“You’re going nowhere,” Avery said as he slid into his black high-tops. “A manservant never abandons his master.”
“Hey, man. I’m, like, your wingman. Not a slave. Like, no wonder you don’t have more friends.”
“I don’t require friends.” Avery strapped on his fanny pack. “In my experience, friendship tends to clutter an otherwise perfectly good relationship between two people. Keep people at arm’s length at all times. It keeps them away from your wallet.”
“Like, fine then.” Ziggy sat down cross-legged on the dirty hotel room’s carpet and inhaled loudly.
“What are you doing?”
“Holding my breath.”
“Why?”
“So you’ll, like, change your mind,” Ziggy replied.
“Why would that change my mind?”
“Like, if they find me dead they’ll, like, blame you,” Ziggy said as he suddenly exhaled and then took another deep breath.
“You’re not doing a very good job with this plan of yours,” Avery said as he watched Ziggy’s face slowly turn scarlet. “I suggest you avoid pearl diving.” After a few moments, Ziggy began to shake. “Knock it off, Ziggy!” Avery barked. Ziggy continued to hold his breath. In addition to trembling, he emitted a high-pitched whining sound. “Enough!” Avery yelled as he began pacing back and forth. “You’re the last person on the planet who can afford to lose any more brain cells!” Ziggy’s face was beginning to turn purple. “Okay, fine!” Avery exploded. “We’ll stop at the damn voodoo shop on the way.” Ziggy collapsed sideways onto the floor and proceeded to cough uncontrollably.
“Like, you mean it?” Ziggy asked after a few moments.
“Yes, but only for a minute.”
“Far out, man. This is, like, going to be awesome.”
“Only for a minute,” Avery repeated as he headed for the door.
“Right on, man.” Ziggy launched himself up and followed Avery into the musty hallway. “You know, for minute there, I think I, like, crossed into the afterlife.”
“Really?” Avery asked sarcastically. “Did you find God?”
“I, like, didn’t know he was missing,” Ziggy replied with a puzzled look on his face. “Seriously, though, man, it was, like, the afterlife and everything.”
“Amazing,” Avery replied with a yawn.
“Totally, dude.”
“What did it look like?” Avery asked as he lumbered down the hotel’s staircase.
“Like the world’s largest music store, man. Except everything was, like, eight tracks only, dude.”
“Did you see an eight-track player?”
“Like, no, man.”
“You know why?”
“Why?” Ziggy asked.
“Because they don’t make them anymore.”
“So?”
“All the music in the world, but in an unusable format. Congratulations, Ziggy. You’ve just seen a glimpse of your afterlife, and it’s in hell.”
“Bummer, man,” Ziggy said dejectedly as they reached the bottom of the staircase and entered the hotel lobby. Momma Dee sat behind the reception desk, working on a crossword puzzle.
“Innkeeper,” Avery said, announcing his presence. “Where would someone find food in this less than gentrified neighborhood?”
“Ain’t much round here unless you head back towards the Quarter,” Momma Dee said without looking up from her puzzle. “After the hurricane, most places in these parts never opened back up. What’s a three-letter word for a large antelope?”
“Like, why did you stay and everything?” asked Ziggy.
“Because I’m, like, spearheading the gentrification and everything,” Momma Dee said with a sneer. “There’s a small market two blocks down,” she said as she pointed vaguely in the direction of the street out front. “You can get a bite to eat there.” She turned her attention back to her crossword. “Ain’t nothing fancy.”
“Fine,” Avery said. “In addition, we require use of your telephone.”
“In the office.” Momma Dee pointed behind her. “No long distance or nine hundred numbers, or I’ll throw your pasty butts out. Antelope, three letters?”
“A gnu. Ziggy,” Avery commanded. “Contact that babbling cab driver. Tell him we’re in need of transportation immediately. I’m off in search of sustenance. I shall return shortly.”
“Like, okay.” Ziggy searched his pockets for Pappy’s phone number. “Hey, man, I could, like, really go for some granola and soy milk,” he said as he looked up, only to see that Avery had already left. “Drag, man,” he mumbled as he went in back to use the phone.
A few minutes later, Avery spotted the small convenience store. It was the only business open on the block. The rest were locked or boarded up. A bell on the front door jangled as Avery pushed his way inside. An old black man behind the counter seemed to ignore his entrance. Avery snatched two bottles of Mountain Dew from the beverage cooler before noticing a hot dog warmer near the counter. He approached it. Three shriveled hotdogs turned slowly on the cylindrical heating rods. They looked as weathered as the old man behind the counter.
“How long have these suspicious meat tubes been sitting out?” Avery asked.
“A while,” the man replied.
“Today?”
“No, sir. Can’t get the flavor in one day.”
“What flavor?”
“The right flavor. It takes time, you know?”
“Not really,” Avery replied as he took a cardboard container and placed three stale buns in it. Avery searched for some tongs to pick up the crinkly sausages from the slowly spinning warming rack. “Utensils?” he asked hopefully.
“Ran out. Just use your hands. Don’t bother me none.”
“Hands?”
“Good Lord gave you two.”
“You sure?”
“Boy, just grab them wieners,” the perturbed man said. “They don’t bite. Once them hogs go in the grinder, they lose their hostility right quick.”
“Gross,” Avery groaned as he fished out the hot dogs and placed them in the buns. “Mustard packets?”
“Ran out. Snatch that mustard off the shelf over there and dress them up how you like.”
“Fantastic,” Avery said sarcastically as he pulled a plastic container of mustard off a shelf containing a variety of condiments and hot sauces. He broke the seal and gave each hot dog a healthy squirt. “What do you want me to do with this?” Avery held the mustard container toward the old man.
“Put it back on the shelf. It’s still good.”
Avery paid for his meal and wandered back down the deserted street toward the Sonesta Royale. Waiting in front of the hotel, Ziggy and Pappy leaned on the hood of Pappy’s cab. Pappy was waving his arms emphatically as he lectured the wide-eyed Ziggy about the difference between New Orleans and African voodoo. Avery approached the cab and handed one of the grisly-looking hotdogs to Ziggy.
“You, like, got to hear this Avery,” Ziggy said excitedly. “Pappy’s got this, like, trippy place for us to check out. I’m, like, totally stoked, man.”
“Yes, indeed.” Pappy wiped his bald dome with a handkerchief. “Mae Mae’s Voodoo Lounge is the real deal. Only place in town to get a shrunken head and a shot of whiskey at the same time.”
“Great,” said Avery as he crammed an entire hot dog in his mouth, spackling a good portion of his unruly beard with mustard in the process.
“Like, how long to get us there?” Ziggy suspiciously eyed the shriveled hot dog in his hands.
“Say about ten minutes,” Pappy replied. “I know all the shortcuts.”
“Well,” Avery began as he swallowed down his breakfast, “get moving. We have an important scientific conference to attend at midday. I will not be late. You hear me, Ziggy?”
“Cool,” Ziggy said as he nibbled at the end of his hot dog before spitting the offending bite onto the sidewalk. “Like, that ain’t right, man.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not natural. Like, how can you eat that? It’s, like, inedible, man.”