My Dinner With Rossaroni

I hadn't seen my friend Rossaroni since the sacking of Kristal Stadt over 15 years ago but he had contacted me via aether-plane wave and I decided to meet him for dinner at the old Delmonico's Restaurant on St. Charles Avenue.

I arrived early and took a seat at the bar and ordered a Tom Collins to relax since I had not seen Rossaroni in many years and didn't know what to expect. I rehearsed a few questions I wanted to ask since asking questions would also make me feel more comfortable but I knew I would have to have several prepared - I'm not good at coming up with questions on the fly.

Time passed and Rossaroni arrived. We were seated a table near a pillar across from the bar. I could hear the noise from the adjacent casino which was not unpleasant but reminded me of the bawk-bawk-bagaaaaaaaaaaawk a yardbird might make.

"What brought you back Rossaroni? Weren't you living in a Lokarian ashram?"

"I came back to discuss matters of fantasy and reality, chaos and non-chaos"

"I'm afraid I don't understand. My life is firmly grounded in reality - stability is what I find"

"No and yes, sadly, that is what I was afraid of. Things rarely go haywire now - remember when I conditioned Turnips to believe he was a chicken and all he could say was cock-a-doodle doo and fight with the tenacity of a beserker?"

"Yes, but we cannot continue to do these sorts of things, I have bills to pay - I used to think about adventures, riding about in mighty seagoing vessels or aboard flying carpets but now I must think about money"

"Perhaps but this habit - and it is a habit you are now operating by is not living"

"Are you suggesting that all I am looking for is comfort?"

"Woody, comfort can lull you into a false sense of security, tranquility can be dangerous. I realized this at the ashram where I was a photographer and surrounded by numerous beautiful women serving me hand and foot."

"Rossaroni, I don't live that way, you can't expect us to give up those comforts that protect us from the bitter cold or broiling heat?"

"Listen Woody, I don't trust them - we should be closer to the abrasive elements of nature"

I took a streetcar home from dinner, looking at the street signs, thinking about the chickens and the ports we had sacked and told Lady Lyme Weoghe all about my dinner with Rossaroni

Operation Excelsior Dramatis

The Admiral had it all figured out. This gambit was known as “The Old Squawk” and it was never known to fail unless the individual under control had somehow broken the conditioning. Ridiculous! This was of course impossible and, relieved, the Admiral then began whistling a catchy tune, which in another part of the multi-verse was the bridge portion of Matthew Sweet’s 1990’s hit “Girlfriend.” Regrettably, he was interrupted by Woody.

“You know what?”

“What is it now Woody?”

“I think this cabin is a couple inches smaller than Turnips.”

“Oh, uh, yes, well I’m not really concerned with that now.”

“Can I look at your magic sword, Sabrina? I need to practice for the big battle.”

“No not right now – I’m looking for something for the Chicken-based assault on Lord Toranaga’s stronghold”

“Please, please, please?”

“Huh, ok, sure you can, just don’t swing it around in here – as you pointed out, this cabin isn’t very large.”

“No problemo skipper, I’ll be careful”

“Really? I recall Lady Lyme Weoghe recounting numerous instances of you pushing buttons marked ‘don’t push’ and pulling levers marked with similar warning signs.”

“Look, I said, I’ll be careful plus you know Lady Lyme Weoghe is always exaggerating about things like that.”

“I find her advice to quite sage actually but ok, here you go”

“Nice” and Woody began to swing the glowing +4 long sword about. He even practiced a few thrusts at life sized dummy of Sir Bocking the Admiral used for “batting practice.”

“Why that fink – He’ll pay for that - he painted buckteeth and 'google eyes' on that dummy!” Sir Bocking whispered half to himself and half to Kaotic E and Zimbar as he peered through the peep hole he’d drilled for the express purpose of spying on the Admiral. Sir Bocking however, was about to be rewarded with a rare treat for Woody had raised the shining blade over his head and was about to cleave the fencing dummy in twain. Instead of striking the dummy though, the blade made fatal contact with the over-sized crystal chandelier the Admiral had installed after the last sacking. The chandelier of course came crashing down right on the Admiral.

“Woody you blithering ….. “ was all he could say as stars and cartoon bluebirds filled his mind's eye.


Luckily he came too in what seemed like moments later but he was no longer in his cabin. Instead he was surrounded on three sides by what seemed like a very flimsy wall with bits of multi-colored cloth tossed over the walls in the fashion of drapes. The Admiral noticed he was surrounded by eleven other gentlemen not wearing swords or chainmail but dressed in toga like outfits completely sans weapons. A plate and goblet had been placed in front of each on long table and a man with a beard and long hair was looking directly at him and singing. The ten remaining coves gazed at him wearing shocked expressions and making denials of various sorts. The singer appeared to be directing his wrath directly at the Admiral as he belted out a song.

“One of you here dining, one of my twelve chosen will leave to betray me!”

There was an awkward silence followed by a "I'll have a Morey Amsterdam sandwich if you've got one"

"CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT" yelled an annoyed director.