Us, being the fine human beings we were, decided Bob could tag along.
We wrestled him from the wolverine’s onslaught, tossed him into a pet carrier and went on our merry way.
“ID?” asked the bouncer as we entered to strip club.
After we showed him ours and he had commented me on how young I looked, he pointed at the carrier.
“No pets allowed, not even service animals.”
“Not a pet,” I said, pulling Bob from the carrier. “Just a tiny human.”
“ID?” asked the bouncer.
Bob showed him his ID and the bouncer laughed.
“You expect me to believe this?” he asked.
I thought about this for a moment, then spotted a hacksaw lying on the floor.
I then grabbed Bob by the hair and tilted his head so his neck was exposed.
With the hacksaw I cut deeply into his neck.
I tilted his head back some more and pointed at the open wound.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Count the rings.”
This the bouncer did.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “With that amount of rings I would expect him to be dead!”
We all laughed heartily.
Then we found a nice table in the corner and watched the dancers.
The HR lady and I talked about religion while Bob drooled.
A dancer finished her set and came over to our table.
“Lap dance? Maybe a drink for me since I’m might thirsty?” she asked.
The HR lady and I ignored her and continued our deep, intellectual conversation about current politics.
Bob continued to drool and ordered the dancer a $40 glass of water.
He drooled some more as he sat motionless, just staring at her.
She talked to him about how she was going to college and how this was just something to pay the bills.
Bob just sat and drooled and then began humming through the drool.
Then he found a half smoked cigarette on the floor.
He picked it up and then lit it up.
The dancer shrieked and fell off her chair.
She got up and brushed the peanut shells off her body.
Then she pointed at Bob.
“Look at his face!” she yelled at everyone in the bar. “It looks like a bowl of lumpy mashed potatoes!”
“Wolverine attack,” I said and then went back to my deep conversation about the current weather situation with the HR lady.
The bouncer walked over.
“You made Twinkles fall out of her chair?” he asked Bob.
Bob drooled and nodded.
The bouncer yanked Bob from his chair and tossed him onto a nearby stage.
“If you make a dancer fall off of their chair, then you must dance!” said the bouncer.
“And now, on stage 17, it’s the debut of…….ummmm……uhhhhh……..Mashed Potato Boy!” said the DJ.
The music started.
Lunatic Ravings is posted each Saturday.
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