Snapshots: Shakespeare or Fakespeare?

The greatest English playwright ever known,

His stories will forever be performed.

But when a light on his own tale is shone

We find that we are not too well informed.

He never spelled his name the same way twice,

And seems to have not ever been abroad;

His education just would not suffice,

So some say he's the greatest ever fraud.

Perhaps Sir Francis Bacon was the scribe?

Still others nominate Edward de Vere.

Kit Marlowe had the talent, some subscribe,

Or did the Queen herself compose King Lear?

Poor Yorick's Pub is where the answers hide--

Read on and let these snapshots be your guide!

Horsing Around

gavin cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub and waved to his friend, publican danny blake.

"danny boy, you're looking at a hungry man! i hope you've got something for me."

danny nodded as he poured a beer. "as a matter of fact, i made the hungry man's special today: dr. pepper ribs."

"sounds intriguing. better give me a double portion so i can have a more informed opinion on whether i like 'em."

"you got it, hoss," danny handed him the beer. "i'll bring 'em over in a minute."

gavin walked back to join his friends at the back of the pub. there was sierra, gnawing on her last rib, a messy plateful of meatless bones in front of her; marian, pecking at her laptop; Mysterious Lurker and her apprentice ava reinier discussing the finer points of lurking; tucker trying out a new finger-picking technique while humming softly; linda nulo reading "the 16 personality types: descriptions for self-discovery"; and taylor perusing the help wanted ads. "well, here's a somber group!"

"hey cardigan!" sierra greeted him. "and for the record, i do not gnaw."

"there are tooth grooves in your bones," cardigan pointed out.

"taylor probably picked them up and added those when i was done with them," sierra huffed. "and for the record, i do not huff, either."

"i prefer flesh to bones," taylor said, without looking up. "and i'm looking for a job, not eating."

"really?" cardigan was intrigued. "what kind of jobs are fake vampires qualified for?"

"for the record, i'm an alternative vampire, not a fake one. as for jobs, that's what i'm trying to figure out." he circled an ad and turned to marian and asked, "ducky, think i could be a personal trainer?"

"no."

"how about a fireman?"

"no."

"how about a--"

"no."

"you didn't let me finish!"

"i'm trying to concentrate. i'm writing a children's book!"

"really? what's it about?" danny asked as he delivered a pile of fragrant ribs to cardigan.

"it's about a sea horse named dudley who wants to race in the kentucky derby," marian explained.

"how does he manage that?" sierra inquired as she sneaked a rib off of cardigan's plate, earning a glare from the private investigator.

"he makes a deal with a horse who wants to fly, and a horse fly who wants to swim. so, dudley gives his gills to the horse fly, who gives his wings to the horse, who gives his legs to the sea horse," marian beamed, obviously quite pleased with her cleverness.

"the wings of a horse fly can't possibly handle the weight of a fully grown horse," linda noted.

"and a racehorse's legs are about, oh, ten thousand times larger than a sea horse's body," taylor remarked, earning a scrunched-up face from marian that implied i'll deal with your lack of support later. "um...unless...um...it's a giant sea horse, which it probably is, right?" he added, hopefully.

"no, he's not a giant sea horse," marian grumbled. "this is a children's book. the story doesn't have to make sense; it just has to be fun!"

cardigan sucked some sticky dr. pepper sauce from his fingers. "okay, i'll buy that. but is dudley a good name for a racehorse? i don't think i'd bet on a horse named dudley. it sounds like a--"

"dud," ava finished.

"but it's a kid-friendly name," marian argued. "you can't use names like secretariat or man o' war in a children's book."

"actually, man o' war would be a good name since a portuguese man of war is also a sea creature," the Lurker mused.

"that's confusing," sierra shook her head. "a sea horse-turned-racehorse named after a jellyfish that's called a man. that makes my head hurt."

"so does dudley win the race?"

"you'll have to buy a copy of the book and find out for yourself!" marian replied, smugly (one might say).

"you mean you're not going to give us a copy? hmph." sierra said sulkily (one might say).

"you can afford to buy a children's book. you're a celebrity!" marian remonstrated (honestly, she remonstrated right there in front of everybody. it was rather a sight to behold). "the bestseller list is based on sales, not giveaways."

"who's going to draw the book?" cardigan asked quickly, trying to get past all the remonstrating.

"how about my friend Ward?" ava suggested.

cardigan pointed at marian's boyfriend. "how about taylor? he's looking for a job."

"do sea horses have fangs?" taylor looked interested.

"no," marian shuddered. "what about you, linda? can you draw?"

"hmmm, let's see. if i score ISFP on the MBTI, then i will be considered artistic," linda stated hopefully. "but," she consulted another book. "if i'm an aries, then i'm not likely to have the patience to be an artist. on the other hand," she pulled out another book, "if i was born in the chinese year of the sheep, i'm probably very artistic."

"wait a minute," cardigan interrupted. "isn't aries represented by a ram or a sheep? shouldn't aries and year of the sheep equal the same thing?"

"ram did mar," ava declared.

"i don't think we can really figure people out based on the moon and stars," sierra philosophised. "what do you think, shakespeare?"

the balding dramatist had arrived to collect plates of bones. "'is it not strange that sheep's guts could hail souls out of men's bodies?"

"i bet i could draw that!" taylor grinned.

"no!"

Which Came First: The Letter Or The Word?

gavin cardigan walked into the Pub and hung up his hat.

"hey, gavin. where'd you get the hat?" danny blake asked from behind the bar as he poured a beer.

"it's the one the Lurker made for me in an unpublished chapter a couple of years ago."

"oh, yeah. i forgot all about that chapter. so, how about some chipotle pork enchiladas?"

"mmm, rolled or stacked?"

"stacked," danny replied as he handed him a beer.

"throw a fried egg on top and i'm sold," cardigan winked and walked back to join his friends.

"have a seat gavin," sierra kicked a chair out for him. "marian is going to read us the latest letter she got for her column."

"ahem," marian elfman, author of the syndicated advice column Don't Be So Melodramatic! began.

"ducky," taylor whispered to her. "you don't actually say the word ahem. you're just supposed to clear your throat."

"throat-clearing noises are gross," marian declared. "i prefer the word ahem."

"i agree with marian," sierra said approvingly. "ahem is much more elegant."

"we should do that with other words," Mysterious Lurker suggested. "such as saying belch instead of making belching noises."

"and saying delicious instead of making smacking noises of approval," danny added as he delivered cardigan's enchiladas. "i'm always afraid of spittle when they do that."

"ooh, that's a good one!" said sierra. "people should just say spit instead of actually spitting."

"you realize that we're fictional and we never actually make those sounds anyway, right? all we do is describe them, so we're already doing what you're suggesting," gavin noted, making smacking noises of approval as he ate his enchiladas.

marian glared at him. "don't say stuff like that, gavin! now, ahem:

Dear Marian,
My fiance wants me to sign a pre-nuptial agreement. I wouldn't mind this so much except for one thing: I make more money than he does, I have greater opportunity for career advancement than he does, and my family is wealthier than his. Why should I sign a pre-nup when he has no wealth to protect?! If anything, I should have him sign a pre-nup to protect my wealth! He said it's a way for him to save face with his family. I say he's an idiot. What do you say?
Signed,
How Can I Be A Gold Digger When I Own A Platinum Mine?

"idiot," everyone present said at once.

marian nodded. "i agree. that was an easy one! also," she added, "he shouldn't be so melodramatic!"

tucker laughed. "hahaha, i love your column! it's a rich source of material."

he strummed his guitar and began singing:

dear marian, dear marian
my life is a mess
how i screwed up my laundry
is anyone's guess
my buttons are missing
my underwear shrunk
my shirts are all wrinkled
and smell like a skunk
signed, disheveled

disheveled, disheveled
you have no complaints
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

marian made indignant faces as the others laughed and called for more.

dear marian, dear marian
my husband's a jerk
he takes all these pills
'cause he's allergic to work
he asks pretty co-eds
to come baby-sit
that wouldn't be so bad
if we only had kids
signed, good-hearted

good-hearted, good-hearted
you have no complaint
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up, good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

marian hmph'd as everyone sang the last line together and called for more.

dear marian, dear marian
i need your advice
i teach high school english
my students have lice
they're rude and belligerent
and smell like stale beer
they disrupt my class
and make fun of shakespeare
signed, frustrated

frustrated, frustrated
you have no complaint
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

shakespeare walked over to collect the dirty dishes and joined marian in an indignant hmph and muttered, "as flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport."

**note: apologies to the great john prine for butchering his song Dear Abby.

The Eyes Of Horace

gavin cardigan stepped into Poor Yorick's Pub, shutting the door quickly against the blustery wind. "what's for supper tonight, danny boy?"

"fried oysters," replied danny blake as he poured a Bass Ale for cardigan. "with a chipotle-lime dipping sauce. care for some?"

"i'd care for more than some. make it a double order, my friend."

danny nodded. "you got it, hoss."

cardigan nodded at the witches in the corner as he joined his friends at the back.

"gavin's here!" marian elfman proclaimed. "now you can tell us about your date, sierra."

cardigan grinned as he took his seat. "another winner, charles?"

sierra charles, the Pub's resident D-list celebrity, shuddered. "why does it have to be this hard?"

"aw, cheer up, sierra," taylor young told her as he wiped up the beer he had just spilled. "ducky here got lucky. you will, too."

marian rolled her eyes at her vampire boyfriend. "don't jinx her like that, taylor. now," she turned to sierra, "tell us what happened!"

sierra sighed. "my agent belongs to the Guild of Entertainers' Representatives, the GERbils, they call themselves."

this was greeted with an appropriate amount of snickering.

"anyway, one of the GERbils decided that he was tired of his clients winding up in the tabloids because of one failed relationship after another, so he started up a matchmaking service for GERbil clients, run by the GERbils. my agent set me up with a another agent's client, and i foolishly agreed. stop laughing!"

she glared at her friends, who weren't being very supportive at the moment. Myterious Lurker was wiping tears from her face as she tried to control her laughter. "i'm sorry, but the fact that you were set up by matchmaking GERbils...how can you expect us not to laugh?"

sierra grabbed an oyster from cardigan's plate as danny set it down. "i think i need another beer, danny."

cardigan glared and moved his plate away from sierra. "bring her some of her own oysters while you're at it."

"so up with whom did they set you, miss sierra?" shakespeare asked as he cleaned off a nearby table.

"horace humboldt," she shuddered again as she said the name.

"i've never heard of him," cardigan noted as he swallowed his first bite. "what kind of a celebrity is he?"

"he owns Horace's House of Horrors, right?" danny put in as he brought sierra another beer. "that theme restaurant that's supposed to be a haunted house."

"a restaurant owner? and he has a GERbil?"

"he's also an actor. a stuntman, really," sierra explained. "he played an orc in the Lord of the Rings, a zombie in Shawn of the Dead, an alien in District 9, something in Hellboy. all i knew at the time was that he was an actor and a restaurant owner. my agent knew i liked good food, so he thought this was a good match."

"oh, dear," marian tried not to giggle as sierra named off the movie roles. "where did you go?"

"his restaurant, which is the worst food i've ever had."

danny nodded. "i've heard that."

"the entire experience was awful. there were bad actors with worse accents walking jumping out at people to scare them, talking animal heads on the wall, a 'band' of robots who sang stupid songs. there were screeching teenage girls and crying children. and horace," she shuddered again.

"what about him?" taylor asked. "has he ever played a vampire?"

"i don't know, but he's definitely creepy. he sat against the wall under a portrait of a nobleman whose eyes moved around, but horace's eyes never move and they never blink. ever. it's as if he were dead and nobody bothered to close his eyes. i couldn't decide which was worse: the portrait with the moving eyes, or the real person with the dead eyes."

"well, you could have looked at the food instead," cardigan noted.

"more eyes! the ice cubes in the drinks looked like eyeballs! he ordered pizza that had olives on top of pepperoni slices so it looked like eyeballs! nachos with oval pepper slices that looked like eyes! deviled eggs that looked like eyes! eyeballs everywhere!"

taylor fell off his chair laughing. cardigan was choking on an oyster from laughing. marian and the Lurker had tears streaming down their faces and were no longer trying to suppress their giggles. danny was chuckling as he wiped beer glasses. the witches were cackling. sierra was hmph'ing.

shakespeare cleared the table and said to her, “teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made for kissing, lady, not for such contempt.”

"zip it, shakespeare."

"hmph."

You Say You Want A Resolution

"happy new year, danny boy!" gavin called out as he entered the Pub.

"back atcha, big guy!" danny blake replied as he poured a beer. "since it's new year's day, i'm serving black-eyed pea and chorizo soup with cornbread. sound good?"

"sounds great!" gavin took a sip from his pint then walked over to join his friends.

"happy new year, cardigan!" sierra charles greeted him.

"happy new year, everyone."

"so, how was your mystery date?" marian elfman asked gLeefully, referring to gavin's having volunteered to be auctioned off for a date at sierra's charity auction.

cardigan glared at sierra, then turned to glare at the witches across the Pub, who giggled and waved.

"i'm never doing that again. i had to pay for four meals!"

Mysterious Lurker guffawed. so help me, she guffawed. "guffaw! the witches bid on you?"

cardigan shuddered and took a large gulp of his beer. "they won. seems they have their own ideas of whom i should date and didn't want to take a chance that i'd meet somebody else."

marian hahaha'd. "hahaha! where did you eat?"

"verona."

"really? how's stoney?" danny asked about verona's 3-nostriled chef stoney karr as he delivered cardigan's soup.

"he's good. he says hello to everyone, especially you, charles," he grinned at sierra, happy to deflect attention away from himself.

"i'm glad he's doing well," sierra stated as she pinched off a corner of cardigan's cornbread.

"this soup is terrific, danny," cardigan told him as he moved the cornbread out of sierra's reach.

"burkie claims that eating black-eyed peas on new year's day brings good luck," foxy said as she walked up.

cardigan grinned, ignoring a woo-hoo from one of the witches. "looks like it's working! happy new year, foxy!"

"i didn't know you would be here today," sierra told her sister.

"that was my idea," burkie stated as he walked in, accompanied by special assistant hepzibah. "others are on their way."

"what's the occasion?" marian asked their handsome creator excitedly as juliet, judge st. bishop, boom-boom shakalaka, and benjamin franklin filed in.

"it's new year's day," burkie explained. "i wanted to see all of you again, and hear your resolutions for 2011."

"yay!" marian clapped. "i resolve to learn how to quilt!"

"really?" taylor looked at her. "why?"

"i think it'd be nice to make a nice burnt orange & white quilt for burkie! wait...why did i say that? that's not what i meant to say!" marian made an outrageous face of, er, outrage.

"why thank you, marian. that's very sweet of you," burkie smiled. "how about you, sierra?"

"i resolve to go on more blind dates," she replied immediately, then gasped. "i didn't say that! dammit, burkie, i didn't say that!"

"i resolve to make asian dumplings," danny stated.

burkie nodded his approval. "how about you, linda?"

"me?" the Pub's least developed character was surprised but eager. "i resolve to acquire a mysterious past, break my leg in a comical incident, break up with Tucker because of a dramatic misunderstanding, then make up with him again when we accidentally bump into each other in cuba, and take trapeze lessons, and learn chinese, and beat martina hingis in tennis, and--"

"i suggest you break your leg after beating martina in tennis," tucker, er, suggested. "as for me, i resolve to write a song about benjamin franklin."

"why, thank you, minstrel! that's uncommonly kind of you," the founding father beamed. "as for myself, i resolve to follow-up my invention of a time machine by inventing a vessel for keeping hot drinks hot and cold drinks cold."

"you invented a time machine?" the judge looked at him suspiciously.

"hem...haw..." mr. franklin hemmed and hawed.

burkie shot mr. franklin a warning look and asked the judge, "what is your resolution, your honor?"

"i resolve to impose longer jail sentences for plagiarists."

"um...yeah, right," burkie moved on quickly. "foxy?"

"i resolve to get our book on american culture published," foxy told him.

"excellent! juliet?"

"i resolve to launch a new shoe company that specializes in high-heeled shoes for men's feet," the crossdresser replied. "my feet are killing me!"

"i resolve to work out more," boom-boom stated, pulling her SFPD sweatshirt up enough to expose her abs. "i need more definition."

"how about you, hep?" burkie asked his special assistant. "hep? HEP?"

s.a. hepzibah blinked, then forced herself to turn away from boom-boom and answer, "i...i resolve to...to...learn to play piano. and don't call me hep!!!"

"i resolve to work on my accent," taylor noted in a not-quite-clipped british accent.

"how about you, linda?" burkie asked.

"you already asked me!" she exclaimed. "and i already answered!"

"oh, yeah. sorry, i forgot," burkie turned to shakespeare, who walked forward to collect the empty plates and glasses. "shakespeare?"

"the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," sayethed the bard as he cleared the table.

"er, right. cardigan?"

"i resolve to drink more," cardigan, er, resolved, signaling danny for another pint.

The Wizard of Schnauze

"greetings, all!" gavin cardigan bellowed out as he entered the Pub.

"why are you bellowing?" danny blake asked from behind the bar as he poured a Guinness for his best customer.

cardigan shrugged. "i don't know. burkie's probably trying out new verbs."

danny handed him his pint. "well, fortunately for us, burkie has me cooking a hearty beef stew with sourdough bread today, so don't be too hard on him."

"i can't promise anything." cardigan took his stout over to join the others, breaking into a grin. "hi, foxy!"

foxy charles gave him a warm smile. "hi, gavin. you're looking well."

he nodded. "i'm feeling pretty well, too. what brings you here tonight?"

she glanced over at her sister sierra, who scowled. "i'm here to introduce sierra's date."

"another one?" he winked at sierra. "you get around, charles!"

"i have nothing to do with it! it's burkie's stupid contest. his sister gets to run my life now, it seems."

marian elfman gave her a disapproving look. "don't be so melodramatic! you might actually like this one."

"wanna bet?"

"no. you'd try even harder to not like him then."

taylor young looked up. "my enhanced hearing tells me the front door just opened. maybe that's him!"

marian rolled her eyes. "i heard it, too, taylor. your hearing isn't enhanced."

they all looked expectantly toward the front, only to deflate as burkie and special assistant hepzibah walked in.

Mysteriously Lurker suddenly appeared and hmph'd. "we thought you were sierra's date."

s.a. hepzibah shook her head. "no, but he should be here soon."

sierra asked, "did you bring your autograph book? is this one famous, too?"

foxy shook her head. "no...well, not like jacob. this one is more of, uh, an F-list celebrity," she added, looking away from her sister, who was a well-established D-list celebrity.

"how do you know him anyway?"

"through burkie's sister," foxy explained. "i've never met him, but she wrote and told me about him, suggesting he'd make a good match for sierra, so i contacted him and he agreed to come meet her."

"you've never met him?" sierra looked alarmed. "he might be amish, or a leprechaun, or have a tail!"

"an amish leprechaun with a tail," gavin mused. "burkie, can i enter the next contest?"

"door," taylor nodded toward the front again.

they held their breath, listening to the footsteps. when judge st. bishop entered the room accompanied by benjamin franklin, there was more than a little disappointment--along with relief on the part of sierra--in the collective exhale.

"what are you two doing here?"

the Pub's resident founding father beamed. "we've just come from the cinema where we saw Avatar. what an extraordinary experience!"

danny looked at the judge in suprise as he dropped off cardigan's food. "you took him to the movies, your honor? i thought you didn't like exposing him to modern technology."

"that ship is so far from shore that it it would get lost if it tried to turn around," answered the judge with a shrug as he and sierra helped themselves to cardigan's sourdough bread. "life's too short to get too worked up over things i can't control."

cardigan pointed, er, pointedly at his empty bread basket. "danny, a refill here? and might as well bring some stew for the judge and mr. franklin."

"vampire's lives aren't short," taylor noted with pride.

"we're fictional," cardigan reminded them. "we're not alive in the first place. except for mr. franklin, of course, and he's dead."

"i am not dead, dammit!"

"door," taylor informed them.

they turned again and saw the back of a man who approached danny at the bar.

"hey, it smells great in here! beef stew, right?" the man said jovially. "with potatoes, carrots, some red wine, a couple of bay leaves, and some dried thyme? and sourdough bread, unless i'm very much mistaken."

danny looked uncharacteristically flustered. "um, yeah. yeah, you're right. exactly right, as matter of...of fact."

the man nodded. "i'm never wrong! it smells great. may i have an order, please?"

"sure, yeah. uh, sure. no problem. i, uh, will bring it over shortly."

the man turned from danny and walked toward them wearing a friendly smile. "i hope this is the right place. i'm looking for foxy charles? my name is stoney karr."

foxy's bright smile began to fade as the newcomer approached them. he had a medium build, jet black hair, and piercing greens set on a ruggedly handsome face. ruggedly handsome, that is, except for the fact that his nose had three nostrils.

"oh, uh, i'm foxy," she replied, then hurriedly indicated her sister. "this is sierra, stoney."

he extended a hand. "hi, sierra. i've heard a lot about you. it's a pleasure to meet you in the flesh. i'm a big fan of your work in zz top videos."

sierra gripped his hand briefly. "oh, uh, thank you, stoney. uh....i understand that you're celebrity yourself?"

he took the seat next to her. "not really. i was a contestant on Who Wants To Be The Next Food Network Star. i didn't win, though."

"oh, well, show business can be like that. it's not always about talent, you knows--you know, i mean." sierra looked to caridgan for help.

cardigan looked just as uncomfortable. "so, uh, stoney. you're a chef? what is your specialty?"

"i was blessed with an extraordinary sense of taste and smell," stoney explained, not at all uncomfortable. "my gimmick on the show was bachelor meals, or cooking for one."

"that, uh, sounds like a good niche," danny noted as he delivered more food to the table. "cooking for one isn't easy."

stoney shrugged as he reached for some bread. "that was my thought, but i guess i must have come off as pathetic. i mean, who wants to see some poor shmuck cook for himself night after night?"

"oh, i'm sure nosebody would think that," sierra interjected, then cringed. "nobody, i mean. nobody would think that."

"so, do you work as a chef here in san francisco, stoney?" the Lurker asked him.

he nodded, waiting until he swallowed a mouthful of stew before answering. "yes, i've been the head chef over at Verona for about a year."

"Verona?" cardigan looked over at sierra. "that's how we met, charles. remember? your ex-client/boyfriend was the chef there when he was murdered!"

"james livermore?" stoney looked at sierra. "you dated livermore? wow, small world, huh?"

"did you knows---know him?"

stoney shook his head. "no, i never met him. i know him by reputation. everybody loved that guy." his looked at sierra sympathetically. "i'm sorry for your loss."

"oh, we weren't really dating," sierra replied. "we were just getting to knows each other--i mean, know each other, when that happened."

stoney reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "i knows you're uncomfortable, sierra. it's okay." his smile was reassuring and friendly. "i've been trying to live up to james livermore at work for the past year. i really don't want to have to do that in my private life, too. just friends?" he extended his hand.

sierra smiled in relief and shook his hand. "friends it is."

stoney stood. "it's been a pleasure to meet you all. foxy, thanks for everything."

"you're welcome, stoney. it was nice meeting you, too."

cardigan nodded. "don't be a stranger, okay? we'll save a seat for you."

after he walked out, sierra noted, "you know, he really is a nice guy."

marian agreed. "and he cooks! unlike some boyfriends i could name." she turned toward taylor as she said this, scrunching up her face in annoyance.

taylor shrugged. "i don't have to cook. we eat here."

"maybe you should give him a chance, charles," cardigan suggested.

"he had three nostrils! i couldn't stop looking at them! i couldn't stop talking about them!"

"i knows," the others said in unison.

as the great english dramatist came to bus the table, sierra turned to him and asked, "what do you think, shakespeare?"

"that which we call a nose by any other name would smell as sweet."

judge st. bishop groaned. "how long have you had that one in your pocket, waiting to bring it out at just the right moment?"

shakespeare grinned at the judge and exchanged a high five with burkie.


Author's Note: my sister kelly created the character (except for a couple of embelishments on my part)--and the name--of stoney karr. any resemblence between stoney karr and anybody else, whether they be named stoney or karr or anything near that, is coincidental. or, it's kelly's fault. :)

The Fur Will Fly

gavin cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub, hung up his jacket, and inhaled deeply and with appreciation. "smells great, danny. what're we having for dinner?"

"korean bbq-style burgers," danny black replied as he poured gavin a beer. "i'll make you two."

"to start with," cardigan amended as he took his beer over to his accustomed table with his accustomed friends.

"hey, i don't think i like being defined as accustomed," sierra charles complained as gavin took his seat.

"i didn't call you that," gavin noted sourly. "burkie did."

"hmph," sierra sulked.

"now, now," burkie admonished her as he walked into the Pub. "no sulking! not when you're about to meet your date." he indicated the striking young man entering the Pub behind him.

sierra's eyes went round--

"burkie!"

"that's not what i meant!"

sierra's eyes went wide even as she glared at burkie at the same time.

the young man smiled warmly and extended a hand. "hi! my name is jacob. jacob black."

"oh, this is going to be good," taylor young grinned knowingly, baring his fangs.

sierra glanced nervously at taylor, then unabashedly looked the newcomer's 6'7" frame up and down, shook her hair flirtaciously, then took his hand with an approving smile. "hello. oh! your skin is warm."

she continued to hold his hand, now with both hands, until he finally said, "don't worry, i don't have a fever. i've always had higher-than-normal body temperature."

"no, it feels good," sierra cooed, continuing to rub his hand.

marian snickered. "she cooed."

sierra suddenly dropped his hand, embarrassed. "i'm sorry. please, uh, have a seat."

"thank you," he said, taking the seat next to her.

as danny placed a plate in front of cardigan, sierra grabbed one of the burgers and gave it to jacob. "here, these are fabulous!"

cardigan glared at her and moved his plate to the opposite side. "danny, better bring some more."

"burkie," marian turned toward their handsome creator, "where did jacob come from?"

"my friend mira suggested him for the contest."

"you mean your friend ava?"

"wow! you remembered me!" burkie's friend ava reinier appeared suddenly.

taylor looked around, bewildered. "where did you come from? you weren't here before?"

"i taught her that," Mysterious Lurker informed him, appearing suddenly at burkie's friend ava's side.

cardigan looked back and forth between the Lurker and burkie's friend ava, chewing his korean bbq-style burger thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers. "burkie's friend ava is your apprentice?"

the Lurker nodded. "yep. she shows a lot of talent for lurking."

danny dropped off more burgers and asked burkie's friend ava, "are you really lurking in a blog written by a dog?"

burkie's friend ava nodded. "yes. it's called oh my effing dog!"

"of course it is," danny muttered, returning back to his sanctuary behind the bar.

"it's my friend mira, not my friend ava, who suggested jacob," burkie explained. "she won the contest for the mug. well, actually, she co-won."

"co-won?" sierra tore her eyes regretfully away from her dark-haired date, starting to look nervous. "what does that mean? i have to go on more dates? why? what's wrong with this one? i like this one!"

jacob smiled. "that's nice of you to say, sierra."

taylor looked out the window. "it's getting dark outside. must be twilight."

marian scrunched up her face in annoyance. "of course, it's twilight out there, taylor. look what time it is!" she shook her head and looked toward their guest. "you'll have to forgive taylor, jacob. he--" she stopped suddenly. "jacob...jacob?" she looked over at taylor, who nodded, and she suddenly clapped her hands. "oh! oh!"

Mysterious Lurker smiled knowingly. "it is getting dark out there, isn't it. i hear there's a new moon."

sierra looked around, clearly in the dark. "what's going on? burkie, why can't i go out with jacob again? he's nice, seems normal, and..." she tilted her head toward her date. "have you seen him? woof!"

taylor, marian, and the Lurking started laughing out loud, exchanging high-fives.

special assistant hepzibah ran into the Pub at that moment, waving an autograph book. "i'm not too late, am i?"

"too late? too late for what?" sierra asked.

hepzibah looked inside her small purse for a pen, swore, then checked her large purse, swore again, and rummaged through her tote bag. "here it is!" she fished out an SFPD pen and handed it and the book to jacob. "can i have your autograph? i'm a huge fan."

"sure." jacob smiled and took the book.

"autograph?" sierra stared at jacob. "who are you? i'm sorry, but i'm a bit of a celebrity myself and i've never heard of you."

"you've never read the twilight series?" hepzibah looked surprised.

"twilight? oh, no. my agent got me an audition to play the mother of the girl--becca, or whatever her name is."

"bella," replied a chorus of voices around the room.

"whatever. he's my ex-agent now. i can't play somebody old enough to have a daughter in high school." she turned back to jacob. "so, are you a vampire?" she glanced over at taylor. "a real one, that is?"

"um, no. not exactly," jacob replied, looking uncomfortable for the first time since he arrived.

"he's a werewolf," marian told her with a grin.

"a real one," taylor added.

"werewolf?" she looked at burkie.

"ah, yes."

"werewolf?!" she looked at jacob.

"woof."

she shuddered. "and when you turn into a wolf, what do you eat?"

"um, you know. wolf stuff."

"you mean like Purina Wolf Chow? or you mean like dead rabbits and squirrels and things like that?"

jacob gave her his most charming smile. "well, it's hard to eat them when they're alive, you know. they kick going down."

"ewwwww. and your breath must be awful. thanks, but no thanks."

jacob sighed, then stood. "it's always the breath. i wish somebody would invent a breath mint strong enough for werewolves."

as jacob walked out, burkie's friend ava remarked, "wolf did flow."

taylor said, "aw, sierra. you would've been a great couple. he's a wolf, you're a cougar. you would've had the cutest cubs!"

"i am not a cougar!"

shakespeare came over to bus the table. "you made the right choice, fair sierra. he's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath."

she turned her un-kind eyes toward their handsome creator. "burkie, the next one better be human. got it?"

"oh, he's human all right," hepzibah giggled.

"why is she giggling?!" sierra looked indignant. "burkie? burkie!"

(Speaking) of Michelangelo...

"howdy, everybody!" gavin cardigan hollered out as he entered the Pub.

"howdy, gavin," danny blake replied, pouring him a Bass Ale. "i've got some tex-mex cheese enchiladas with chili gravy. interested?"

"you have to ask? i thought you were smarter than that," cardigan took a swallow, then walked over to join his friends.

sierra charles pointed her fork at the plate of half-eaten enchiladas in front of her. "these are amazing."

marian elfman, the notorious cheese ho', nodded in agreement as she chewed with a smile on her face. cardigan wondered briefly how she was able to do that.

linda nulo looked up from her notebook. "burkie's from texas. he knows what good enchiladas are." she looked over at taylor young, her jaw tightening. "you're going down, vampire!"

taylor bared his fangs in her general direction. "i do my talking on the field, where i'm 2-0. what's your record again? oh, yeah. 1-1."

just then, an exuberant young man--well, no longer young, really...definitely on the back side of 30--with bright red hair came bouncing into the Pub. "h.t.s.e.b.d. everybody!"

marian made a face that looked kinda like this o.O as he approached the table. "i guess i'm early," he noted, looking around as if he expected to see more people.

"early for what?" Mysterious Lurker asked, her steely eyes glinting dangerously. "and who are you? and what does...whatever you said...mean?"

"why, Happy T.S. Eliot's BirthDay, of course!" he looked around, his smile refusing to give in to the disinterest dominating the room. "aren't you guys celebrating? i'm sean IX, by the way."

"sean icks?"

"not icks. those are roman numerals. i'm sean the ninth," he explained, as if that made perfect sense.

"the ninth what?"

"the ninth wonder of the modern world," he quipped, with a wink. "but you can call me sean."

"i prefer icks," cardigan muttered under his breath.

"why would you think we'd be celebrating t.s. eliot's birthday?" sierra asked.

"why, he's the coolest poet of all time," sean IX answered in a tone of conviction that this could not be disputed.

"i don't know about that," danny stated flatly as he delivered a plate of enchiladas to gavin.

"enchiladas?" sean IX shook his head. "that's not appropriate for eliot. he was american before he was british, but he wasn't a texan. how 'bout some bangers 'n mash?"

"no."

"eliot wasn't anywhere near as cool as poe," the Lurker noted, her raven hair falling across half her face. "poe died of mysterious causes. how did eliot die?"

"emphysema," sean IX expained, "but--"

"or sylvia plath!" marian noted gleefully. "she stuck her head in an oven!"

"i like coleridge," added taylor. "especially cristabel. did eliot ever write about vampires?"

"no, but--"

"hondo crouch wrote poems about luckenbach," linda pointed out. "you can't get cooler than that. plus, his name was hondo. and crouch."

"well, yes, but--"

"i like burkie's poetry," sierra broke in. "he won an award, you know. wait..." she shook her head violently. "i don't know why i said that."

cardigan rolled his eyes. "gee, i can't imagine why you'd say that."

"but eliot won the--"

"i like cliff lynn. he's a modern poet," cardigan continued, ignoring the indefatigable eliot fanatic. "he's won an award, too."

a neat, balding man with a little beard came forward to collect their plates. "dr. seuss is the coolest poet of any age," he declared, um, declaratively.

"except for yourself, shakespeare," cardigan slapped him on the back. "you da man!"

"and this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and coolness in everything," shakespeare replied, bringing the debate to an end.

Lazy Day

"howdy, everyone!" gavin cardigan called out as he entered the Pub.

"howdy, gavin," danny blake greeted him from behind the bar as her poured an ale. "fancy some shrimp & grits tonight, along with some of burkie's french bread?"

cardigan drew in a deep breath of contentment. "life doesn't get better than this."

danny grinned as he handed cardigan his pint. "that's why we're fictional."

"i'll drink to that."

cardigan walked over to join his friends at their regular table. "happy labor day, everybody!"

"what's the purpose of labor day, anyway?" marian elfman asked. "i mean, we celebrate the fact that we have a job by not going to work?"

"i thought it was to celebrate all the great people who were born in september and to give thanks to their mothers who went into labor to deliver them," sierra charles stated, then shook herself. "wait, i don't know why i said that. i wasn't born in september...oh, burkie must've made me say it."

"we're fictional. we weren't born at all," cardigan pointed out.

"i'm undead, so i was actually unborn," taylor young noted, baring his fangs.

"i'm neither dead, nor fictional, so i was very definitely born," benjamin franklin interjected. "in january, as a matter of fact."

"we should have more holidays," danny declared as he delivered cardigan's shrimp & grits and a loaf of bread. "we should have at least one holiday every month, but there aren't any in march, april, june, or august."

sierra stuck her fork into one of cardigan's shrimp and brought it to her mouth. "i agree. maybe we should have a National Shrimp Day."

cardigan glared at her and moved his plate in the opposite direction. "i thought you were a bacon ho'."

"there should be a National Bacon Day, too."

"we already have food holidays like thanksgiving and christmas," taylor said. "we should have a Day of the Dead like they do in mexico. or even better, a Day of the Undead."

"um, i don't think thanksgiving and christmas are supposed to be food holidays," Mysterious Lurker spoke up suddenly. "but i like the idea of a Day of the Dead." she showed off the skull tattoo that suddenly appeared on her left arm.

"we already have Presidents Day and Martin Luther King Jr. day and Memorial Day, so we already celebrate dead people," sierra observed.

"we should celebrate folk singers," tucker put in, strumming a chord.

woody showed us that this land
was made for you and me
dylan taught us it's all right
to question who we be
van zandt flew both low and high
pete seeger overcame
that we don't celebrate their
contributions is a shame

"the arts are certainly underrepresented," the Lurker acknowledged. "but so is the animal kingdom. we should have a National Pet Appreciation Day. right, monte?" she turned toward the cardigan welsh corgi lying on his pillow by the fireplace, who winked at her.

at that moment, judge st. bishop stormed into the Pub. "we should have a day that honors our Constitution," he declared as he approached the table. "it is the foundation of our country's greatness. hey danny, can i get some of this? it smells great."

"super bowl sunday," linda nulo stated with finality. "it probably draws more people together than any other day of the year. which reminds me, the nfl season kicks off this thursday, so get your fantasy rosters ready."

"none of our holidays honor a woman," marian scowled. "we should have a holiday for susan b. anthony or sojourner truth."

"what do you think, gavin?" sierra asked. "you haven't made any suggestions."

"i think we should ask ourselves what we're really after here," cardigan mused. "do we just want to celebrate four deserving causes, or do we want four more paid holidays?"

"four more paid holidays," they all said in unison.

"then let's go the easy route and just legitimize something already observed in those months. for march, i think we can all agree on March 14th. it's not only albert einstein's birthday but also pi day as well as pie day."

"here, here!" the judge raised his pint in agreement.

"for april," cardigan continued, "i'd suggest April 23rd, shakespeare's birthday."

the great elizabethan dramatist blushed as he bussed their table. "you do me great honor, friend cardigan."

"to shakespeare!" marian raised her glass. "now, how about june?"

"easy," cardigan grinned. "June 15th is National Fly A Kite Day in honor of mr. franklin's famous experiment."

the Pub's token founding father rose from his seat and bowed. "glad to be of service!"

"to mr. franklin!" the Lurker leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"and august 16th can be National Rock 'n Roller Coaster Day."

"huh?"

"well, august 16th is both Roller Coaster Day and the anniversary of elvis' death--"

"alleged death," broke in tucker.

"isn't it odd that elvis hasn't shown up in the Pub?" sierra mused. "he seems like a natural for burkie to weave into the story."

"is this foreshadowing?"

"i don't know. after all, we already have a musician here," cardigan indicated tucker.

"how do you know i'm not elvis?" tucker replied, curling his lip.

"oh, no...."

A Question of Character

"howdy," gavin cardigan greeted danny blake as he entered the Pub.

blake poured him a beer and placed it in front of him. "we're serving gazpacho steak salad tonight. interested?"

"when have i ever turned down one of your meals?" cardigan sipped his beer, then walked over to join the regulars and, he noticed, the irregulars as well, including burkie's special assistant. "hey, guys. what's going on?"

"burkie set up this game to let you guys develop your characters more fully," special assistant hepzibah explained. "each of you will reach into that box on the table, pull out a slip of paper, and answer the question on it."

"it's about time!" linda nulo reached into the box, eager to develop her character fully. she read the question aloud: "if you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be? and why?" she crumpled the paper angrily in her hand. "wtf kind of question is that?!"

"it's designed to give us insight into your psychological make-up," dr. foxy charles explained. "it's really quite clever."

"i'd be the whomping willow from harry potter, so i could whomp burkie upside the head," linda retorted. "your turn, foxy, since you find burkie so clever."

foxy smiled and reached in, then read: "who was the first person you ever had a crush on?" she took a quick swallow of beer to hide her rapidly blushing face. "hmmm, i can't remember. your turn, sierra."

s.a. hepzibah sighed. "you have to answer, foxy. if you don't, burkie will just type it."

"isn't he typing it already?"

"don't confuse matters. it hurts my head to think about that."

foxy muttered, "roger rabbit."

"roger rabbit?" sierra laughed. "he's animated! and...well, a rabbit!"

foxy shrugged. "he makes me laugh."

"okay, i'll give him that," her sister conceded and reached in for her question: "'if you were one of snow white's 7 dwarfs, which one would you be?' hmmm, probably Hungry."

"i think Hungry was a smurf, not a dwarf," marian elfman stated.

"there was no Hungry Smurf," declared judge st. bishop, the Pub's foremost authority on all things smurfy.

"there was no Hungry dwarf, either," foxy said. "honestly, if you took my and burkie's course, you'd know this."

"choose Dopey," taylor young suggested. "he's the one without a beard."

"definitely Dopey," sierra stated with finality. "your turn, taylor."

taylor reached in and pulled out the following: "if you were a professional wrestler, what would your name be?" he grinned. "Forever Young!" he bared his fangs menacingly, referring to the immortality that burkie has yet to bestow upon him.

marian rolled her eyes. "that's corny!" she reached into the box for her own question: "if you were a natural disaster, which one would you be?" she made a face of bewilderment. "i have no idea....oh, i know--the bermuda triangle!" she beamed, obviously pleased with herself.

"is that a disaster or a phenomenon?"

"according to the most interesting man in the world, it's actually a parellelogram rather than a triangle," danny informed them as he delivered caridgan's salad. "guess i'd better take one, too." he reached in and pulled out: "if you were to host a dinner party and could invite two historical figures, who would you invite?" danny pointed left and right. "easy. ben franklin and william shakespeare."

marian made yet another face and stomped her foot. "that's not fair! they're always invited!"

"and it's always my pleasure to be here, my dear!" mr. franklin smiled at her, then reached in for a question: "which modern day convenience could you not live without?" he drummed his fingers on the table. "hmmm, i would have to say this iPod device. i've got every song tom jones ever recorded on this little baby!"

the judge looked alarmed. "i think you should choose something from your own time period, sir. perhaps one of your own inventions?"

"and i think you should answer your own question, magistrate," retorted the founding father, placing his iPod back in his pocket.

the judge bristled but reached in for a question: "if you had a band, what would you name it?" he thought for a second. "Langtry," he decided.

"nice," tucker approved, then reached for a question: if you had a theme song that played whenever you walked into a room, which song would it be? tucker grinned, strummed his guitar, and started to sing:

night after night,
who treats you right?
baby, it's the guitar man...

"at least you got a good question, honey," linda noted.

"my turn," Mysterious Lurker announced with a toss of her leisure suit-blue hair, reaching in for a question. "what would everyone in the room be shocked to learn about you?" a tattoo of a sheriff's star appeared on her arm. "that i wanted to be a cop when i grew up."

sgt. boom-boom shakalaka snorted. "you on the force? more like the farce." she reached in for a question: what is your idea of a great first date? "gee, i don't know. with my hours, i don't date much. i guess it would be going out for thai food, then the shooting range, then chilling out with a bottle of wine and a horror movie."

"that sounds...interesting," marian noted. "your turn, hepzibah. hepzibah?"

burkie's special assistant looked as if she were in a trance, then realized everyone was staring at her. "oh, sorry! i was, uh, wondering where burkie is."

"you're his special assistant. shouldn't you know?"

"oh, right. yes, he couldn't be here tonight because he's busy writing." she reached in and pulled out: what's your favorite movie? "oh, i don't know. interview with the vampire, i guess."

"good flick," taylor approved. "ava, your turn."

burkie's friend ava smiled and reached in for her question: where would you most like to visit? "adaven, nevada," she replied.

"i've never heard of it," the black darter noted, then reached in for his question: if you had to lose one of your five senses, which would you lose? "oh, man, that's an impossible question for a super hero to answer."

"then it should be easy for you," the Lurker pointed out.

dat glared at her, then answered, "touch. since i use a blow gun, i don't need to get close enough to touch the bad guys."

sierra looked over at gavin. "cardigan, you haven't gone yet!"

cardigan grunted, then reached in: what rule have you always disagreed with, and why? "i before e except after c," he replied. "it's just weird." he turned to shakespeare as the playwright came over to collect the dirty dishes. "you're last, shakespeare."

the great dramatist reached in and pulled out: what is your favorite number? "One that lies three thirds and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard and thrice beaten," he answered, then carried the dishes away.

the others looked at each other. "so what was his answer?"

"i think it's 'three.' he used three different versions of three: three, thirds, and thrice."

"or he might have just been making an observation about burkie," noted cardigan.

Pucker Up

"hello, everyobdy!" gavin cardigan hollered out in greeting as he entered the Pub with a vivacious red head on his arm.

"hey, cardi--whoah." danny blake spilled the beer he was pouring. "hello, there. and you are...?"

"belinda starre, but friends call me belle." she smiled and held out her hand.

"and gavin is a 'friend?'" blake asked, taking her hand.

"well, he's just a lover at the moment, but he shows potential," belle winked and kissed cardigan on the cheek.

"uh, what're you serving tonight, danny?" cardigan interrupted.

"spring pea risotto with garlic scape butter," blake replied, pouring out two beers.

"not exactly beer food, but it'll be great," cardigan assured her.

"i'm sure of it," belle nodded approvingly.

they walked over to join the other regulars. "everyone, this is belinda starre, but you can call her belle."

the regulars were less successful than danny in staring in disbelief at this stunningly beautiful woman with cardigan.

"it's, um, great to meet you all," belle stammered. "gavin has told me so much about you."

"oh, really?" sierra charles moved an extra stool to the table to accommodate the newcomer. "he's never mentioned you to us. when did this happen?"

"oh, just a moment ago. you know how burkie is. he just makes this shit up as he types," gavin shrugged, then grinned as he grabbed belle's hand. "not that i'm complaining. praise be to burkie!" he actually lifted his glass and took a drink to honor their handsome creator.

"a loooong moment ago," belle grinned knowingly. "long enough to let me know that i got a lucky with this guy." she punched cardigan lightly on the shoulder. "of course, he got lucky, too, didn't you, tiger?"

marian elfman's eyebrows lifted high. "gavin!"

cardigan cleared his throat, embarrassed. "so, how 'bout those 'niners?"

"hey, that's my line!" taylor young admonished him. "remember the last chapter? say something original."

"oh, right. uh, unseasonably warm, isn't it?"

"it's july," Mysterious Lurker pointed out.

"well, yeah, but this is san francisco!" cardigan countered, then sighed gratefully when danny arrived with the risotto.

"mmm, smells terrific! thanks for bring me here, gavin," she leaned over and kissed him passionately, brazenly, possessively--

"we get the picture, burkie. stop it with the descriptive adverbs," danny glared toward the corner, imagining their handsome creator over there.

just then, their goateed busboy walked up to take the still full, steaming plates away.

"wait, shakespeare! we haven't eaten yet!" cardigan protested.

shakespeare patted him sympathetically on the shoulder and looked over at belle, who sighed and muttered, "we are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep."

"not so unseasonable after all," the Lurker noted as belle faded away and shakespeare walked away with the food.

"a midsummer night's dream," cardigan shook his head. "i should've seen it coming. trust burkie to stoop to a low-brow stunt like a dream sequence."

"tell me about it," taylor murmered as he passed a twenty over to a gloating sierra.

Fandemonium

"howdy, everybody!" gavin cardigan called out as he entered the Pub.

"hello, gavin," danny blake replied from behind the bar, pouring his best friend and best customer a beer. "we're serving bulgogi today."

"i love bulgogi. give me more than you think i can eat," gavin grinned as he grabbed his beer and walked over to join his friends.

"why do you get billed as danny's best customer?" sierra charles asked as he settled into his seat. "we're always here before you show up."

"because i've been coming here longer than the rest of you," gavin theorized. "plus, i probably pay. burkie at least gives me occasional employment, unlike most of the people here he writes about."

"so, how do you think the 'niners will do this year?" asked the apparently unemployed vampire wannabe taylor young, quickly changing the subject.

cardigan grimaced. "that's the only thing i don't like about burkie's setting us in san francisco. i don't like the '49ers. i'm going to root for da bears."

"i'm a raiders fan," Mysterious Lurker noted, her black hair sticking up in multiple spikes in typical oakland raider fashion.

"i like the dolphins," michigan alumna marian elfman exclaimed. "they have chad henne & jake long!"

"i support the 'niners," blake stated as he delivered cardigan's bulgogi. "i have to be loyal to joe montana since he owns a diner."

"charles, didn't you go out with the cardinal's quarterback once?" cardigan asked sierra as he picked up some bulgogi in his chopsticks.

"we only went to an awards show together," the D-list celebrity explained. "i'm a jets fan. they selected me for their cheerleading squad."

"really?" marian looked at her in suprise. "i didn't know you were an NFL cheerleader."

"i had to quit before i ever performed in a game. my schedule got too busy after that ZZ Top video."

"how about you, tucker?" taylor turned to the shaggy haired guitar player.

"i'm not really into football, but linda makes me root for the cowboys," he motioned toward his girlfriend linda nulo, who nodded determinedly. "texan women take their football seriously." with that, he strummed a chord and began to sing:

my first wife kicked me off her team
for a west coast offense man
my second wife divorced me
for a dallas cowboy fan
my third wife couldn't tolerate
my 3-4 defense views
i got them jersey-wearing, referee-swearing
football woman blues...

tucker was interrupted by judge st. bishop's stormy entrance. "hey, do i smell bulgogi?"

sierra nodded, sneaking some off of cardigan's plate. "it's good, too."

"which NFL team do you support, your honor?" marian asked.

"the vikings," replied the judge, signaling to danny that he wanted some bulgogi. "one of their former players, alan page, is a friend of mine."

"we should play fantasy football this season," linda nulo suggested, uncharacteristically fleshing out her character development. "i'll be the commissioner."

"that's a good idea!" marian exlaimed, but then made a face and stomped her foot. "i should have thought of that!"

"what are the stakes?" asked cardigan, intrigued by the idea.

"i don't care, as long as they aren't wooden stakes," taylor stated, pulling a piece of beef off of one of his fangs.

"how about steaks?" danny remarked as he brought a plate to the judge.

"hmmm....how about if the winner gets to create a new character for the Pub?" the Lurker proposed.

"hey, i like that!" cardigan exchanged a high-five with the Lurker. "i could create a girl friend."

"we can figure that out later," linda said. "what do you think, shakespeare?" she asked the playwright as he came over to collect dirty dishes.

"strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends," he quoted himself.

there was a clicking of glasses all around the table at this.

"hear, hear!"

Party Trap

"hello, everyone!" gavin cardigan called out as he entered the Pub.

"hey, gavin!" danny blake shouted from behind the bar above the noise as he poured a beer.

"what's going on?" cardigan flung an arm toward all the people.

"a party for burkie's little brother. it was his birthday the other day."

"oh, the one who stands in holes?"

"i don't think he really stands in holes," blake replied as he handed cardigan his pint. "i think he rescues cats from trees. anyway, help yourself to some pizza. monte made it."

"monte? the pub dog?"

"yeah. whod've thunk, huh?"

cardigan grabbed a slice and turned toward the crowd, almost bumping into burkie. "oh, hello."

"hey, cardigan! good to see you," burkie greeted his protagonist and indicated the woman at his side. "i'd like to introduce you to my friend ava. ava reinier, this is gavin cardigan. he's a private eye."

"wow!" ava grinned and shook his hand.

"cardigan, i need to mingle. can you show ava around and introduce her to people?"

"sure, this way." caridan led her over to his regular crowd. "everyone, this is burkie's friend ava. ava, this is sierra charles, marian elfman, taylor young, and Mysterious Lurker."

"aloha, hola!" ava smiled at them.

marian looked around, shrugged, and replied, "i, marian, i too fall; a foot-in-air am i!"

the Lurker pointed at the corner, where monte lay curled on a rug. "and that's monte."

"a dog! a panic in a pagoda!" ava said, knowingly.

"yep," cardigan drained his beer faster than usual. "here, let's go meet tucker." he led her over to the shaggy-haired guitar player. "tucker, this is burkie's friend, ava."

"hi, ava!"

"hi, tucker. nice to meet you! do you know the song, "rats live on no evil star" by ookla the mok?"

"no, i'm sorry," tucker shook his head. "how about 'UFO tofu' by bela fleck?"

ava nodded eagerly, and the woman sitting near tucker took the time to introduce herself. "welcome to the Pub! i'm linda nulo, tucker's girlfriend. beyond that, nobody is quite certain what my character does. heck, i don't even know what kind of car i drive."

"a toyota," ava stated with certainty.

"really? thanks!"

at that moment, a determined man strode in. "burkie, i don't like this talk of cars when everyone here is drinking. you need to set a good example to your half dozen or so readers! damn, that smells good!" he snagged two slices of pizza and a napkin.

"don't worry, judge st. bishop," burkie assured the high-strung magistrate. "that's why hepzibah is here, to be the designated driver."

the judge nodded, chewing with satisfaction. "so, why the party?"

"it's for burkie's brother," linda informed him.

"the one who rescues coal miners?"

"i thought he was a lineman for the county," tucker looked puzzled. "is that him over there?"

"oh, no. that's one of danny's friends, otis," cardigan explained, waving otis over to make introductions.

"nice to meet y'all," said otis. "my feet are killing me, though. i need to find a place to sit."

"sit on a potato pan, otis," ava suggested.

"good idea, ava. thanks!"

"good evening, friend cardigan!" a colonial-looking figure walked up, patting cardigan on the back with one hand and holding a slice of pizza in the other. "who is this ravishing creature?"

"hello, mr. franklin. this is burkie's friend, ava."

"it is a pleasure, miss. have you tried some of this pizza with salami on it? it's the bomb!"

ava shook her head. "go hang a salami. i'm a lasagna hog!"

mr. franklin nodded. "i like a mean lasagna, too. so, what's the occasion?"

"we're celebrating burkie's brother's birthday."

"oh, the one who digs moats for texas oilmen and cattlebarons? i'd like to meet him!"

"er, i'm not sure if he's even here," cardigan looked around. "hey, shakespeare! have you seen burkie's brother?"

"the elvis impersonator? no, i haven't," said the balding man with the neat goatee picking up dirty dishes.

"that's william shakespeare?" otis asked. "he looks rather drab to be the greatest playwright of all time."

"drab as a fool, as aloof as a bard," ava observed.