats me, that’s why I asked you.”

 “Albie, Who is on first.”

“Look, doll, if I knew I wouldn’t ask you.”

“Moonlight, WHO IS ON FIRST!!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t know.”

She tried to choke back the words but they flew from her like a wife throwing crockery at her husband, “I Don’t Know is on third.”

“What?”

“He’s on second.”

“Who’s on second?”

“...NO...ALBIE...WHO’S ON FIRST! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, okay. Just one thing Jette.”

“What, Albie?”

“I still don’t get it.”

She screamed and threw her flashlight at me. I ducked and watched it skid across the room, stop, and spin a slow lazy circle. When it was finished circling it shone on a large sign which read GRAND OPENING!!!!!!

I walked over to the sign and attempted to ponder its meaning. I knew it was somehow tied up in this sordid business going on in GenChat. Grand Opening, but grand opening of what? What set of boxcars did Bates have up his sleeve this time?

Suddenly, behind me I heard a muffled cry . I whirled to see Jette in the grasp of a large lumbering shadow. Then I felt  a stabbing pain in my left kidney and heard a sisnister twisted chuckle.

I went down like a prom queen after a condom. Everything started to fade and go dark.
Chap. 7

 

I awoke with a pounding headache in my kidney. I knew we were in trouble just as I recognized I would be passing blood for the next week. It was a taut jam my pickle was in this time.

I noticed that I was laying in a rather tight dark spot that moved a lot. I surmised it was the trunk of a car, probably a certain sedan with which I was all too well acquaintained. As for taut jams and pickles I noticed I was tied face first to Jette, and she was moving back and forth against me in a not totally upleasing manner.

“Oh, hi, Albie,” she grunted into my face with Old Ethernet laden breath.

“Trying the loosen the ropes?” I asked as I endeavored to ignore the swelling in the front of my pants.

“No, just keeping myself entertained. You know, Albie, you really are slime but there is a certain attraction  to you. Maybe I just want to take you home and brush your teeth. I don’t know. But this does seem to be a moment to satisfy my curiosity. I mean, we’re not going anywhere and don’t have anything else to do...”

Then she clamped onto my mouth with the suction of belljar and slid a tongue into my mouth that had more moves than a Romanian gymnyst. I suddenly forgot I was trussed up in the trunk of a car and quite likely on my way to pick up that ticket to the Big Detective Gig in the Sky. All that mattered was that she was about to explode underneath me like some sex crazed Mt. St. Helens. I began to realize why she had her own harem in GenChat.

Without warning the car stopped. I banged my head against the roof, and Jette screamed “Oh mother of god!” at the top of her lungs. Despite the fact we were about to head off for Tooky Tooky Land, I felt strangely relaxed. In fact, I could have really  used a coffin nail about then.

As the hood of the trunk was flung open Jette whispered, “If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone I’ll rip your rancheros out through your throat!”

“What and spoil my reputation?” I replied. “Hell, I feel like I should wash my groin out with mouthwash.”

“Well, Moonlight, we meet again,” a familiar voice sneered at me as my eyes tried to adjust to the bright light. “Hopefully, this will be last time. I swear you have more lives than than a rehabilitated communist!”

The familiar voice was TwystedPair, the right hand man of Gil Bates. When Bates needed muscle he called someone like Twyst’s pal RejecteDisk. But when he needed some thought added to the situation, spiced with pure unmitigated evil, he summoned Twyst. Now that Bates was on the outside Twyst ran the show in ChatWorld. Whatever was happening was pretty big if he was handling this operation himself.

“You were getting nosey again, Moonlight.” he said while lighting a Balkan Cybronjae. “I hate it when people snoop around. Reminds me of a hyper-active dog and Jette’s crotch. We’ve come too far and done too much for you to gum your shoe in the works.

“Don’t bother speaking, Moonlight. I don’t care to hear your pathetic voice. You don’t have anything worth saying that I’d want to hear. I’ve passed you by, Moonlight. I’m in the big leagues now while you’re still shagging grounders in Lubbock.

“It’s curtains for you, Moonlight. You know next to nothing but that little bit is more than I can afford. Same with the dame with you. What we have planned is big, really big, and I don’t want a couple of pismires messing it up.  It’s time you bought on a seat on the Big Sleeper.”

“So won’t you fill us in before you send us off...” I asked stalling for time.

I was interrupted by a set a of nails raking across my face and voice screaming, “I said I didn’t want to hear your pathetic voice! It just reminds me of how small I once was!

“No! I won’t tell you what we are doing! I prefer you to go to your insignificant death without the slightest idea why I’m going to erase you like a bad mark on a quiz paper! All I will say is that it is bigger than a piece of gum on my shoe like you could ever comprehend...And that after we leave we’re going to have a little chat with your friend Twinkletoes!”

I bristled like a boar  in heat and struggled in vain against the ropes that bound me.

“You touch her, you go near her, you enter the same zip code where she lives, Twyst and you’ll live to regret  it!” I screamed.

Twyst laughed with an evil sneer as RejecteDisk lifted us from the trunk like a bag of potato chips. I writhed against the ropes but only succeeded to bringing that wicked gleam back to Jette’s eye.

“Sorry, Moonlight,” Twyst cackled malignantly, “but I don’t think you can do much about it. I just want you to know how much I am going to enjoy sharing some juicy and sweet PMs with her in a private room. Farewell!”

He flashed a cold hard stare into my eyes, then looked at his coffin nail. He threw it on the ground and rubbed it out like the idea of that slime touching Twink stepped on my heart. I vowed that even if I had to come back from the dead I would stop him.

TwystedPair looked at us thoughtfully for a moment. Then he gave us another evil grin and tipped his hat. As he turned to walk away he signaled his goon to throw us over the edge of chasm that seperates ChatWorld from out there.

Jette let out a scream that surpassed the one in the trunk and that would have woke a banshee at a barmitzvah. All started to rush by us at a tremendous pace. If the stories were true we would fall forever. Or at least it would seem like it...
Chap. 8

 

I struggled vainly against the ropes. All I succeeded in doing was arousing Jette. The wind that blew up her dress seemed to be heating her up too.

As I attempted to fend off her lips, I ran over any option I could think of to get out of this mess. I felt like we had as much chance as a supply-side econonmist justifying how his programs could help the poor.

Then suddenly it hit me in the face like a Spam pie. One of the powers that we flakes have is the ability  to transport physical objects around ChatWorld. I had used it some, mostly as a parlor trick to increase my tips in the Tahiti. Occasionally, I employed it on a case to move a door or something.

But what I planned now was well beyond anything I had ever tried. Our only chance was if I could transport us out of the chasm. I had no idea if I could move myself, let alone a solid package like Jette, and there was no guarantee we wouldn’t come out embedded up to our knees on the side of a building.

Still, our fat was cooking with the proverbial pot roast. We had no other choice. I closed my eyes, tried to relax, allowed my mind to drift. I visualized my office. A warm soft glow surrounded me, encased me in its comfort. All started to fade. I felt the ropes slacken, and then everything went black.

 

*****

 

Twink sat at the desk in my office in an attempt to make rhyme or reason out of what I laughlingly called my books. It was late. The building was as quiet as a sixteen year old caught with his hands in his sister’s pants.

There came a slight creak from the hall, like someone was treading lightly on the floor. Twink got up from her chair and walked to the door. She put her ear to the keyhole but heard nothing. She locked the door. As she returned to the desk she heard the creak again.

Reaching for her purse and its reassuring can of pepper spray, she said in a quavering voice, “A-a-a-l is th-th-that you?”

Her only answer was a silence as deafening as a midnight stupor. Then there came the creak again. The sound stopped in front of the door, and the knob began to turn. Twink reached in her purse and took out the pepper spray. She quietly walked to the door and watched in horror as someone rattled the latch.

“W-w-w-ho’s th-th-there?” her lovely voice trembled.

Suddenly the door burst open, and RejecteDisk lumbered through, only to be greeted by a squirt of pepper spray to the face. As he fell in agony Twink started to acquaint his ribs with those pointed toed shoes she of which she was so fond. However, she failed to notice a twisted small shape slip into the room

Twinks felt a searing pain in both wrists. Her arms had been grabbed by a pair of small but surprisingly strong hands, and the nails were digging into her soft lovely arms. As she tried to break free the can of pepper spray fell from her hand and rolled across the floor.

“Well, my dear,” TwystedPair sneered, “you seem to have stopped my cohort but missed my enterance. It is a mistake you will regret  and will long remember.”

“Wh-wh-what do y-y-you want? Let go of my you bad man!” she screamed as she struggled to no avail to free herself.

“Why mostly, I have a piece of paper for you to sign so this building will belong to Mr. Bates. Then I do possess some other ideas of how you may pleasure me.”

“What are y-y-you t-t-talking about? This building belongs to kindly old Mr. Tosh, and I have no desire to go anywhere and do anything with someone like you!”

“Oh, you haven’t heard? Your poor Mr. Tosh bought the big one, and it seems willed you the building. Now my employer has need of it, and I require whatever gratification  you can give me. I believe it is time for us to go private and see how things develop. Oh, I do hope it takes a long time to get you to agree. I just love the chase, you know.

Twink broke free of his grip, ran began the desk, and yelled, “Help! Al! Help! Al! Anyone! Help!”

Twyst cackled and said, “Oh, I don’t believe Al can assist you now, and I doubt if anyone else in GenChat would dare. This is it, my lovely. I just love the hunt, and I...”

The wall beside Twyst began to glow. It wavered and appeared to change into a gelatinous state. The fiend looked at it in disbelief, transfixed by the development. All of a sudden, Jette and I came shooting out of the effulgence. I managed to clip Twyst on the jaw with my right shoe as we flew by him. He went down like a sack of raw onions.

We landed and rolled across the room into the wall. I tried to stand but felt as weak as a wet baby after a good movement. Luckily, Twyst was frozen in shock. I quickly tried to catch my breath and my bearings.

RejecteDisk attempted to get up. Jette picked up the paper weight off my desk, wrapped it in her right hand, and clipped him a good one in the puss. He started to stumble back. She hit him again. He lurched in front of the window. Jette and Twink looked at each other, then ran  toward him. Together they managed to push the lumbering ox out of the window.

I dove on TwystedPair, blocking his kidney punch with my left elbow. As we rolled over the floor, I reached in my pocket and wrapped my hand around the roll of quarters. I brought it out and snapped a good punch into his gut. He broke free and bolted toward the window like a fillie on oat bran.

As he climbed onto the ledge, he turned and sneered, “You somehow won this round, Moonlight, but the war is far from over!”

Then he leaped, using the prostrate body of RejecteDisk to cushion his landing. The two feet to the stomach seemed to revive the big goon, and the two disappeared into the darkness.

“Oh, Al,” Twink sobbed as she wrapped her arms around my neck and molded her very pleasing curves to my body, “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up and stopped that wicked man.”

“That’s okay, babe,” I replied as I found myself enjoying her soft body clinging to mine. “He will never hurt you again. I promise that.”

Twink backed up a little  and stared longingly into my eyes. I had never seen her look so vulnerable or lovely. I was transfixed by the gentle radiance of her bright blues orbs, glistening for that instant only for me.

Then Jette interrupted by saying, “Well what now, Albie? That was some trick you pulled, but frankly I’d prefer to do something besides watch you two make goo-goo eyes. Why don’t you just get a private room and get it over with? God, Moonlight, just how dense can you be anyway?”

Before I could answer PistonfromDetroit1968, one of the Tahiti regulars, burst into the room. His clothes were torn to rags, and he was covered with soot.

“Moonlight, Jette!” he gasped as he collapsed against the wall. “Come quick! The Tahiti is on fire!”

I rushed through the door with Jetta and Twink on my heels. TwistedPair had said it was war. Now the ball was back in my court. As soon as I checked out the lounge it was time for me to lob a few grenades his way.
Chap. 9

 

When we got to the Tahiti it was blazing like a cherry red ‘52 Chevy pickup. The place was total chaos, although the firemen did seem to have things under control. However, I wasn’t paying much attention to the situation.

I had ran out of coffin nails so I bummed one of Jette’s. She had that new brand, HardDrive. The first drag had ripped into my lungs like a white hot poker. The second felt like someone had put my heart in a vice and beat on it with a hammer. I was seriously thinking about changing brands.

I leaned against a lamp post hacking uncontrollably, oblivious to the screaming chatter on fire who ran by me. The HardDrive was light yet full bodied, intense yet relaxing. I inhaled deeply delighting in the searing pain in my chest. Colors whirled and flashed before my eyes, and my mind seemed to leave my body to observe the scene serenely detached. It was pure heaven.

Suddenly, Daybreak burst from the crowd and ran to me. She buried her pretty soot ridden face in my shirt and pressed those delightful arguments to my body. For an instant I almost forgot about the coffin nail, but not quite.

“Oh, Moonlight,” she sobbed on my shirt, mixing tears and soot in interesting patterns on the white cloth, “what am I going to do? The place is ruined!”

“Say, Jette,” I said as I sucked down another delightful puff, “where did you get these? I might have to switch from generics.”

“Moonlight!” Daybreak screamed, clenching her nails into my chest. “Hello! Anyone there? ChatWorld to Moonlight! Damnit, Al, I’ve lost everything I had sunk into this hole! The ferns, Al! The ferns, they are all gone!”

I sighed and allowed myself to return to the banality of the moment. I noticed Cub_Reporter limping around on crutches. He was covering the story for The ChatWorld Tattler. The man had a nose for dirt like a dog had for a woman in heat. I pushed the sobbing Daybreak over to Jette as I went to check him out.

“Hi, Cubbie,” I said as I sucked down the last grating aromatic drag, “found anything out?”

“Not much, Moonlight,” he replied.

He continued, “No one seems to know what happened. A few said they saw two shadowy shapes - one large and lumbering, the other small and twisted, yada yada - outside the lounge. Then a molotov cocktail flew through the window.

“That probably wouldn’t have done quite this much damage, but The__Sot and Cleverpainter had bet on if Ouzo really burned with a blue flame. They threw a bottle on the fire, and things just took off like a hyperactive sprinter. That’s about all I got.”

“How bad’s the damage?”

“Don’t know yet. Probably should ask Chief_Pat.”

He pointed in the direction of a man wearing a large black slicker. Chief_Pat looked the potato nosed Irishman you usually saw playing a cop or a fireman in a Grade B dectective movie. I wouldn’t say that he was hard drinking, but you could have used his nose for a road map of Manhattan.

I stopped to bum another HardDrive from Jette. Daybreak meekly took hold of my hand and followed me over to Chief_Pat who was breaking down the front door with an ax. I surmised his actions weren’t helping with the fire, but I knew how he liked to fracture doors.

“How’s it going, Chief?” I asked while reveling in the taste of the burning dead leaves I inhaled.

He answered in a brogue as thick as a Guiness Stout, “Aye, Moonlight, me lad. Seema to be a gettin it under control.”

“So think you can save the dump?”

“Aye, lad, we a seema to be able to...but...” he replied.

He looked sadly at Daybreak and fought back a tear from the corner of his eye.

Choking on his words he continued, “Aye, and anda I’ma a sorry one about this, lassie. It’sa the ferns. We couldna save the ferns.”

Daybreak broke out in hysterics. The last time I seen her distraught was when no would go home with her from the Tahiti. I was set to comfort her when I noticed Jette cradling the poor woman in her arms. She held Daybreak with a tenderness I never expected from Jette.

“Well, you two stay here and try to get some order to all this -Twink will help you,” I said as I lifted the pack of HardDrives from Jette’s purse. “I have some nosing around to do.”

“Oh, Moonlight,” Daybreak wailed, “what will I do? The ferns! They’re all gone!”

“Listen, sweetheart, If you can get the place cleaned up in time we’ll have a benefit for the ferns tonight. My band was going to play the MeetMarket, but we can gig here just as well.”

“Y-y-y-you’d do that for me even after how mean I’ve been to you.”

“Yeah, guess I just got a heart of gold, doll.”

“W-w-w-where are going now?”

“I talked to someone earlier who I don’t think gave me a total picture of the level playing field. I think it’s time for me to go back to The Master Chef for a cup of joe and some friendly conversation.”

Without another word I turned and headed down the street. I had another errand to run first. I needed to stop by Ma ’n Pa’s for a pack of HardDrives.
Chap. 10

 

My mood was about as foul as the trash cans behind a sewage plant. First they stole the piano, then they threatened Twink, and now they torched the Tahiti. What they had planned must have been as big as Moses crossing the Red Sea to Philadelphia for them to be that desperate, but I had taken about all I could. I felt sorry for the next joker who tried to bandy swords with me.

I arrived at The Master Chef just before the dinner rush. The sounds of culinary jocularity swept over me:

 

·      SnugglBunnie34 says, "WHAT?"

·      GorgeHamilton says, "ROFLMAO @ Eyeland"

·      Cpt__Tripps says, "and hairy chests??"

·      SnugglBunnie34 says, "ROFLMAO?"

·      Awesome_Ape says, "so, can I have a cappucino....?"

·      GorgeHamilton says, "Rolling On Floor Laughing My Ass Off..."

·      Cpt__Tripps orders ape a cap

·      SnugglBunnie34 says, "OH LORD"

·      Cpt__Tripps says, "LOL"

·      Awesome_Ape says, "Thanks Cpt__Tripps..."

·      Cpt__Tripps says, "no prob!!"

·      GorgeHamilton says, "Eyeland... that was funny as hell...."

·      Muted_Trumpet leaves, heading for a private room.

·      Eyelandsays, "I DO WHAT I CAN..."

·      Awesome_Ape starts enjoying his cappucino..

·      GorgeHamilton says, "oh yeah... beards and hairy chests are cool...."

 

 A real bunch of scholars, I thought as I noticed NomeBoat_Annie working the door. I brushed by her like she was yesterday’s news.

The_Cook was seated in the back, enjoying what he referred to as his “repast.” I walked over to his table and waited. He tried to ignore me so I got his attention by putting my HardDrive out in his appetizer. He gave me a look that normally might have made me pause but I was mad enough to eat a dictionary.

“Well, Cookie,” I said as I lit up another coffin nail, “I don’t think you gave me all the names for the starting roster. We need to discuss this a little farther.”

He looked up with dark disdain and sneered, “Reservation for one?”

I reached out, grabbed him by the hair, and slammed his face into the mashed potatoes. Then for good measure I smashed his puss into the gravy. The_Cook gasped and let out a groan that would wake a kid sleeping through study hall.

I grapped him by his tie and pushed him back against the wall. My left arm fit neatly on his throat and held him there like a bug pinned on a baseball card. The room grew as quiet as me discussing my options with my bookie.

“Okay, Cookie,” I said through clenched teeth, “I’ve had my backside burned often enough on this case. I’m waiting for someone to give me a reason to pop some chops. You want to give me that reason?”

“Now, now, my good fellow. I see no reason to resort to fisticuffs...”

“If you don’t start singing like a Nashville hound by the time I count to eight, I will.”

“But you see, it is just so much more complicated than you could imagine...”

“1...2....”

“I have a role in this society, a station to uphold...”

“...3...4...”

“And you have no idea what would happen to me if I revealed such priviledged information...”

“...5...6...”

“Perhaps we can come to some other agreement. I do have resources you know...”

“...7...”

“All right, my good man! Enough! Just tell me what knowledge you require, and I will do my utmost to assist you!”

“That’s better,” I snarled as I pushed him back into the chair. “Now start singing about what Bates is up to in GenChat, or we’ll continue our math lesson on your face.”

The_Cook sat up, straightened his tie and started to wipe off the food. I thought maybe he was going to try to ignore me, but when I lit up another HardDrive the sound of the match almost made him need a new set of shorts.

“I would like to ask you one question first,” he said.

“Go ahead and shoot, Waldo.”

“How did you know my first name? Anyway, just what makes you think I would know any more about this operation?”

“First, next to Bates, you are about the biggest sleeze in this crummy little cyburg. Not even Jette or Daybreak would go private with you, which shows you’re about as low as a beetle’s backside in the carpet.

“Second, it is just a little too convenient nothing has happened to you. You said you had been paying for protection. Well, I know for a fact most the businesses in GenChat pay some kind of “insurance”, but only Ma ’n Pa’s and you have escaped damaged.”

“Then, praytell, why don’t you suspect them?”

“Because Ma knows enough karate to lay Chuck Norris to waste, and that woman also has the biggest gun collection in GenChat. She’s one tough old bird who no one in their right mind would mess with.

“Now start spilling the beans on the plate, Cookie, before I have to bury you up to your knees in concrete galloshes.”

“Very well. Not long after I purchased this establishment I was approached by TwystedPair, who we both know is Mr. Bates’s spokesman in ChatWorld.

“He said that they had need of my eatery. I explained that I needed to recoup some financial reversals I had incurred on the outside. TwystedPair stated that they would allow me to continue to run my concern for a limited time if I would help them to persuade other businesses to sell.

“I have talked to several owners. Some agreed and received a handsome settlement. Others declined and found their businesses brought to ruin in one form or another.

“Mr. Bates’s associate stressed to me that it was imperative for them to control all of GenChat by the end of this month. I tried my utmost to hold up my end of the bargain. All of was going to plan until you became a fly in their balm, so to speak.”

“So why do they want GenChat? What’s the big kuhana, Cookie?” I asked.

“I have no idea. That part of operation was never revealed to me. Please, put down that butter knife. I am speaking the truth on this matter. TwystedPair said the fewer who knew, the better, but that I would be aptly rewarded for my efforts.”

“Fine,” I said as I fipped the butter knife from end to end, “now you can do one more thing.”

“What is that my dear fellow?”

“You can pack and get your scrawny carcass out of GenChat. If I see you in here after 8:30, this butter knife and I guarantee you’ll be able to hit E over High C.”

“But what of my establishment?”

“There’s no other way, Cookie. We’ve had enough of your kind around here. GenChat used to be a decent place where you could bring the wife and kids for a Sunday afternoon chat. Sure, you had to stay away from some of the private rooms, but on the whole it was the Norman Rockwell painting of ChatWorld.

“Now you scum have turned it into a hole. Well, those days are over buddy. Al_B._Moonlight has had it up his rancheros and isn’t taking it anymore.”

With that I turned and walked out the door. Two and two were coming together in my mind, and I didn’t like the four they were adding up to.

I headed back to the Tahiti to see how the cleanup was proceeding.
Chap. 11

 

When I got back to the Tahiti, I couldn’t believe the job they had done fixing up the place. Twink was cleaning like a mad hen on Wild Turkey and directing others at the same time. She had changed into a pair of shorts and wore a shirt tied up in front so that her curves just walked over and smacked you in the face.

When Twink saw me she waved and smiled. She had a spot of soot on the end of her nose that made those bright eyes stand out even more. I just wanted to jump into their clear blue pool for a swim as I felt myself melt into my socks.

Meanwhile, I spied Jette and Daybreak sitting at a table watching Twink organize  the work. They were having some drinking contest that used coins, bananas, and shots of Scuzzie Scotch. They didn’t notice me so I went over to see how Twink was holding up.

“Oh, Al,” she beamed, “it’s just going so darn swell! We should have the place ready by this evening!”

“That’s great, Twink. I see Jette and Daybreak are at least staying out of your way.”

“Oh, them. Well, they started out trying to help, but I swear neither of them have ever seen the back end of a mop.”

“I wouldn’t put money on that, Twink.”

“Well, if you say so. Anyway, they soon lost interest, which was okay by me because I could get so much more done without them in the way.

“You know, Al, this is so much fun! I can hardly wait now until we start fixing up the office building!”

“We? Fix up?”

“Oh, yes, Al! Kindly old Mr. Tosh was a nice man, but he didn’t have the money or time or taste to decorate that place properly. I just know we can do a bang-up job! How are you with a hammer and a paintbrush anyway?”

“Well, uh, I’ve  got to get things set up for tonight, Twink,” I said desperately attempting to change the subject. “Have you seen Cub_Reporter?”

“Oh, he’s behind the bar restoring the black velvet painting.”

There was an awkward silence as I got ready to move. Most women I could read like a road map of Indiana, but with Twink I always felt like a schoolboy after church on a hot summer day. So I mumbled something about her doing a great job, lit up a coffin nail, and headed over to Cub_Reporter.

“How’s it going, Cubbie?” I asked as I sauntered up to the bar.

“Fine, Al.” he replied as he put the last dab of paint on the nose of the dog holding the royal flush, “I’m sure glad I took that evening class on black velvet painting restoration. What’s up with you?”

“Got a job for you Cubbie,” I said as I sucked down the wonderfully anesthetizing smoke.

“What is it?”

“My band’s going to play a benefit here tonight for the ferns. I need every  corner of GenChat plastered with posters.”

“Can do. Anything else?”

“Yeah, pass the word that I want everyone with a piece to be packing tonight. We’ve taken about enough of this Bates crap. It’s about time we put the rules on the board for a change.”

“Will do. Anything else?”

“Yeah, also pass the word that I’ve figured out what Bates is up to and know how to stop him. Tell them I’m going to do it tonight here.”

“Wow, Al! What is it? I need a scoop for the Tattler.”

“I don’t really know yet Cubbie, just have a hunch. But my Uncle Elmo always said if you want to flush out rats you need some sour bacon.”

“What?”

“I never understood it either, Cubbie. Uncle Elmo was never the same after he fell off the roof.”

“Well, okay. Anything else.”

“Yeah, you ever seen that “Who’s On First” skit?”

“Yes I have. Why?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Me neither, Al.”

“That’s too bad. I wish someone could explain it to me.”

“Same here. Well, this is alot for me to do. I better get busy. What are you going to do now?”

“I’ve got to call the band, and finish laying my plans for tonight. Later, Cubbie.”

I turned and walked to the door. Before I left, I turned once more to watch Twink. She was working hard, and the sweat made her clothes cling to her supple frame. I had never seen her look so lovely. I sighed and went outside.

The wind was blowing hard, driving a cold rain into my face. I pulled down my hat brim, pulled up my collar, and tried to light another HardDrive. I gave up when the coffin nail got soaked.

I needed to get to my office to use my phone in private. If all went well, we would be rid of the Bates scum once and for all. If not, we’d be just another pile of dog waste on that cyber-freeway to nowhere.
Chap. 12

 

While I walked I started to think about the band. It had begun with me and the boys in Liverpool. We had a dream, a dream to get to the top, the tippy top top...wait...damn...it was another flake memory...

I leaned back against a lamp post and tried to light a coffin nail. I gave up when the whole pack was soaked. Crumpling up the pack, I picked up my pace. It was about a ten minute walk to my office, and I would probably have a good set of the shakes by then.

 

*****

 

My thoughts tumbled like a gluehead on a carrousel. Images flashed and drifted through my mind of the band and how we came to be. It was its own little story, a few pages with footnotes and labeled figures in a chapter of the pitiful tale of what passed for my life.

We had met in a sorry backwater dive in GenChat called The Grain Factory. They were playing an Open Mike and backed me off my feet against the wall with my hands in my hip pockets with their music.

Usually, I’m a loner, a soloist. I fly that great road of the music muse hitchhiking on my own thumb, but this group was the cat’s pajamas. They were called The KillerBz, and pounded out a sound that reminded me of parachuting: grab three chords and hold on. I just had to play with them.

Since I joined the act their career had gone to hell in a slop bucket. It wasn’t my fault. No one seemed to be ready for their version of what they called 5th Room Muszik. Where the other four rooms were I didn’t know, but I was glad to be behind the same door that they were.

Rasta_Kahn, the lead guitarist,  was the best the musican among us. You could give him a shoebox and three rubberbands and somehow he’d get a song out of it. A gangly spider of man with hands the size of a Texas hangover, he was the only person I ever saw with dreadlocks 1/16th of an inch long.

DrShades played rhythm guitar. He was a squat little fellow with a heart of gold. He knew more songs than I had excuses for not paying my rent. His voice could have knocked the nose off Lincoln on Mt. Rushmore. He was the glue that held the ragtag group together.

Louie__Linguini was a painter from New Jersey who played bass. He passed for  as close to a manager as this motley crew had; which meant he called us up and got us out of bed for practice, loaded us in his robin egg blue station wagon and hauled us to whatever gigs we got, and was good for a cyber-jackson when you were down on your luck.

Obwan the drummer was an odd little greasy character. He was the type of joe who would smile into your eyes while trying to steal your watch. He referred to Rasta as his “good American friend,” but Rasta seemed to always to try to stand on the other side of the room. Obwan wasn’t a particularly good drummer either. Still, he was all we could afford.

Then there was The_Rose__. What could you say about Rose except that she could wail like a gulf storm and had broken every man’s heart in GenChat. She had long strawberry blonde hair and one those figures that made you want to put your hands in your pocket and dig for loose change.

Then there was me, the piano player. The name’s Moonlight, Al_B._Moonlight, but then you all ready know that...

 

*****

 

By the time I got to the office it was raining felines and canines. The water streamed into my eyes making it hard to see, and I was shaking so bad that I had trouble opening the front door. Then I rememebered I had to pull the door, not push it. Once inside I noticed my clothes were dripping like a bad sinus condition.

I sloshed my way up the stairs leaving a trail of puddles behind me like my Aunt Millie on New Year’s Morning. By the time I got to my office I was shaking like a leaf blower in the hands of a Mexican gardener. I didn’t know if it was nicotine withdrawal or the start of pneumonia, but at the moment the latter seemed to be the preferable alternative.

I burst into my office, ran to the desk, flung it open, and shakily ripped open a pack. The coffin nails fell on the floor, and I dove to grab one. I lit it and breathed down the delicious noxious fumes like my life depended on it. I lay there for a few moments as the room spun in giddy swirling colors about me. I felt like my head was going to explode. God, how could I ever live without it?

As I stood up I heard a voice behind me sneer, “Well, Moonlight, I believe it is time to re-engage our forces, don’t you?”

I whirled to see my nemisis, TwystedPair. He laughed. I started to move toward him when I felt something hit the back of my head. The room started to spin again, but this time in an unpleasant manner. All started to go fuzzy and dark.

As I began to topple over I turned to see RejecteDisk leering at me. He held something in his hand. It took me a minute to figure out what it was.

I had been cold cocked by a frozen chicken.

 

*****

 

I was revived by a cold slap across the face. I noticed that my skin was stinging and my cheek felt damp. It was more than the sweat. TwystedPair had turned his rings around to make sure the diamond studs ground into my face. You had to take your hat off to him. If he was anything he was a professional.

As I came around like a punchdrunk pug after the count of ten, I observed I was sitting in the middle of my office, tied to a chair. RejecteDisk was seated on the floor in front of me playing jacks. Twyst was standing by my desk going through his briefcase of horrors.

“Well, Moonlight, you couldn’t take a warning, you just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” he taunted with a somewhat professional detachment.

“I keep telling you Twyst, it’s not my nature. You crossed the line you drew in the sand one too many times, and you’re going to pay.”

“Oh, contrare, my dead Moonlight, you seem to be the one who is holding the check after all of the diners have left the club. Just be patient while I organize my wares, and then we’ll see what it is you do know about our operation. Oh, I do  hope you intially resist answering. It’s been so long since I properly questioned anyone.”

I struggled vainly against the ropes. How could I have been so stupid as to walk into this one, I thought. It must have been the nicotine withdrawal that had made me a little careless. I wondered if I could bum one of those Balkan Cybronjaes from my captor before he started questioning me.

It would take a miracle for me to get out of this one. The only thing that could save me would be one of those convenient plot contrivances you see in a detective novel. But this was no story, it was chat, and that made it almost real.

All at once, we heard a sound in the hall. Three people entered  my office. It was Cubbie, Piston, and Derwood, the boy friend of the band’s go-go dancer, RedOooLaLa. They were laughing in a the jocular fashion one would expect from three male chatters who had no idea what they were walking into. TwystedPair and RejecteDisk turned to look at them as they entered.

“Hi, Al,” Cubbie said, “we came to see if you needed help moving equipment for the show...”

“Cubbie! Hit the light and then the floor!” I yelled as the kicked RejecteDisk in the right kidney.

Cubbie flipped the switch, and the three hit the floor faster than Jette in a private room. I quickly flipped over my chair. It was made of cheap wood, and shattered like the hopes and dreams of a generation. I rolled quickly to my desk and grabbed my sap from the lefthand drawer.

Twyst was on me like a fly on bubblegum. I didn’t have time to unleash my sap so I slammed my fist into his chin sending him sprawling across the room. Then I felt a rather beefy hand clench around my throat. I was lifted like a a sack of wet laundry.

“Now’s Moonlight, we’s seez jus’ howz tuff yaz are,” RejecteDisk hissed into my face.

His breath made me nearly gag as I struggled in vain to break free. Just what did these thugs eat, and why didn’t they ever brush their teeth? If I didn’t get out of his hold it was going to be time for my last curtain call.

The Cubbie, Piston, and Derwood jumped on the goon. They couldn’t stop him but did manage to distract him long enough for me to plant my sap on his right temple. RejecteDisk may have been as strong as an ox with a head as thick as a battleship’s hull, but even he felt the effects of steel spring loaded packed glass. His hand released, and I fell gasping to the floor.

Meanwhile, Twyst had crawled to the window. He mangaged to get up on the ledge and remove the tarpaper Twink had put up to cover where RejecteDisk had fallen out earlier.

“Lefty, Rocky, Butch, Reggie, get in here! We need your help!” he screamed in a high pitched hysterical voice.

“Come on guys, let’s book!” I screamed at my allies. “We’d better go unless you want to know how Custer felt at Little Big Horn!”

We ran down the hall and out of the building. I caught up with Cubbie and told him I needed to use the phone at The Tattler to call Louie about the gig.

After that it would be show time. I lit up a coffin nail, and we disappeared like chickens into the night.
Chap. 13

 

When we got to the Tahiti, the joint was packed like sardines in a school bus. Cubbie had done his job. I also noticed nearly everyone was packing. I hadn’t seen that many bulges since they booked the Shriners and The Strippers Association into the GenChat Hilton on the same weekend.

I spied Louie on the stage. He all ready had the equipment set up and was testing the recording system. For some reason he taped everything we ever played. He even had tapes of DrShades going to the bathroom.

I looked around the crowd and spied Twink sitting at a table down front. She had showered and was wearing that sleeveless blue dress that made me limp around the room. She saw me, smiled, and waved. I looked down at my shoes and meekly waved back.

I checked out the setup of my electric piano. Everything was kosher. Derwood and Piston were finishing putting up the “Save the Ferns” banner. I decided to go backstage and wait with the band. It was about time for the show, and my stomach was churning like butterflies in warm yogurt.

 

*****

 

The Tahiti went black. The KillerBz  started to grind out the numbing groove. A red spot was shown us, and then RedOooLaLa appeared under a green one. She was wearing a white minidress with matching kneehigh vinyl boots and was dancing like a monkey chasing a banana. A blue spot hit Rose, and she broke into Piece of My Heart.

With the exception of Derwood, who sat with a bucket under his chin and watched Red, every male eye in the place was on Rose. There wasn’t dry crotch among them. She was wearing a tight strapless red number slit up the left leg nearly to indecency. Vamping and strutting across the stage, she wasn’t singing the song, she was the song.

I looked at Louie and DrShades. We grinned at each other like kittens staring at a bowl of fresh milk. Then I looked at Rasta and cringed. For some reason he had decided to play his electric zither. No wonder we’d never taken off, I thought.

After three more numbers the place was rocking like an avalanche. Then it was my turn for my big number up front. Usually, Rose handled most of the lead vocals, but I got a few while she rested her pipes and set up her date for after the show.

“I’d like to do an old Righteous Brothers number for someone special out there,” I said as I chorded into the song.

As I broke into Unchained Melody in my worn but pleasing voice I looked at Twink. She was beaming at me. Then I noticed Daybreak and Jette were smiling knowingly, too. In fact, about half the women in the lounge were giving me that certain look. I wondered just how many had been involved with me.

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the crowd. The audience parted like a comb going through brylcreem. In strolled Gil Bates, surrounded by his entourage. The time had come. Either we put up or shut up like a screen door closing in a warm breeze.

 

*****

 

The band stopped playing. The tension was as thick as Chief_Pat’s brogue. Everyone looked expectantly at me.

I took the mike and asked, “Well, Mr. Bates, have you come to contribute to the Fern Fund?”

Bates looked at me with his serene yet steely bespectacled eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was giving me slight smile or a look of disdain. Perhaps it was both. He calmly eyed the crowd and then pointed at TwystedPair.

“Moonlight,” Twyst replied, “you know Mr. Bates doesn’t lower himself to talk to your sort. Can’t see you see how upset he is? I have never seen him more livid!

“He is so disappointed in all of you. What he offered was for the betterment of you and for GenChat. Instead you treat him like he’s a power hungry CEO of a major corporation. Where is your gratitude?”

“It went out after the baby with the bathwater, Twist,” I answered as I lit up a HardDrive and watched Obwan hide behind his drumset.

“Well, Moonlight, you can tell your rabble that this is their last chance. They can comply now and still be handsomely compenstated. If not, well Mr. Bates cannot be held accountable for the actions of some of his associates.”

“Sorry, Twyst, that just doesn’t cut the mustard or the onions. Now why don’t you and your crew just go find a new sandbox to play in?”

Twyst looked at Bates. Bates nodded to him, and the spinister little man started to signal his goons. But he was a little late. I had cued the crowd, and Bates Boyz found themselves staring down the barrel of every gun in the room. Even Jette had her 38s out.

 “I think it’s a done deal, Twyst. Go home, pack your bags, and get out of our cyburg,”  I said, “or come tomarrow you won’t be here to kiss that blue bird of happiness hello.”

Suddenly, I heard Twink yell, “Al! Help! Get your hands off of me you bad man!”

Bates had Twink by the shoulders and was backing slowly out of the room. His gang started to move with him. I stood helplessly feeling like a benchwarmer selling peanuts to the crowd.

“Very well, Moonlight,” Twyst sneered, “but we feel a little insurance is in order. Maybe we’ll let your little songbird go...after I’ve finished with her, that is. By the way, the piano we stole from here? It’s dogfood now”

Then they were gone. Twink was their prisoner, my piano was trashed. GenChat was safe for the moment but the victory felt as hollow as a cone when the ice cream carton was empty. I buried my face in my hands and closed my eyes.

Then I remembered my last encounter with the Bates Boyz. There was a private room behind a joint called The Cup in JockChat. Bates had jumped the modem to the outside from that room. The modem was probably still there. I wouldn’t have put it above him to leave. It was about as much of a longshot as throwing aces in a hat, but it was my only chance.

“Louie,” I said as I stood up, “lend me an andy. I need to catch the trolley  to JockChat.”

I grabbed my bottle of mineral water and headed for the door.
Chap. 14

 

 The first thing I did when I got off the trolley in JockChat was to light up a coffin nail. It had been a forty minute ride with No Smoking signs and surly beefy guards all over the place. By the end of the ride I was chewing the back of the seat in front of me.

After my shakes calmed down I started for the private room. I prayed that Bates had gone there. If he hadn’t, I had no idea where else to look. As I hurried  past The Cup the sounds of chat breezed out the door like the smell of a ripe gym locker:

 

·      Timeout enters.

·      BEARBRYANT361 says, "HELLO ROOM !!!!!!!!"

·      DumBunnie enters.

·      Fambrusch says, "do u know the game: fanta soccer"

·      BEARBRYANT361 says, ""hi"

·      Axle_Rod says, "maybe...Magic Time Machine"

·      KlutchKargo enters.

·      BEARBRYANT361 says, ">oops"

·      DumBunnie leaves, heading for The Rink.

·      The__Duffer says, "What are you going to be studying?  I just finished up Accounting and Finance!"

·      HoopStare enters.

·      Cheerlader12 leaves, heading for a private room.

·      Barf_ enters.

·      KlutchKargo leaves, heading for a private room.

·      HairyCarrey enters.

·      ShortSot enters.

·      Barf_ leaves, heading for College Football 97.

·      The__Duffer says, "Have you been to any "professional wrestling?"  Are you from St. Louis?"

·      Mr_69 leaves

 

 

The scarcity of intelligence in such rooms never ceased to amaze me. But then what could you expect from a crew whose idea of a good time was to watch large men on ice skates beat each other with sticks. I turned into the alley.

The door to the private room was open swaying in the breeze. From inside I could hear a hum. Bates was warming up the modem. I had arrived just in time. I crept into the place like a buffalo on egg shells.

I stood still while my eyes adjusted to the light. The room was strewn with the usual debris and filth I had come to expect from the Bates Boyz. Twink would have had a field day cleaning up this mess.

In front of me was an open door. A light was on in the room. I could hear the sounds of feet shuffling and of a struggle. I slunk to the doorway and peered through. The sight that I saw took my heart, placed it on the sidewalk, and ran over it with a steamroller.

Bates was messing with the controls of the modem. His face was set in the look of  serene detrimination one expected from him. He looked like a gentle man, but I knew that inside lurked a villian who would sell his granny for peanuts if he thought their market value was going to go up.

But the scene that tore at my heart like a boy scout tying knots for a merit badge was Twink struggling in the grasp of TwystedPair. I felt the ire and the bile rise in me. Strangely, I noticed there was no one else besides those three in the room.

“Y-y-y-you let go of me you evil little man!” Twink screamed.

“Now, now, my dear,” Twyst sneered, “I can be much more entertaining than you ever could imagine. Did you know my tongue is double jointed?”

“Oh you! You could just make me spit! If Al was here you’d be in trouble!”

“Ah, but he isn’t, is he? Go ahead and struggle, you know how I enjoy the chase. No, you have no Al now my dear, but have you ever noticed how he is never here when you really need him. I doubt if the fool even realizes just what you are and what pleasures you could bring. 

“It’s too bad my associates all ran off. Seems they didn’t like the fact their health insurance plan wouldn’t cover bullet wounds. More’s the pity, for they could have shared in your sweet tender fruits.

“I can see the passion built up in you like some soda bottle that has been well shaken. Oh, how I long to uncap that one! No, you have no Al to protect you...”

“I wouldn’t place any abes on that pony, Twyst,” I said as I stepped out of the shadows.

“Oh, Al! I just knew you’d come!” Twink beamed at me as she struggled to free her lovely wrists from Twyst’s steely grip.

“Well, Moonlight, sometimes you do surprise. Perhaps you are a worthy adversay after all,” Twyst sneered. “If this was some tawdry detective story I would say this is our final showdown, but real chat isn’t like that, is it. Surely, you know that.”

“Let her go Twyst. This between Bates, you, and me. She’s just a poor little bird that got caught up in the perverted cage of your sorry little game. And don’t call me Shirley.”

“Oh, no, my dear Moonlight. Not until Mr. Bates has returned to out there. You may have spoiled our plans in here but he has many flies to cook in his soup on the other side of the modem. Just one thing, how did you figure out our plan?”

“I didn’t. I just suckered you in like a dog after the litter box.”

“What?”

“It was a ruse, a scam, a setup, and you fell for it like pimple faced kid going for a box of chocolates.”

“Then you didn’t know about the mall.”

“The mall?”

Twyst laughed hysterically and continued, “Yes, The Bates Cyber-Mall. You see there is alot of competition among the chatlines right now. Mr. Bates needed an edge to get over on his competitors. So he was going to raze GenChat and construct the first cyber-mall. It would have drawn chatters like flies to week old tuna.

“But, no, you with your limited vision had to oppose him, and I am afraid we did underestimate you, Moonlight. But looking at you who could tell something besides a total loser lurked in that pathetic shell of a flake body? We had until 8:30 today to secure all of the property, or the financing would fall through. Now it’s too late.

“But not too late for Mr. Bates. He has other computer worlds to conquer. He is weary of ChatWorld, I’m afraid you won’t see him here again. I tried to convince him to erase its disk, but he received an offer for the place he couldn’t refuse. So turn and say farewell to the greatest man you will ever meet.”

I turned to see Bates step toward the modem. I ran toward him. If there was one guilty party I didn’t want to see go free it was him.

All of a sudden I felt a searing pain in my left kidney. I had forgotten about Twyst, and he had hit me with one his patented rabbit punches. I rolled with the blow to try lessen the pain. I felt myself starting to black out but fought to stay awake.

Twyst kicked me in the stomach and sneered, “Well, Moonlight, I guess this is it. After I dispose of you, I’ll return to the joys of your young lovely.”

The fiend had just made his mistake. Not only did he hestitate to gloat over me, he had threatened Twink again. I was fed up like a Roman at an orgy and wasn’t going take it anymore. Lunging forward I slammed the open palm of my right hand into his rancheros. He went down like a third round contestant in a spelling bee.

I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to my level. Then I started screaming at him and pounding his head on to the floor in time to the emphasized words.

“I have had just about all of this I can take you sick little bastard! It’s over! You’re done for! You are toast!” I yelled.

“Al, stop! You’re killing him!” Twink shouted while grabbing for my arm to pull me off the bloody pulp that now passed for TwystedPair. “I think you have made your point.”

I looked toward the modem. Bates was gone. Who knew what evils he had planned for out there? Hopefully, that would someone else’s problem and not mine.

I stood up breathing hard. I grabbed Twink and held her close never wanting to let go. I realizedwhat she meant to me and just what I almost lost. The feel of her body as it molded and shaped to mine was as delicious as a good apple on a sunny afternoon.

Twink stepped back, brushed the hair out of face, and wiped the scrape on my forehead with her hankie. We looked at each other and smiled, then we felt a little uncomfortable like we had crossed the stateline with a passport. We both looked at our shoes.

“What should we do with him, Al?” Twink asked.

“Leave him,” I answered while lighting a coffin nail. “He’s last week’s trash now. We’ll inform the authorities before we get on the trolley.

With that I offered Twink my arm. She smiled,slipped hers through mine, snuggled close, and walked out in step with me.

We forgot to close the door on our way out.
Chap. 15

 

It was a bright sunny afternoon in my office. Twink had just straightened up the place. The window was open and a cool refreshing breeze hit me in the face like an iced slushie. She stood behind me humming a cheery tune while reading  the deed to the building.

Things were looking up in GenChat. The new owners had sunk some cyber-bucks into the place and spiffed it up. Old business had reopened and had been joined by a slew of new ones. The streets were bustling, and everyone was in a good mood.

I had gone back to work at the Tahiti. Face it, once a piano player, always a piano player. Daybreak was so grateful with me saving her business that she had paid my backwages and given me a hefty raise to boot. For once, I was almost bringing in as much as I spent.

She had even bought me a new Steinway for me to play, which was convenient since the old piano was toast for breakfast. As for the kidnapped chatters, the cops found them in the private room in JockChat, bound, gagged, and thrown in a closet like a pile of clothes at an Albian gargage sale.

I had kept my office though. I had found I liked having my own place. It was somewhere I could hang my hat and sit back for a quiet cup of joe with Twink.

“Say Twink,” I said breaking the silence as I lit up a HardDrive, “you busy this afternoon?”

“Why no, Al. Is there something you want to do?”

I suddenly felt as tongue tied as a school boy in the coat room with the janitor. My face turned a slight shade of red. I looked down at the floor and scuffed my shoes across the carpet. I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it, but I screwed up my courage and looked into those baby blues of hers.

“Well, I just remembered the fair’s back in town,” I continued as the armpits of my shirt grew damp. “I was wondering if you’d like to go catch some rides and walk the midway.”

“Oh, Al! I’d just love to! Let me grab my purse!” Twink beamed with a smile that made me sink into my shorts.

She walked over and kissed me on the cheek. I thought that I was going to die on the spot. I offered her my arm, and we floated to the door step in step. Yes, things were starting to look pretty good in GenChat...

As I started to close the door the phone rang. Twink sighed and gave me that “well go answer it” look.

The voice on the other end knocked my ranceros for a loop. It was as sweet as apple sauce at a church picnic. I could just imagine the curves behind that one.

“Hello?” she said with a waver of danger and desperation in her voice, “May I speak to an Al_B._Moonlight?”

“Talking to you sweetheart.”

“My name is Your-Eden. I’m in trouble, and the word in the rooms is when you’re in trouble go see Al_B._Moonlight.”

“That’s right, sister. Trouble is my middle name...”