“Bo Jo(u)” said Chuck, as he rolled up to the curb.
“Hail” said Groves, as he took a long slog from a bottle of quarry water.
“Acknowledgments all around” I said “I’d like to introduce you to my new friend, Mr. Mouse.”
Mr. Mouse jumped up onto the sidewalk and did four backflips. He then spun around, dropped to the ground, did the worm for eighteen and a half minutes, turned a sommersault, came out of it and spun on his head, walked on his hands for another eighteen and a half minutes, turned invisible, reappeared on the other side of the street, bounced back across on his tail, and said;
“Mr. Mouse is my sobriquet
I live downtown in a bona fide cave”
“Wowsers” said Groves.
“How did you know to stop at exactly eighteen and a half minutes?” asked Chuck.
“Chuck, baby, this isn’t about me. This is about Evil Wiener, my cave, big party. I got more connections than the internet. I’m seein’ stars. Three of ‘em. Whattaya say fellas? Are you in?”
Chuck and Groves looked at eachother, then at me.
“Does this mean...” said Groves.
“...That we have a gig” said Chuck.
“It sure as Christian Dior Extase Sunglasses with Lilac Lenses does” I said.
“That’s the mettle” said Mr. Mouse “So, let’s get right on this. Think advertising, getting the word out, shmoozing, networking. I can see billboards and skywriting in the future, but for now, let’s take a grass roots approach to things.”
Mr. Mouse reached up and pulled a poloroid camera out from behind my ear. It was wierd. I didn’t feel a thing! He snapped a picture of us, and while we were waiting for it to develop he reached up again, and this time pulled a sharpie brand magic marker from behind one of Groves’ whiskers.
“Mondo-cool” said Groves.
“Grape-fruit like” said Chuck (Chuck really likes Grapefruit)
Mr. Mouse wrote; “Come See Evil Wiener at the Cave” on the picture and hung it on a kiosk.
The four of us then walked from kiosk to kiosk, and at each one Mr. Mouse would take another picture, write on it, and then hang it up to advertise our big show.
Several times I noticed men in black capes, top-hats, and handle bar moustaches looming in the shadows around the kiosks, but I didn’t think anything of it.