"Okay, Tananda," I sez. "We'll try it that way."
"Are you okay, Guido?" she sez, peerin' at me concerned-like. "You sound a little flat."
"I'm all right. I'll tell youse though, Tananda, this assignment is gettin' me down a little."
"Well cheer up, things may have been rocky so far, but working together, we should be able to make some progress. Tell you what, find Nunzio and fill him in what we're doing. Then we'll meet back here and give it a try ... say, tomorrow night?"
"Sure, why not?"
"In the meantime," she sez, openin' her disguise mirror again and startin' to fiddle with the knobs, "come on downstairs and I'll buy you a drink or two."
For a minute that sounds like a good idea. Then I remember Frumple.
"I think we'd better cool it, Tananda. We gotta be careful about how much we're seen together here."
"What do you mean?"
"The reason we're hangin' out here is we found out that the proprietor's a Deveel. The trouble is, he seems to know the Boss and has some kind of grudge against him. So far, he doesn't know we're connected with the Boss, but if he gets suspicious ..."
"A Deveel?"
"Yeah. Says his name is Frumple."
"Frumple? So he's back in operation again, is he?"
"You know him?"
"Sure. He teamed up with Isstvan against us back when I first met Skeeve ... and you're right, if he gets suspicious, a disguise spell wouldn't keep him from figuring out who I am."
"Maybe we should wait and try to run our gambit somewhere other than here," I sez, tryin' to keep the hope out of my voice.
"No need," Tananda grins. "As long as he doesn't make the connection between us beforehand, we should still be able to pull it off tomorrow night. In fact, it'll be killing two birds with one stone, in a manner of speaking. I don't mind doing Frumple a bit of dirt in the course of action, but it ' looks like his place will be at ground zero when the fireworks start. By the time he puts it together, we'll be long gone."
"Swell," I sez, with more enthusiasm than I am feelin'. "Then we're all set. Youse go ahead and leave first. I'll stay up here awhile and give youse a head start."
As soon as she is gone, I settle myself to try to sort out my misgivin's about how things are goin' on this assignment. It doesn't take long to figure out that I am sufferin' under a burden of conflictin' loyalties.
Youse may find this surprisin' from someone in my line of work, but loyalty and betrayin' trust counts very high up in my books ... which is one of the things I have always admired about the M.Y.T.H. Inc. crew as they all seem to value the same thing.
In the past, I've managed to balance my loyalties between the Boss and the Mob, as the strange approach the Boss takes to things has not directly threatened any of the Mob's interests. This current situational, however, is turnin' out to be a horse of a different caliber.
In plannin' to stir up trouble between the civilians and the army, I am violatin' the trust placed in me as a representative of the army ... but I have managed to rationalize this as it is my reason for joinin' the army in the first place, so in this matter I am actin' kinda like a spy with my loyalty clearly with the Boss.
Nunzio has convinced me that I am not violatin' my deal with Frumple by usin' his place as a site for our mischief, as it falls outside the agreement we made. This strikes me as a little shaky, but I can be flexible when the occasion calls for it.
This latest plan, though, of settin' up someone in your squad to be the fall guy is real hard to see as any thin' except betrayin' a friend. Still, Tananda is right ... it is the best way to be sure that things go the way we want 'em to.
Thinkin' it over real hard, I finally come up with an answer: What I gotta do is think of it as a joke on a buddy. Okay, maybe it's a dubious joke ... like poppin' a paper bag behind someone who's gettin' ready to blow a safe ... but as long as the notable in question does not end up permanently damaged or incarcerated as a result, it can be passed off as a joke.
Now, my only concern is tryin' to make sure that whoever we pick has a sense of humor ... a real good sense of humor!
Chapter Eleven:
"That's why the lady is a tramp!"
-B. MIDLER
"HOOOO-EY! THE PLACE is sure jumpin' tonight!" Shu Flie exclaims, leanin' back in his chair to survey the room.
"You kin say that again, Shu," his brother sez. "Hey! Lookit that one over there!"
Any way youse look at it, the Flie brothers run a class act ... though politeness will forbid my commentin' on which class. For a change, however, I am inclined to agree with them.
This is our first weekend in Twixt, much less here at Abdul's, and the bar is packed to overflowin'. In fact, if we hadn't been drinkin' here since early afternoon, it's doubtful we would have a table at all. As it is, we are entrenched at our regular table with a good view of the bar ... or, to be more specific the de-rears arrayed along the bar ... as well as the de-fronts when they turn around. Believe me, speakin' as a well-traveled demon, youse don't get scenery like this just anywhere!
Unfortunately, my enjoyment of the view is marred by my distraction over the comin' events.
"Whatdaya think Swatter?" Shu sez, turnin' his attention to me. "You ever see women like this before?"
"Oh, they're not bad!" I sez, cranin' my neck to scan the crowd.
It has occurred to me that Tananda will probably be in disguise when she arrives, and it will therefore be difficult for me to recognize her unless she gives me some kind of signal.
"Not bad? Listen to this, guys! All this beautiful woman-flesh, and all Swatter can say is They're not bad'!"
"Really, Swatter," Junebug sez. "You just don't see beautiful women like this in the army!"
This earns him a dangerous scowl from Spyder, but he misses it completely as he is feelin' his drinks more than a little at this point.
"Nice crowd for a fight. Know what I mean, cuz?" Nunzio murmurs in my ear low enough so no one else can hear.
"I dunno," I sez, scannin' the crowd again. "I don't see a single one of these white collar types that even Bee couldn't take without half tryin'."
"That's what I mean," Nunzio grins, and helps himself to another swallow from his drink.
As you can maybe tell from his behavior, the hesitations I have been experiencin' about settin' up one of our buddies has not bothered my cousin in the least. If anything, he seems to be lookin' forward to a bit of trouble.
"Watch my chair," I sez, standing up. "I'm goin' to the bar for a refill."
Like I said, the place is mobbed, and in typical tightfisted Deveel type fashion, Frumple has not incurred the added overhead of puttin' on extra help, so if youse wants to get a drink sometime before the next Ice Age, it is necessitated that youse belly up to the bar to get your refill directly from the bartender. If youse is wonderin' why someone as greedy as Frumple is willin' to miss the extra income generated by a higher turnover of drinks, let me restore your faith by explainin' that he makes it up both by waterin' the hootch and by increasin' his unit revenue ... which is to say he raises his prices as the crowds get bigger.
Strangely enough, neither the weaker drinks nor the sky-high prices seem to faze this crowd in the least. I figure this is because they feel that payin' three times the normal goin' fare for a drink will screen out the rabble one usually has to tolerate when drinkin' in a public place, thereby insurin' that they are makin' their passes at folks of an equal or higher income bracket, and as to the watered drinks ... well, the only reason I can come up with that they aren't complainin' about this is that they probably figure that booze is unhealthy, so a weak drink is somehow healthier than a strong one.