War:  Cousins:  I Hates Meeses To Pieces  (2/2)

by Cousine Celeste

Appearance by McLisa and her buddy, the McMoose, with thanks

Behind the Raven during the party
Directly after “Spoonerisms Cake The Take”
July 6,  8:00pm or 9ish

 From the “Friendship vs. Factions!” chapter of “FK War for Dummies”:
“You should be aware that sometimes the people you think are your good,
true friends are actually screwing with your mind.  This phenomenon is most
prevalent in the various Cousinly factions.”


Ratsie ex-Cousin McLisa stood in the dramatic lighting of the Raven’s back
alley, holding the “bridle” -- actually a microphone cord -- of a large,
shiny-black plastic moose in her left hand.  Under her right arm was tucked
a large, old book with a worn leather cover.   The moose nickered softly,
which was kinda creepy because its face looked like a warmed-over death
mask of Lucien LaCroix.

“Where did you get this unhealthy-looking thing-from-hell?” Cousine Celeste
said conversationally.  “Oh, look.  I just answered my own question.”

“Isn’t he a sweetie?” said McLisa.  “I got him at the Thomas Booker Rare
Fish Library.” She stopped and thought a moment.  “No.  That was before.  I
got him from a park.  The one across the street from the Toronto Police
Station.”

“Well, sure; that’s where I get all my genetically-screwed-up moosies.  Did
he follow you home?”

“No.  Do you know, I was riding along on my moose, minding my own business,
and would you believe it, a police car stopped me?”

“The nerve!” said the Cousine, her voice heavy with irony.

McLisa shook her head sadly at the state of the Toronto Police
Department.  “Yes! It’s gotten so a person can’t ride her moose down the
streets of Toronto without being harassed by a member of the uniformed
constabulatory.”

“First they’re goin’ around hiring vampires, now this.  So what happened?”

“Well, it’s a funny thing about that.  The police car pulled up next to us,
lights flashing, as we were trotting down Oxbridge.  You know, I didn’t
think of it at the time, but perhaps they were upset that I’d taken their
moose.  I mean, it was right from outside their police station, maybe they
felt a little proprietarial about it.”

“Yeah.  I’m sure that’s what the problem was.”

“So, being a safe driver, naturally I pulled the moose over.  The cops get
out of the car and walk around me and the moose a few times, and I say,
very respectfully, ‘Is there anything wrong, officer?’  And the one cop
turns to the other cop and says, ‘You know, it’s only a few minutes to the
end of our shift, Augie.’  And the other cop says, ‘I was just thinking
that, Charlie.’  And the first cop says, ‘That’s why I’m so proud to be
your partner, Augie.’”

“That’s really sweet.  I love male-bonding.  It’s so much better than those
times they’re trying to beat the crap out of one another.”

“And then the two cops, Charlie and Augie, got back into the squad car and
took off.  It was actually rather rude, they didn’t even apologize for
inconveniencing me or frightening the moose or say good-bye or
anything.  So much for the myth that Toronto policemen are the most polite
in the world.”

Celeste restrained herself from clapping her hand to her forehead, knowing
from past experience that the sensation of her brain being on the verge of
exploding was merely an illusion.  “I don’t know, McLisa; I think you might
be selling the Toronto police force a little short there.  So… what are you
gonna do now?  You and the moose, I mean.”  The Cousine took an involuntary
step back when the unholy light everpresent in the eyes of the McRatsie
flared up.

“What am I gonna do?  I’m gonna live.  Take risks.  Paint the town a nice
shade of ruby-slippers-red!!  I’ll stick my tongue out at the rulebook and
squeak disdainfully at the finger-pointers who would squash my rats-ified
air of devil-may-care!  I’m gonna ha-cha-cha-cha!!!”  The demented
McRatpacker clutched the book to her chest as if it were her dance-partner
and did a little two-step.  Even the hell-spawned moose took a step back at
that, whickering nervously.  “Come on, Celeste!” continued McLisa,
hyperventilating, “this here’s a McMoose big enough for two to ride!  Don’t
be a zero, be a hero and climb aboard!  We’ll set the cosmos on its
ear!!!  Or at least, give it a wedgie it won’t soon forget!”

Celeste stood there, blank-faced.  She said nothing.  She didn’t move for
the longest time.  Eventually McLisa got on her moose and rode away, until
nothing but the distant clop-clop-clop of a set of four plastic hooves on
concrete could be heard, and then even that faded away.

Finally, the Cousine sniffed, rubbed her eyes dazedly, and turned in the
direction McLisa and her McMoose had gone.  “Yeah.  Okay, McLisa!” she
called out.  “I’ll take your invitation under advisement.  Muchas
gracias!  Via con dios!  Hasta la vista!  See ya later!”

Muttering distractedly to herself, Celeste tottered up the alley and
re-entered the Raven, where she had some cold cracked crab and sushi, and a
nice piece of red-velvet cake, whilst grooving to the cool off-key karaoke,
then later to the much better musical stylings of the Ravenette DJ.  She
avoided the cheese and cracker table for the remainder of the night, just
in case.


Continued in "Life's A Switch", then in "That's Like, Totally Bogus, Dude"

Cousine Celeste and Gozer the Gozarian
gozer@channel1.com