Bliss of Another Kind
"C'Mon, Mike, get up and dance!"
Michael Manna glared up at Al Sarven as he pressed down hard on the zoom button. "Be careful with that, it was a gift."
"I gave it to him last year." Mick Foley noted, nursing a beer. "The price tag's still on it."
"I didn't have a special occasion to use it," Michael retorted, pounding down a shot of Wild Turkey, "Until now."
"Your girlfriend dumping you's a special occasion?" Mick retorted.
"Yes it is," Michael informed him, "It means I can eat peanut butter directly out of the jar. With my fingers."
"Charming." Al retorted dryly.
"Waitress!" Michael bellowed, "Another round for my bosom chums!"
Mick smiled up at the waitress, "My Apologies. He's not like this."
"His girlfriend left him for a magician." Al said.
"Not just ANY magician," Michael said. "MR. Magnifico, last seen at the Small's Annual Back Yard Beef-O-Rama." He hiccuped.
"My condolences." The waitress responded, "Do you still want that round?"
"No thank you, just the check." Al said, over Michael's protests.
"But I want more!" He pouted petulantly.
"If there's one thing you need," Al said. "It isn't more."
"Get up, Mike," Mick said, "We're going dancing."
The Avalon was crowded, so much so that three wrestlers with gigantic fanny packs begging to be swiped didn't attract attention.
A song began to play over the loudspeakers, and it stopped Michael dead in his tracks. "I love this song!" He exclaimed.
"Father I
Killed My Monkey
I
Let It out To
Taste The Sweet of Spring"
"OK..." Al editorialized.
"Shssh..." Michael began to grind his hips to the beat, dancing with no one, but attracting some obvious female attention.
"Watch it, lady," Al said, "I'm a married man."
Mick was quietly ripping a phone number up.
"Wander
Yes
I will Wander out
Test my tether to
See if I'm still free from You."
The chorus sped up and Michael responded by writhing crazily.
"Steady as
It comes
Right down
To you.
I've said it all
So maybe we're a Bliss of Another Kind."
He fell back laughing crazily.
"Now I know why 'just saying no' is highly recommended." Al quipped.
Michael's smile wavered and his face turned green, "I have to go throw up now."
They managed to find an ally in the nick of time. When Michael finished, Al offered him a tissue.
"Thanks." He blew his nose.
"Don't mention it." Al said.
"My head's going to kill me tomorrow." Michael said, leaning back against the brick wall.
"We tried to tell you that." Mick said. "Now, let's go home."
"Let me throw this away first."
Michael gingerly opened the lid to a nearby Dumpster, plunked his Kleenex into it, then looked down.
A hand emerged from the Dumpster.
All three wrestlers screamed, and Michael backed away from the bin as if a vampire had suddenly seized hold of his limb.
They all gaped.
"What do we?" Michael asked.
"Call the police!" Al urged, and Mick dug his cell phone from the mess in his fanny pack. Al was already on a pay phone before 911 picked up.
Michael stared in transfixed shock at what owned the arm.
A woman with silvery blond hair and milky white skin.
Completely nude.
Except for a bracelet around her wrist.
"Mike, what does the bracelet say?" Mick asked.
Carefully, Michael leaned down, coming as close as he dared, fearing that he would disturb a possible crime scene. He tilted his glasses, fogged slightly from his sweating.
"To My Daughter T.A.D.:", He read. "On the occasion of her 18th year of life. "To thine Own Self Be True."