TALE SPIN: LOUIE’S RISTORANTE
Fan-fiction
adaptation by jb
Based on the Disney Adventures #1 comics short; story by Bobbi J.G. Weiss
Disclaimer:
The following story is based on the television series, characters and
situations, created by Jymn Magon & Mark Zaslove, Tale
Spin © 1990-1991 Buena Vista
Television/Walt Disney Company and W.D. Publications. This is an adapted work of
fan-fiction, using characters and property of the Walt Disney Company without
consent and for non-profit use. Some artistic liberties were taken to add more
dramatic and humourous effect on the storyline.
SOCK! BAM!! POW!!!
A canine pilot had grabbed a fox by the leg and swung him around wildly,
taking out three other pilots in one sweep, sending them scattering clear across
the room…
SMASH!!!
A root beer keg had shattered upon a patron’s head by another patron,
knocking him unconscious, while being showered with the brownish beverage and
broken wooden staves…
CRASH!!
By the side, a rhinoceros hurled a chair over his head that hit the wall,
missing his intended target…
OOF!
An unfortunate bear patron dazedly tried to regain his senses in a pool
of sassafras syrup after being caught in the mêlée...
…And meanwhile in the background, the house band played a slow blues
number, hoping to distract the customers, as some of the patrons danced with the
hired private dancers tried to ignore the bar fight in progress.
It was just another average night at Louie’s
Place...
“WHERE’S THAT BEAR??!” roared a voice over the din.
The Rustralian accent echoed throughout the nightclub, belonging to a
corpulent razorback boar clad in a pith helmet and khaki jacket that covered him
completely. He was in more than a furious mood, as he searched the place for his
quarry.
He then spotted the nightclub owner, Louie, to which he charged toward
with great speed, grabbed him by the lapels and held him up above the floor,
his feet dangling.
“Where’d that fat bear go?!” he growled.
Out the back door, thought Louie nervously, if he’s smart!
“Just calm down, cuz!” he
said, trying to placate the rambunctious razorback by keeping him occupied while
his friend made a clean getaway. “How ‘bout a root beer on the house?”
“I don’t wanna go outside! I want the bear – and
the drink – in here!”
Just
then, the service door of Louie’s Place
swung wide open and out dashed Baloo with his twelve-year old navigator and
charge, Kit Cloudkicker. Brushing off the wood splinters and glass shards, they
quickly made their way back to the Sea
Duck.
“You shouldn’t have
picked on his table manners, Baloo!” scolded Kit.
“But, Kit, he ate like a
–”
“I know,” he interjected,
“But you shouldn’t have said
so!”
The grey pilot replayed the memory in his head…
Just ten minutes ago, he and Kit
were just having the usual house special, the Krakatoa Sundae, when this wild
game hunter boar entered the nightclub, back from a four-day hunting trip in
Boarneo; ordering practically everything on Louie’s menu – twice.
He didn’t think about it at the time, until the waiters came out with
the game hunter’s order and pounded down everything with such slovenly gusto,
that it shocked everybody, including himself.
Even he went through a plate of spaghetti with more finesse than
that.
It was then he made the fateful quip out loud: “Gee, Kit – I’ve
never seen
a walkin’ landfill before...”
Upon hearing him, the boar looked up from his plates and glared at the
pilot.
“What… did…you…say, mate?!”
“Nothin’ – just
that you could make a picture perfect definition of ‘eatin’ like a pig’ in
the dictionary, buddy. Somebody call Webster’s, will ya?”
To that, the boar’s eyes went bloodshot red, toppled aside the table he
was sitting at to the floor with the flick of his wrist, grabbed the chair he
was sitting in and hurled it at the huge bear, splintering into many pieces.
Luckily, the two bears ducked in time as it hit the bar they were sitting
at, therefore instigating the complete anarchy that they had just left behind…
Now hurrying towards the Con-Wing L-19 seaplane, Kit went ahead of the
pilot, undoing the mooring ropes as Baloo sped toward the waiting service
mechanics. Grabbing the clipboard he was handed upon approach, he furiously
scribbled his usual illegible signature for the fuel tab paid.
“Sorry, fellas! In a run – no time fer a tip!” he babbled,
haphazardly tossing the clipboard over his shoulder which one of them caught; as
he rushed into the Sea Duck. “Tell
Louie I’m sorry ‘bout back there! Ta-ta!”
“Started
another bar fight again?” said one of the mechanics nonchalantly.
His
partner looked back at the place and saw three people go smashing through the
window all at once.
“Looks
like it,” he commented laconically.
Within seconds after Kit unmoored the plane, the engines roared to life. Soon, they were up
and onward back to their home port of
Heaving a sigh of relief, the navigator then looked at his watch and
cringed.
“Nice timing, Papa Bear…we’re just six hours late in getting back
home.”
“Hey, that’s an improvement – we were eight
hours last time, L’il
Britches.”
“Baloo…”
“What’s the biggie? We’re only pickin’ up Zizzer-Zoof seeds,
which nobody wants, ‘cuz nobody needs.”
“Tell that to the five salesmen in the Vale of Va-Vode that…and to Miz Cunningham.”
“Aw, man…what are we gonna come up with this time?”
Kit looked at him disdainfully. We?...
Flying into the Asia-Pacifica metropolis thirty minutes later, the Sea
Duck quickly glided into its harbourside dock at Higher for Hire. Cutting
off the engines, its flight crew bailed out of the plane and ran towards the
office.
“Better go to the cargo holding room,” the navigator suggested. “So
we don’t disturb Miz Cunningham.”
“Good thinkin’, Ace,” said Baloo. “Now, don’t go tellin’
Rebecca we were at Louie’s! We – uh – we ran outta gas! Yeah!
That’s it! The Sea Duck sprang a fuel leak! How’s that sound?”
“Better than another pirate fib,” Kit responded as they approached
the doors while the huge pilot fumbled with the key to the lock, trying to be as
quiet as possible.
“Fib?!” he said, unlocking the door and entering inside. “It’s
not a fib! It’s just a little white…”
“You’re late! Again!”
stated a stern voice. “You were supposed to pick up cargo at five o’clock!”
The voice belonged to Rebecca Cunningham.
Baloo stopped dead in his tracks. “…Oops.”
Told you, Kit thought, but also
felt stupid for mentioning the storage room diversion in the first place.
About three months ago, the businesswoman had taken over the fledgling
cargo freight service from the pilot when he failed to pay his outstanding bank
loan that she had bought lock, stock and barrel, including the Sea
Duck.
She had been staying in the spare bedroom upstairs with her five-year old
daughter Molly, due to the repair work in her apartment that was in
near-completion, which had been damaged during the giant octopus attack that
ravaged her kitchen four weeks ago.
Now she was standing in her fluffy white slippers and purple bathrobe with a white hem and cuffs in the middle of the cargo holding area, hands firmly placed on her hips and looking totally annoyed with her flight crew, if not bedraggled.
Tomorrow, she was going to move back to her place. A date
Baloo wished was now…
“Y’know,” he began, sweating just a little with a strained smile as
Kit whistled innocently to himself, “we had the darnedest
luck! We sprang a –”
“I’ll tell you where you
were at five o’clock!” she interrupted. “Louie’s! Right?”
“I’m tellin’ ya –”
“It’s always Louie’s! You
risk your job, you risk my
career, for Louie’s! Tell me,
Baloo – what’s so great about
Louie’s?!”
“Yeah, Baloo,” repeated Kit, watching the pilot getting raked over
the coals by their employer and grinning mischievously. “What is so great about Louie’s?”
“Kit, yer not helpin’
none,” the pilot muttered out the side of his mouth.
“I’m waiting, mister!”
The petite she-bear had him on the spot and even Baloo was having a hard
time trying to do his formulaic song-and-dance routine. What was he going to
say? Hot jazz and cool blues…the
drinks…camaraderie with the other pilots… billiards…darts…and the
two-for-one coupon for Louie’s world famous, innards-melting, twelve-alarm
chili burritos?...
“So great? ‘Bout Louie’s? Why – why it’s the most…I’ve never found
a…there’s so much…” he stammered before finally concluding in
exasperation, “Aw, Rebecca! I can’t explain it…you’d never
understand!”
Anyway, it ain’t no place fer a lady like yerself...
“Fine! If you can’t explain
it, then you’ll have to take me
there! Tomorrow night!”
Baloo was in shock. What??!
“I’ll expect dinner!”
“T-t-tomorrow n-n-night?? D-dinner?” he sputtered.
“Why? Is that a problem?”
“Uh…ahh…no! Not at
all!”
“Good!” she said as she headed upstairs to bed. “If I’m going to
lose this business over some restaurant,
I’d at least appreciate knowing what the place looks like!”
The pilot’s heart sunk right down to his knees.
Restaurant?!
He knew very well that the minute she stepped into Louie’s Place and see that it was nothing but a refuelling station
that doubled as a rowdy nightclub and motel right off the coast of Cape Suzette,
not only would he lose his flying rights to his baby, he’d never hear
the end of it.
I’m so dead!
“B-Baloo!” the navigator noted as they heard the bedroom door close.
“She thinks it’s a restaurant!
How’re you gonna tell her –”
“I’m not!” he said,
running out of the cargo holding area and towards the phone booth located just a
few paces from Higher for Hire with Kit in tow. “But we’re gonna tell Louie!
I just hope I own a tie!”
“Fer
a gal who’s up an’ all ‘bout promptness an’ stuff, she sure takes her
sweet ol’ time in gettin’ here.”
The
pilot waited for the businesswoman the next evening on the pier outside Higher
for Hire, pacing nervously and muttering under his breath, as Wildcat was doing
some last-minute tinkering with the Sea Duck. He had donned his leather
bomber jacket, best dress shirt and a green and black diagonally-striped tie –
which took him a good half-hour to do up – making him look reasonably
presentable.
“Will
you relax, Baloo?” said Kit, sitting atop a pier stand, waiting along with
him. “You’re making me tired watching you pace.”
“I’m
more worried ‘bout how Louie’s gonna pull this restaurant thing on Becky
than anythin’ else, Kit.”
“Didn’t
he tell you what he was going to do?”
“Nope
– just tol’ me he got an idea an’ said to bring her ‘round seven-thirty,
nothin’ more,” said Baloo, looking at his watch for the umpteenth time in
ten minutes.
In
the short time he had known him, Kit had never seen his Papa Bear act this
nervous, let alone get spruced up, before. Heck, he’d even seen him clear out
the Sea Duck this afternoon, getting
it ready for tonight like he was going on a…date.
And where, he
queried, did he get that tie from?
“Is
that the real reason you’re nervous…or is it ‘cause you’re taking out
the lady boss out to dinner?”
The
huge bear turned to the navigator with a quizzed look on his face.
“C’mon,
Ace…yer makin’ it all sound like it’s some kinda date.”
“Isn’t
it?” the youngster teased.
“Maybe
he’s plannin’ a big surprise birthday party for her over there,” suggested
the mechanic who had just finished his task on the seaplane, cutting off
Baloo’s planned retort.
“It
ain’t her birthday, Wildcat.” At
least, not that I know of…
“A
comin’ out party?...”
“That
happens when you’re close to seventeen or eighteen,” explained Kit.
“Then,
boy, has she got a lotta catchin’ up to do!”
Both
bears looked at each other, rolled their eyes and sighed.
“Wildcat…”
said the grey pilot querulously, “go do somethin’ mechanical, will ya?”
“Good
idea,” Wildcat agreed absent-mindedly, walking back to his floating shack.
“I’ll go work on my electric bathtub…needs an extension cord or two –
an’ a rubber ducky.”
Kit
was about to open his mouth to comment on that befuddled statement, when Baloo
answered him plainly: “Even I don’
wanna know, Li’l Britches.”
Suddenly,
light beams flashed before the two, then cutting off. The source came from
Rebecca’s car that had just driven up.
“Well,
it’s ‘bout time,” Baloo grumbled. “Women…”
Now who’s impatient?
Kit thought, hiding a smile under his hand.
“Sorry
for being late,” apologized Rebecca as she stepped out of the car, locked the
door and walked over. “Molly’s babysitter came to the wrong apartment
building a block away from mine and the midtown traffic at this hour was unbelievable...”
Baloo
and Kit could hardly believe the vision set in front of them…
The
she-bear, who last night looked like a frump in her bathrobe; had on this
elegant magenta strapless gown with a white band above the hem flowing down to
her ankles that clipped at her modest figure with matching pumps and purse.
Her
face was gorgeously made over with a whisper of Orient
Empress fragrance about her and she
was wearing pearl-attached earrings, a diamond ring, Art Deco-etched
golden bracelets, a beaded necklace with a gold Art Deco medallion and a long
white faux mink stole luxuriously draped over her bare shoulders, giving
her a sophisticated look from head to toe.
“What?”
Rebecca asked, puzzled at her pilot’s dead
silence; looking down at her own ensemble as if something was missing. “Am
I…overdressed?”
Overdressed? I
didn’t think ya even had a dress!
“Huh??”
said Baloo, snapping back to the present.“Um… no, not in the least, Beckers.”
“You
look fabulous, Miz Cunningham,” Kit complimented
her.
“Thanks,”
she smiled. “So, are we ready, Fly Boy?”
Still
mesmerized by his employer’s appearance, the pilot awkwardly gestured toward
the Sea Duck. “Y-yer chariot awaits,
lady…uh…I’ll be with ya in a minute.”
“Thank
you, Captain.”
As
the petite businesswoman walked toward the plane, the two bears watched her,
before turning back to each other, only Kit had that knowing smirk on his face
that clearly telegraphed the “told you so”
look.
“Awesome.”
“Don’t
look at me like that,” Baloo warned,
his eyes narrowing. “I can just feel
ya lookin’ at me like that.”
“Looks
like she’s expecting a lot more out of Louie’s than
you first thought, Baloo,” said Kit,
sliding off the pier post and landing onto the boardwalk. “I hope Louie can
pull a miracle out of a sow’s ear tonight.”
“Ya
ain’t the only one,” muttered the pilot.
“Later,
Papa Bear,” the adolescent said as he walked back inside Higher for Hire with
a laugh, “Try not to get any hickeys
tonight on the first date.”
“Git
outta it,” growled Baloo playfully, marching off toward the mooring lines.
But
as he was undoing them, a funny feeling came over him and started reminding
himself for some reason: Don’t be gettin’
any ideas
there, pal…she’s just the boss an’ nothin’ else...I’m gonna sit across
the table, chew with my mouth closed, laugh at her stupid jokes an’ that’s all
I’m gonna do.
This
definitely ain’t no date...
Baloo
boarded the seaplane, locked the hatch and headed for the cockpit where Rebecca
was already seated in the co-pilot’s chair, buckling her seatbelt.
“How
long will it take to get there?” she asked.
“‘Bout
half-an-hour, more or less,” he answered, plopping into his seat. He started
up the Sea Duck’s engines, switched on the navigator lights, taxied from
the pier and took off into the evening sky.
The
she-bear looked around the cockpit and said: “Is it my imagination or is this
plane actually clean?”
“Oh,
just gave it an l’il spruce job, that’s all.”
“I
thought there was something out of place around
here,” she quipped.
Hope that’s the
only thing you’ll figger out tonight, Becky.
The
pilot grabbed the hand-held receiver. “Sea Duck to Traffic Control…requestin’
permission to clear the cliffs. Over.”
“Control
to Sea Duck, we have a ten-minute delay. Please remain within the city air
corridor until cleared to leave. Over.”
Great – a holdin’
pattern...
“Roger,
Control. Will remain in the corridor as instructed – Sea Duck over an’
out.” Baloo turned to Rebecca. “Sorry ‘bout the delay, Beckers.”
“It’s
okay, no big deal,” she replied nonchalantly. It got quiet in the plane for a
moment until she then asked: “Umm…while we’re waiting, Baloo…can we fly
around the city?”
“Uh…what
for?”
“Oh…just
to look. That’s all.”
“It’s
yer plane…why not?” Nothin’ else better to do, anyway. It’ll keep my mind offa things at
Louie’s.
With
that, he turned the plane around and circled high above
Baloo
glanced at her. “Pretty night, ain’t it?” he said, making a little small
talk.
“I’ve
never seen the city from the air at night before,” she said. “It’s
incredible.”
“Doncha
get a view of it from yer apartment?”
“Yes,
but…it’s not exactly the same.”
“I’da
thought ya came here by plane.”
“By
ship, actually. I had my belongings in storage until I bought the business.”
An’ ruined my life,
Baloo ruefully thought.
Then
it suddenly occurred to him that this had to be the longest conversation they
ever had together alone. He was a simple bear that didn’t ask that many
questions about his employer, where she had come from and all that personal
stuff. Neither was he the type to pry into other people’s business unless
absolutely necessary.
And
he wasn’t too forthcoming about himself, either.
“Control
to Sea Duck, you are clear to leave, over.”
The
controller’s voice returned him back from his thoughts and fumbled with the
hand-held receiver, replying: “Sea Duck to Control – read ya crystal clear.
Makin’ our way through the cliffs. Over an’ out.”
The
Con-Wing L-19 broke away from the city, across the harbour and toward the inner
cliff corridor. Within minutes, they passed the outer cliffs and made a sharp
port turn into the horizon.
“Well,”
announced Baloo with a slight nervousness in his voice. “Off ta Louie’s.”
“You
did make reservations now, did you?”
“Sure!”
replied the pilot quickly. “Sure did, Beckers…best table in the
house.” I hope…
“Good,”
said the she-bear, giving a little laugh. “Men are usually so
forgetful about these things. I remember when –”
She then stopped talking, feeling her mouth becoming tight and dry.
“
‘Member what?”
“Um…nothing.
Really,” she said monotonically, turning her head to the window, staring at
the dark ocean beneath the plane with her chin propped into the right palm and
crossing her legs underneath her gown.
Baloo
just shrugged and continued flying.
Forget about it,
Rebecca, she
thought forlornly. That life no longer
exists anymore…
The
remainder of the flight was flown in silence.
In
a while, the neon-flickering Louie’s
Place sign came within visual range.
“So…is
that it?” said Rebecca, pointing out the billboard in the distance.
“Y-yep,”
gulped Baloo. Well, on with the show…
“You
look nervous, Baloo…is there something wrong?”
“Nothin’,
Becky,” he replied, then added: “Just…thought we’d be late an’
that.”
As
they descended, Rebecca took out her compact from her purse, studied herself in
the mirror for a moment and lightly dusted her muzzle, then added quick touches
of mascara to her lashes.
Coming
on the approach, the launching lights in the natural harbour lead the Sea
Duck to the nearest available docking pier that Baloo moved into.
The
businesswoman noticed the substantial traffic in the marina and commented as she
unbuckled her seatbelt: “My…this seems like a pretty popular place,
considering the location.”
“Well…”
said Baloo, shutting down the plane, “Louie knows how ta pick ‘em.”
As
she gathered up her purse and stole, Baloo
looked upwards and made a mental prayer as she walked out of the cockpit, Man,
don’t let Louie screw this thing up.
He
unlocked the hatch and they both stepped out of the plane, where two of
Louie’s station crewmembers were waiting. “Uh…give ‘er half a tank full
an’ don’t monkey with the radio, guys,” he instructed, as Rebecca slipped
her arm around his forearm.
“Yes,
sir!”
Watching
the couple walk away, the two monkeys got an eyeful of Rebecca. “Whoa! That’s
the boss lady Baloo’s always complaining about?” commented one of them.
“Hey,
if working for her is torture like he says, then chain me
to the wall!” said his partner, following a low, appreciative whistle.
Upon
nearing the nightclub, she then made an observation about her pilot.
“Baloo!
I didn’t think you owned a tie!”
“I
didn’t,” he said, not offering an explanation,
before continuing, “Look, Rebecca, ya look real pretty, but maybe you should
tone it down, maybe take the jewellery off.”
“Why?”
“Well…”
he began uneasily as he opened the door, “this place can be a little –”
Entering
the establishment, the two bears saw the place had been tidied up to a point,
apart from the Tiki masks that hung in suspension; that even Baloo himself
couldn’t recognize. Roughly-patched tablecloths swathed all the tables with
lit candles centred for the finishing touch. The waiters and house band – even
some of the customers! – were respectfully dressed in jackets and ties.
“Arriverderci
Roma” was played to set the ambience of the evening. A couple of patrons and a
waiter winked conspicuously at the pilot letting them know they were in on the
game, that all he could do was finally mutter in amazement:
“…rough...”
he
finished lamely.
“Ah,
Baloo, my best customer!” Louie sauntered
up to them in a blue dress jacket and red bowtie, just like the musicians
but wearing his familiar hat. He
said in an impeccably cultured voice, “And
madam, welcome to Louie’s Ristorante of Italiano! I’m Louie, your host!”
Baloo
was still dazed over the transformation until the primate brought him out of it
by his familiar tone: “Can I seat you, cuz?”
“Um…uh,
yeah! Um, Louie, this here’s my boss, Rebecca Cunningham…the one I told
ya ‘bout.”
“Ah,
yes! My main man’s told me all about you! And don’t you look
mighty exquisite tonight, la mia signora
cara!” he bowed gracefully with all the charm he could muster, flashing an almost frightening smile at her.
Seems a little
unpretentious for a host, but at least he’s courteous…
“Ah…thank
you, Louie,” she said politely, but looked at her pilot. “I’ll bet he
has.”
“Let
me show you to the best table in the house, reserved for my finest guests,” the orang-utan guided the couple to a quiet booth
and handed them both a menu. “Our speciale
for tonight is the Agnolotti a la Louie,
stuffed with Parmesan, roasted red peppers, leeks and Portobello mushrooms in a
basil pesto cream sauce.”
“An
Agnes-whatsis?” questioned Baloo.
“It’s
oval-shaped ravioli, man.”
“Sounds
scrumptious,” said Rebecca.
“Uh,
give us a while, will ya?”
“Sure
thing. I’ll be at the bar if ya need me, cuz,” Louie ended with a
wink to him and walked away from the booth.
While
that was going on, a slick-looking, bushy eye-browed wolf in a fine tailored
suit with sideburns and a heavy-set bear wearing a fedora and overcoat, entered
the nightclub without much discern from anyone. They casually cased the
establishment with their eyes, hinting with a sense of shiftiness, looking for
anything out of the ordinary.
Suddenly
they were transfixed on the winsome businesswoman and her frippery.
“Well,”
said Rebecca, as she studied the menu, “maybe apologies are in order.”
“Uh,
okay…” the pilot said in confusion. “I’m sorry.”
“No,
silly!” she chortled. “I mean, I should apologize to you. This
place is fantastic!”
Ya
wouldn’t have said that if ya saw it last night, hon…
“It
sure is,” said Baloo with real feeling. Louie’s plan was working like a
charm and the boss lady seemed more than impressed. Feeling more relaxed than he did before, he stood up from the booth and
continued: “I’ll get us a coupla Pineapple Juice Fizzers.”
“Okay,”
she said as he walked off to the bar.
“Well,”
muttered the bear to his partner, whom both set themselves at a table across
from the booth, observing the unsuspecting she-bear. “Ya think she’ll be
easy?”
“Are
you kidding? Look at the guy she’s with,” responded the wolf confidentially.
“He sure ain’t no Glark Cable! Must be real desperate.”
“Probably
drained the last guy she went out with. Pipe the hardware she’s got.”
“Yeah
– and her jewellery don’t look bad, either.”
“Well,
you know the script…go to it, Smoothie.”
“Certainly,”
the wolf said, rising up and making his way to the booth.
Baloo,
meanwhile, made his way up to the bar where Louie was busy with the drink
containers. The pilot was still awestruck by the metamorphosis of his favourite
stopover, yet a little disheartened by it, too. It made the place look…well, respectable.
“What’ll
it be, Fuzzy?” asked the orangutan, wiping the inside of a glass with a
dishcloth.
“Two
Pineapple Juice Fizzers, Lou. Shaken, not stirred.”
“You
got it, man. So…whaddya think of my ‘ristorante’?”
“I
gotta hand it to ya, buddy…you definitely got ol’ Beckers believin’ that
this is some first-class joint. Ya even had me fooled!”
“Just
a clean glass alone would have fooled you, Baloo.”
As
Louie mixed the drinks, he took another look at the she-bear and thought: Man!
Leave it to Baloo to land himself with such a
bodacious boss! An’ did they ever make such a fine-lookin’ couple when
they walked in…
Rebecca discreetly finished adjusting one of her silk hoses from underneath her gown and dropped the hem length back down. She then casually propped her chin into the palms of her hands, looked around the booth and gently sighed with contentment.
This is really something else…she
thought wistfully. I wonder why this place
was never mentioned in the latest edition of the
“Excuse
me, madam,” spoke a well-mannered voice. It belonged to the wolf, smiling
brilliantly. “But I could not help noticing you...”
Rebecca
was slightly surprised, if not finding the stranger somewhat attractive.
“Who?
Me?”
Oh dear! I hope he
didn’t see anything while I was fixing my garter…
“Yes,
you,” he answered in a seductive tone and gently holding her hand, but
greedily eyeing her diamond ring. “You are beautiful – the most
beautiful creature I have ever seen. Take a walk with me under the moonlight,
no?”
Rebecca’s
heart skipped a beat. Oh, my!
“Well,
if you – ”
Then
she remembered. “Oh, wait. I’m with Baloo.”
Losing
her, thought the
wolf. Better pour the honey to catch the queen bee…
Meanwhile,
at the bar…
“So,”
Louie said casually, “your date enjoying
herself?”
“Uh…heh-heh,”
Baloo laughed nervously. “This ain’t no date, Louie.”
“Ya
sure, cuz?” he queried, noticing the wolf patron making his moves on Rebecca
in the distance with curiosity and some concern, while Baloo remained oblivious
to the scene behind him. “I mean, she is dressed to impress…”
“Nah,
ya got it all wrong, man. Becky’s just my boss. Ya know women…they all
like ta get all fancied up, even if it’s just to the corner store fer some
milk. Yer startin’ ta sound like Kit.”
Louie
looked dumbfounded. As much as he loved his best friend like blood, even he had
to admit that at times Baloo wasn’t too sharp about certain things, which was
why he lost his cargo freight business and the ownership rights to the Sea
Duck not too long ago.
Or when he has a
good-lookin’ babe within his reach an’ don’t even know it,
he thought…
Sliding
next to her in the booth and still holding her hand, the wolf looked deep into
Rebecca’s eyes. “The fat bear? Madam,” he gently
persuaded. “I do not mean to offend,
but he could not possibly belong to
one so lovely…so captivating…so adorable...”
She
rapidly melted under his spell.
Oh,
my…
“Well,”
she said, looked at him coyly from under her lashes and blushing, “He…he
really doesn’t belong to me…he’s…just my pilot…”
Baloo
and me?? Please!
“Then,
please…honour me with your company, bella.”
“Okay,
then,” she whispered, completely forgetting about Baloo.
The
two stood up from the booth and headed towards the exit with his hand placed
gently behind her shoulder blades. A warm feeling radiated from his touch,
making Rebecca feel very desirable.
“Such
a heavenly fragrance you have on, my
dear,” he complimented as they walked out the door. “Do I detect Orient
Empress?”
“Of
course,” she smiled.
His
partner watched all of this from their table, chuckling quietly to himself. Hook,
line and sucker…
The
huge ursine got up casually to follow after a second or two for his partner to
get a head start, when he was immediately confronted by one of the knowing
“customers” that got in his way. They had seen what was going on the whole
time and suspected something was up.
“Hey,
fella, what are you up to?” he stated. “You and your buddy leave the lady alone.”
“I
don’t think that’s any of your business,
Mac,” growled the bear.
“Well,
I’m making it my business…Mac,”
he retorted, now standing up and getting right in his face.
The
bear clenched his teeth angrily. I don’t
need this right now…
By
the time Louie finished with the Fizzers, poured them into two glasses and added
the decorative cocktail umbrellas into them, the slick wolf had walked off with
the businesswoman. The nightclub owner had unsuccessfully tried to convince
Baloo to allow the band to play a couple of slow dance numbers for them, which
the pilot politely turned down.
“Here
ya go, Joe,” he said, placing the glasses onto a serving platter.
“Thanks,
Louie,” replied the grey bear, carting off with the drinks.
Ha! Me an’ Becky on
a date, he thought
in disbelief. That’ll be the day when
the moon falls outta the sky!
Then again…it has
been awhile since I’ve been out with anyone…
When
he got back to the booth, he noticed it was missing his employer.
“Rebecca
–?”
Mebbe she’s in the
ladies’ room, he
thought at first. Jeez, hope
Louie covered the graffiti in there before we arrived…
It
was just then the orang-utan walked up to him.
“Baloo,
Rebecca just went outside.”
“Oh?
What for?”
“Some
shady-looking Don Juan came in with that guy and swept her right outta here,”
he informed him, pointing to the menacing-looking bear, who was now in a full
confrontation with the patrons and was starting to look nastier by the minute.
“I think you better check on her!”
“Thanks,
Louie! I will!” he said, charging out the exit door. As he did so, he felt a
little upset and some other emotion he couldn’t tag at the moment. What’s
with Beckers goin’ off with ‘nother guy for? I thought she was with me!
Seeing
his friend take off, the proprietor now turned his attention to the burgeoning
fracas. A huge interest from the other patrons was gathering up on both sides of
the situation, threatening to explode.
“All
right, what’s going on here?” he demanded, as he walked over to the ruckus.
“Who are you, sir? You tryin’ to
cause trouble in my place?”
“Lemme
go!” shouted the bear.
“Why
don’t you mind your own business what the guy’s doin’ here?!” shouted
somebody angrily.
“Why
don’t you go crawl back in the sewer
where you belong?!” someone
retorted.
“Why
you sonofa –!”
A
crescent moon sailed among the celestial ballet of stars twinkling above
Louie’s island reflected in the lagoon, with a warm current wind lapping
gently, where the slowly-strolling couple walked along the boardwalk in the
atmosphere around them. The wolf had taken the she-bear gently by her waist and
lifted her onto the pier stand at the water’s edge.
“To
admire you more,” he told her. She just blushed.
And
he went on with his romantic praises over her; comparing her liquid brown eyes
to highly-polished tiger’s eye quartzes, her charmingly radiant face and
sensuously silken fur that he delicately traced with his finger up her arm that
sent tingles down her spine, making her shiver delightfully.
“…and
when your hair catches the moonlight,” the wolf continued, now working his
hand around her bare shoulder, “you become a silvery dream of
loveliness.”
Rebecca
giggled like a giddy schoolgirl.
“Really?...”
Suddenly,
he expertly unhooked her necklace closure in a whipping motion off her neck so
quickly, the shock washed over the businesswoman like an abrupt ice cold shower,
made her cry out and jump off the pier stand, stumbling onto the deck.
My necklace!!!
“And
your necklace is even lovelier than you!” he growled gleefully.
Baloo
heard the cry. He’d recognize that screech anywhere.
“Fool!”
jeered the mugger iniquitously to his victim, stuffing the necklace into his
pocket. “You’re alone with me now!
You can’t defend yourself!”
Those
words and the malicious look on his face somehow made the trauma in Rebecca
dissipate and had now turned into a burning rage, not only over her
naïveté, but the taunt of the swindler poking at her ego was
more than she could tolerate.
She
noticed the empty wooden water bucket beside her.
“Can’t
defend myself?” she yelled, shaking her fist at him. “We’ll see about that,
buster!”
The
pilot saw the trouble on the pier. Man,
oh, man, oh, man!!
“Rebecca!”
Baloo called out, running towards them. “Rebecca, I’ll save –!”
But
before he could complete his sentence, the she-bear swiftly grabbed the water
bucket and violently smashed it over the wolf’s head in a single arch, making
the thief see the entire solar system spin inside his brain.
Witnessing
this, the large bear was astonished at her strength and bravery.
“–
you???” he managed to say.
Whoa
– that gal’s got spunk!
“Take
that, you rotten liar!!” she shouted, her voice half-breaking
with hurt and bitterness.
Staggering
back a bit to the edge of the pier, his head swimming in a sea of pain and
splinters, the mugger was stunned but livid. Figuring that his partner was going
to be a no-show, he decided to take care of this fiery dame himself.
Gritting
his teeth, he shoved his hand into the inner pocket of his suit, pulled out a
switchblade that unsheathed its lethal edge with a click slicing the air and gleamed deadly in the moonlight.
“For
that,” he snarled viciously at her, “you pay!!”
Holy mackerel! Baloo
and Rebecca both thought in their separate minds.
The
horror returned to her and registered it in an eardrum-piercing shriek.
Baloo
now ran faster than ever, a mix of adrenaline and some protective vehemence
overcoming him, charged at the would-be assailant with a primal growl.
Rebecca
noticed the racing grey blur before her eyes. Baloo!!
He
head-butted the unsuspecting mugger into his side with a resounding whump
that knocked the wind out of his lungs, sending him and his knife flying through
the air at a great distance, splashing into the lagoon.
The
businesswoman let out a laboured sigh of relief, clutching her hand to her
chest, her heart still pounding. That’s it… she thought pointedly, no
more falling for silver-tongued, sophisticated-looking gentlemen from now on!
“Now
git outta here!” Baloo bellowed at the now-thrashing thief, who was
gasping and trying to stay afloat. “And take your ugly friend with you!”
If anybody’s gonna
cut up the Boss Lady, it better be with words – by me!
As
the wolf swam away for shore, Baloo turned to his employer.
“Becky!
Are ya –?”
“Oh,
Baloo!” the petite she-bear exclaimed, running into his bulk in an embrace.
“I should never have come here! It’s a rough place and I had no right
to manoeuvre you into taking me!”
He
was surprised.
“Manoeuvre
me?”
Uh-oh, thought Rebecca with her mouth agape, realising what her tongue had just
slipped out. Better come clean on this one, girl…
Noticing
that she was so…intimately close to her pilot, she backed off a step.
“I’ve
just been feeling lonely – I wanted to get out for an evening, that’s
all…and I don’t know many people besides you…”
The
perplexed look on Baloo’s face changed to a somewhat amused expression.
“I
didn’t think you’d take me anywhere,” Rebecca concluded with a small
voice, feeling like a little child caught in a big lie, “just as a
friend...”
But
he understood. After all, they’d only known each other for just a short while
and it was starting to meld out into a relationship that seemed quite stormy
over work ethics and certain issues, but at least it was amicable to a certain
degree.
Whaddya
know…the businesswoman ain’t all business after all.
“Well,
I’ll be…you just wanted to have a little fun!”
“Uh,
yeah…I’m…sorry...”
Boy, am I dumb. I
can’t be this desperate for
company…
The
pilot just smiled warmly. “Look, Boss…I guess we don’t have too much in
common, but fun is universal! How
‘bout we try this again?”
A
world of assuagement came upon her with hearing those words.
“Eh…”
replied Rebecca sheepishly, “but without the jewellery.”
“Deal!”
‘Sides,
he thought, it’d be such a waste to be all nicely decked out in that
strapless number fer nothin’... I wonder if Beckers likes ta dance?…
Walking
back, the she-bear hadn’t known how Baloo would have taken her confession,
knowing that she had used him under false pretences. But she was so glad that he
was magnanimous in nature, even with all the hard-boiled attitude and crazy
get-rich quick schemes he had to put up with from her since the beginning. He
truly was a friend and, as much she didn’t want to admit, a gentleman.
He
may be a lazy slob, Rebecca
thought, but he is a really nice guy. Then she added, looking at him, I
wonder if Baloo likes to dance?…
“Sorry
that ya got robbed of yer necklace back there, Becky.”
“That’s
okay,” she said, removing her ring and dropping it in her purse. “I just
learned very recently that there are some things not worth losing your life
for.”
“Amen
ta that, lady.”
Re-entering
the nightclub, a full-fledged brawl had broken out amongst the customers,
including Louie; in a flurry of fisticuffs, wielded clubs at the ready and
projectiles coming from every direction. Rebecca looked at the scene with
surprise, then turned to her pilot.
“Is
this always like this,” she asked with a sense of sarcastic bemusement,
“or should we just take a rain check?”
“Oooo,
uh…” began Baloo embarrassingly. “Rebecca, I think we’ll have to start
from the beginning…”
A
bottle flew by, which they both ducked on cue, smashed against the wall behind
them.
“Uh…welcome
to Louie’s!”