Wednesday, July 04, 2007
New Beginning 308
The portico of Killer Kowalski's mansion – a burlesque of white marble, fake gold and real rust - glittered in the flashing red, yellow and blue lights of police vehicles. In the wake of the thunderstorm, clear skies brought spotlights from circling news helicopters picking out centurion-like patrolmen in plastic ponchos. An oval colonnade led away from either side of the portico leading to flanking archways marked "Snails" and "Nightingales." Nude sculptures filled a circular reflecting pool in the center.
A garage band and their van, more body putty and playbills than metal, stood to one side. The playbills screamed Squeezy and the Rump Rats Rock Band in hot pink on lime green. The license plate read "Festus." Jules downloaded its information. The band members wore fashionable vests over bare, tattooed torsos, baggy shorts, ankle height socks and reproduction sneakers. The tattooed names included various expressions of Mom, Betty, Latoya and Eat My Burrito.
"The dyed blond face fuzz is my snitch," Detective Reedy said. He marched toward the minstrels. “You're Squeezy, right?” he asked face fuzz.
Face fuzz nodded. "And this is E.Z., the axeman's Peasie, the drummer's Lemon. He's from Yemen.”
Reedy’s eyes scanned the inside of the van, while face fuzz furtively shuffled his feet. “What brings you to Killer Kowalski’s crib?”
Squeezy thrust a neon playbill into Reedy’s line of sight.
Reedy read: Killer Kowalski’s Christmas Concert. He eyelined face fuzz with a laser gauge stare. “In October?”
Squeezy shrugged. “He pays, we plays.”
A minute movement caught Reedy’s eye. A fifth guy, a wide brimmed fedora pulled low over his forehead perched on the pool edge. “Who’s the cat in the hat?”
“Seuss. He writes our lyrics; I think he's vampiric.”
Reedy looked around, shaking his head. What a total mess, he thought. And . . . also, a vampire.
Opening: Dave.....Continuation: Anonymous