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NORTHCO TRE: The Munchkins


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Wednesday came and there were still no signs of Frank. Sean had to take the shuttle to work from the project--as they like to call it. He told Bernice in accounting that the damn car was in for repairs.

I mean, he could not figure it out. The damn seat kept changing positions on him. He could hardly reach the brake peddle that morning. He was just using the electric switch to rearrange the seat weekly, or it seemed that way anyhow; but what if it screwed up while he was driving?

At 5:30 Sean knocked off and while he headed for the shuttle he 'noticed' THE CASTLE and decided to visit it for some repast. I mean he had been working double duty since Frank's absence. He deserved a break and since Sparky was gone and all........what the hay?


Moseying over to his table he stopped at the bar and ordered a pitcher of their finest.

Maria brought him his package in short time. God she's pretty. So diminutive, it occurred to him that the tray would be heavy for someone like her. Thank you Maria, Sean said after slipping her a five spot.  As she walked back to the bar all Sean could think about what her pretty mouth. Oh how he would like to put......

God I love this stuff, he thought.

Hey Seany, how in the fuck are you doin'?

Holy Christ its Tom from personnel. Smile...Jesus he hated this guy.

Hey Seany you got a sec? Tom asked.

Of course Tom, grab a chair. The party is here, Sean responded.

Tom sat down and Maria showed up out of nowhere with an extra mug. Oh God it's cold. You know I never get used to it, Tom thought. But the air is so clean and pure and the interrelationships are much better so he was glad he was out of St. Louis.

Tom grew up just outside of St. Louis. His mother was a member of the board for the local church and worked part time at the local lingerie shop. Dad sold used tires out of the garage but picked up enough money in his towing operation to fill the family needs. Raising seven kids was no easy feat, even in an all white suburb. Dad even made it on the City Council until those damn rumors about dealing weed started to surface. LIFE IS SO UNFAIR AT TIMES.

Maria brought over a tray of hors d'oeuvres that included those fried pickles. Best fried pickles he ever ate, thought Sean. God I hope he does not get into politics today, thought Sean.

You know that black bastard doesn't even have any right to sit in an oval office where all those heroes resided all those years. Those fucking liberals are now in charge and all they want is our money so they can help out people that aren't worth one goddamn...I think there is going to be another revolution comin and its no wonder. It's those goddamn voting machines you know, its all a plot to make us socialists and ...

SHUT THE FUCK UP. Tom, shut the fuck up.

Tom was startled. After all they were peers. Sean had no leverage over him. As a matter of fact Tom actually made more money than Sean. Who the hell is he to tell me to shut up.

Sorry Tom, Sean said while pouring him another beer. I just cannot take any politics today. You know I am much more concerned with Northco and Frank. I mean Frank has been gone ten days and it's a mess on the third floor and all. At any rate I'm sorry. Let's just keep it at that. OK?

Sean never knew his dad and his mom had been an actress, in those exotic movies of the fifties and early sixties. There had just been he and Billy.  But he remembered Ralph. Ralph was his best friend in those days. One day Ralph just showed up and stayed at Sean's home until both he and his brother graduated from high school.

Ralph was a tall, good looking Black man and Sean could not stand racist clap trap. No matter how drunk he got.

Okay, okay...I am just upset about where this country is headed is all

All of a sudden Bernice from accounting came by and both the gentlemen invited her in.

Why thank you, Bernice said. Bernice really like those fried pickles and secretly had a thing for Sean. She really liked Frank but he scared her for some reason.

Sean was self conscious when Bernice was around. My god I am 49 years old and a woman can still make me nervous. When the fuck am I goin to grow up anyway, he thought. He loved watching Bernice eat those fried pickles. She would take a slow bit after it entered her mouth; she kind of just sucked on the morsel a bit and her lips would purse up so pretty and.........geeeeeeez get a goddamn grip son!!!

Any word on Frank, Sean? Bernice had been a little more than just upset over Frank's absence. That was clear to Sean if not to others in management.

The trio ordered dinner and while they supped a troop of troubadors appear, properly dressed in old English attire. There were five of them, and something struck Sean immediately.

THEY ARE ALL SO SHORT.

Have you ever seen these guys before Bernice?

Oh, Sean you never play here on Wenesday's and this is a regular 'spot' for this band. The Gay Mandolins, they are called.

HELLO CASTLE DWELLERS, WE ARE THE GAY MANDOLINS AND WE PRESENT TO YOU ALL A SONG OF HOPE:

 

Something in the ale that moves

That tastes just like no other

Something in the ale that woo woos me

I cannot just leave it now

Don't think I'll go right now

DOO DOO DO DO DO DO

Somewhere in this pint is gold

I don't need no other lover

Something in her style is not lonely

Don't want to leave right now

I'll just stick around right now

 

You're asking me will other hops grow

Who will sow them, I don't know

Others may try to brew and brew

If I knew, if I knew

 

Something in the ale is gold
And all I have to do is drink of her
Something in the ale that moves me

Don't want to leave her now
You know I believe her now

Do do do do do do

 

Yeah. Cried the crowd on onlookers.

Great song sparkled Bernice.

Sean smiled and nodded. But inside, he was scared shiteless. These little people with painted faces frightened the bejeesus out of him. He was sweating profusely and his right hand was trembling as he slugged down some more ale.

I better go, I have an early start tomorrow, Sean said leaving a twenty on the table.

You took the shuttle, right Sean? inquired Bernice.

Ah, yeah. Sean had forgotten he had no car.

Well I should go also, mind if I tag along on the shuttle?

As they left the Gay Mandolins began singing:

We represent the NORTHCO-op guild

The NORTHCO-op guild

The NORTHCO-op guild

We represent the NORTHCO-op guild

And in the name of the NORTHCO-op guild

We wish to welcome you to Castle Grand!!!


Oh Sweet Jesus Sean sighed as the two escaped into the cool night.

Sean awoke to heavy snoring. WHAT THE FU......?

He looked around. It seemed like his room, facing east...same dimensions. He turned to his right and there was Bernice. My god she needs one of those nose things or something. He crawled out quietly and grabbed his under things and put on his pants. Where is my goddamn shirt, anyway?

As he turned to leave from the darkened room--the sun had not yet risen and the drapes were the old fashioned thick sort that let no light into the room; Sean saw her right foot glowing in the dark as it fell out from beneath the blanket. Not one for a night light this Bernice; but with her gifts she probably does not need one.

He managed to get out into the cold morning air. Oh, that Bernice has a way, let me tell yoooooooooooo. Wow!! But he had to cleanup and such for work and it was a good thing that his house was only three blocks from here.

Where did someone like Bernice learn how to do some of those things anyway? Christ, she could do this act professionally.

As he got closer and closer to his yard he noticed a figure by his door laid out with an orange ball. What the h.........

He increased his pace and as he got closer to his front door he saw it was a man. IT WAS FRANK. And the ball was ...could that be Sparky?

Frank stood up. He looked like something the dog dragged in. His clothes were ripped and filthy. He had not shaved and his face was filthy.

Frank!!! What the hell happened? You look like shite.

Sean? Holy cow, what the hell am I doing here?

Sean quickly unlocked the door and shuffled Frank in, Sparky sparkled with excitement, following the two roués inside and quickly running over to his feeding dish in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Sean shuffled Frank into the living room and helped him onto the sofa. Here, let me get you some water.

Sean ran into the kitchen and, putting some ice in a glass he ran some tap water and rushed to his friend's aid.

Frank scarfed it down. You want some more Frank?

Uh..uh...how about juice?

Sure be right back. Sean fixed some coffee and poured some juice while it brewed and brought the glass back to Frank.

What the hell happened? Did we go to the Castle last nice Sean?

Holy crap. Maybe I should call 911 or something.

NO NO NO NO. Sean just let me ...let me gather myself. After I get home I will clean up. Tell them I will be in tomorrow. Geeeeeeeez this is my vacation. What the hell date is it?

It is October 23rd Frank. You have been on vacation and this is the Thursday after that week already ran. Frank the authorities have been looking for you for at least three days. This'll be the fourth.

Say what? Vacation, I never...suddenly Frank recalled Fargo and Kevin and the casino. But how the hell did he end up on Sean's front stoop?

Just then they both heard something in the drive way. Oh good its my car, just a sec Frank.

Sean ran outside the front door. The driver got out of the vehicle and there was the autoshop's car on the street waiting.

Just sign here Mr. Santana.

Sean looked at the document and signed quickly taking the keys.

What the hell was wrong with it Sid?

Nothing Mr. Santana. Not a darn thing. Sid said as he turned his back to get to his car waiting in the street.

Sean suddenly remembered Ma's favorite line:

THANKS, THANKS FOR NOTHIN'!!!!

After getting inside again Sean fixed the coffee and sat with Frank awhile. They spoke of Fargo and Sean promised to be discrete. Frank was in no mood to talk of his stature problem. Sean spoke of the 'munchkins' singing at the Castle.

Do you suppose the munchkins were the little people we saw in the garage and on the fourth floor Sean?

I thought of that.  Who knows? They certainly had the right stature if you get my drift. But they were wearing costumes and it really was not something I wished to check out. I just wanted to go elsewhere.

Speaking of elsewhere, where were you last night?

Oh I...well Frank a man has needs!!!

Oh yeah. Hahahahahahaha. What's her name...nonono...don't tell me, I have no time for soap operas right now.

What is the last thing you remember Frank?

Right now, all I remember is that I was driving home from Fargo on th..Friday. Yeah, that's it Friday. And for some goddamnable reason I ended up on the old road. Remember the old road, Sean. It was supposedly abandoned for the new road because of 'ground' problems. Supposedly there were running water problems so they were going to simply destroy it and, I suppose, cover it owver and let it mesh into the surrounding forest.  Well, it is still there. Nothing wrong with it.

Any way I saw something in the road or alongside the road or some such. I get out of my car on the side of the road and............blank. Nothing. Nada.  Until I wake up here. With that mutt of yours. Which reminds me, do you realize that Spanky glows in the dark?

Yeah yeah yeah. But its Sparky.

What do I tell them at work Frank?

Tell Sphincter--aint it funny how some people have names that really describe them well--you got a call from me. That I had car problems and I was coming into town  this morning and will make it to the office tomorrow.

Speaking of cars, where the hell is your car Frank?

I do not have the faintest idea Sean.


30 Comments

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With her 'gifts' she didn't need a nightlight! ho ho ho!

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hahahahah. Good line huh?

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Oy, Dickon!

=D

Totally recc'd

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thanks Bwak. A little slow tonite.

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The Gay Mandolins, eh? Freaky little clown people that sing parody at the alehouse in the middle of nowhere. Tsk, tsk, Mr. Day. The day-glo dog and the lilac flavored deer and the chick with the Cheetos dusted feet are all within the norm in my unimaginable imagination. However, I must draw the line at freaky little clown people that sing parody. I mean, really. How dare you fuck with George Harrison's masterpiece? Is nothing sacred to you, man?

;o)

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hahahahaha. Flower, I shall watch my step after this. But remember, I am plowing new ground, or fertizing new ground or..........

OH FORGET IT. AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

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Well, while you are out there on the ground, try not to step in any of that radioactive rabbit poop.

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Great stuff as always, DD!

You are the prince of segues!

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Oh Cville. You get it!!! Makes me feel so gooooood.

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OK. So we got folks shrinking, and the beginning of an epidemic of "glowing." Does NORTHCO reside anywhere near the Hanford Nuclear Facility? The jackrabbits there are spreading radioactive plutonium around What's up, Doc? Radioactive rabbit poop at Hanford. Sparky may have been out there snacking on jackrabbits. If so, he/she might be patient zero of this epidemic.

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I got the idea from a doc on history channel. These people were dying and they traced it to the river.

The factory--no nuclear--was denying any problems.

One of the people residing there said:

WHAT THE F.. ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT. I SAW BLUE RABBITS YESTERDAY. BLUE RABBITS!!!

Once they get into the water, rivers, ground water...we are screwed Rowan. Of course you know that.

Oh and thanks for this link. Maybe I can incorporate it.

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okay lollipop gang here, and on mibbit, totally unrelated; and i bring up the radioactive rabbits and now i find the glowing rabbits of hanford here. Something is afoot.

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The game is afoot, afoot actually glows and sparky, well he is just sparky. hahahaha

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Hmmmmmm

Great song sparkled Bernice.

Sparky sparkled with excitement...

I'd say you have Sparkle Plenty, daughter of B.O. Plenty and Gravel Gertie.

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I'll be damned. 1947. wow

I certainly was playing with 'sparkle' no doubt about it.

Jeeeeeez now you got me thinkin' on this. I started this just playin with something in the ale.

Sometimes the structure just appears. I do not know if there will be 240 pages with pix in this one, but I do not think I will be done with this for sometime. 48 hours is my goal per chapter. Hell that is a lot by xmas. ha

Just thinkin on paper with you here Seashell.

Thank you for the link. Like I said you got me thinkin.

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You're welcome! You got me thinkin', too. Northco does have a bit of the ole Dick Tracy 'sparkled' through it. Here's 4 pages of mug shots for 200 of the characters in the Tracy series. If nothing else, let the names inspire you!

First page
includes Baldy Stark, Larceny Lou, Supeena and Brighton Spotts and 46 more. These are hilarious.

Second page has B-B Eyes, FlatTop and Mrs. Pruneface and 47 other shady characters.

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I'm repeating myself, but: Great, Dick! It's never fair to compare a writer to another, but there is something of a Minnesota Murakami in you. I'm thinking in particular of his Hardboiled Wonderland.

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Did Murakami do a lot of hard drugs? And I mean REALLY hard drugs, Obey. You ever put a cue ball in a sock, whirl it around real fast, and hit yourself in the side of the head with it?

That's considered a legitimate path to a cheap weekend's entertainment in Minnesota.

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HAHAHA. Dude, He's JAPANESE. They don't whack you with a ball for fun, they just whack you with a WALL

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Obey, I watched the whole clip -- it was hilarious! Thanks!

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You're welcome CVille. I have a thing for wierd japanese humor. Care for another?

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I could not figure out how in the hell you whack someone with a wall.

But there it is. And the guy will do this brave pose attempting to fit into the..........

You know, if they had the weapons, the Japanese could be as f....ed up as us.

Thank you for the kind words Obey.

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Yeah Q but soon, you know as well as I do that you can build those neat snow walls with square crates. I always put mine at the bottom of a hill and then just SNOW BOARD RIGHT SMACK DAB INTO THEM.

I tell you, nothin like it. Better than dead crappie slingin.

The ball in the sock thing is just an interim measure. Like listenin to the radiator late at night when tv reception is lost in the wind.

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Yeah, that old radiator trick of the Brits.

"You are now listening to BBC, Radiator One."

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Whew! So, the dog is going to be okay?

Will they ever get the blue out, do ya think?!?!

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Hi Gregor. I think there was a laundry commercial awhile back asking the same thing.

How much crap would I find myself in if I tortured old Sparky. This puts me in quite a quandary as they say.

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DD, I just love this stuff.

Really.

*We,* however, don't deserve it. There must be some way to package it for general consumption. It would take discipline, and a slight bit more editorial anal-ism, but you can do it somehow, mate.

Love the line, "Holy Christ its Tom from personnel. Smile...Jesus he hated this guy."

BTW, it's "it's." Don't be mad at me for that; I'm really in awe and I ain't kiddin'.

I don't awe-up none too easily neither; ain't no fricking sycophant. I do *love* that line, "Jesus, he hated this guy!" Ha-ha-hah! Added plus is no out-of-key Judy damn Collins; who's gonna not like *that?!*

BTW, I figure, the "old road?" That's just an old-fashioned mixup; it don't confront me none. Old, new? It's chronological is all! Plus it seems that Frank stayed out of the bar for three days, how can that be bad? Also, the boss told him to take some time off and he obliged; probably cruisin' for a raise and this whole thing will just die down, luminescent pant legs and all. Swamp gas on the prairie is all!

SO, SO, GOOD!! THANKS AGAIN!!!

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Jesus a real critique. And you liked it.

I screw up with 'its' all the time. I caught to of them and missed this third. Which tells me I use the damn word toooooo much in the first place. Sometimes I eschew contractions, all of them as part of my persona. But of course I cannot create characters without playing with their dialogue INSTEAD OF MINE!!! HA

And you already know, six to eight hours can create a rough chapter. But editing takes more time to 'smooth' the edges.

I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to read through this, I mean really read through it all. You can see my friends show up here and are really interested. Traffic is light the last few days but I have never led the blogs with my fiction.

THIS IS A FIRST. HAHA

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Is Northco the northpole? Does melting or shrinking from toxic chemicals mean the end? I’m really activated what with the mandolin munchkins trying to do cover songs and all. The Gay Mandolins have increased my capacity for radiant absorption, somewhat like the winger you so dolefully describe. Frank could use a friend from the Tao to stabilize his liminal reaction to shrinkage and your tantalizing taglines. GREAT story D!

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Oh thank you Strato, actually a new character for Sunday would confuse Northco with the north pole...but that is another episode. hahaahaha

And Frank, he might not be able to minimize--as they say--so easily in the weeks to come. Ha!

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dickday

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