Sorry this is waaayyyy overdue...and it's a cop-out as it is. I've gotta work on jokes for Fozzie. Anyways here's a shortie for ya'll to enjoy..that is if anyone is still reading this.
Chapter Seven
Keyboards clacked and bleeps were heard inside the store. Everyone wondered around aimlessly as Christyb waited at the front of the store muttering to herself. Outside there was more water in the air than in a lake. Music could be heard from street musicians. It was another hot day in Memphis. A dark haired man approached the counter stopping to shoo Rizzo and his barbeque sandwich outside.
“Welcome to Golez Computer Supply and Repair. How can I help you?” the gentleman pushed his glasses further up his nose.
Christyb glared at her computer slamming it a little harder than she should have onto the countertop. “The hard drive is fried. I need you to try and get everything you can off of it.”
“Any file in particular?” he asked pushing his glasses back up.
“Yeah maybe the one labeled ‘script’?” Steve joined Christy and Kermit at the counter looking at the IT, “Say you look familiar….Don’t I know you?”
“I don’t think so. The name is Dave…Dave Goelz owner/operator of Beale Street’s only computer store. I’ll be right back with this thing.” He said leaving to the abyss of computers in his office.
Christyb turned around and leaned against the white counter. She muttered to herself, “I knew I shoulda grabbed the Mac instead. Why didn’t I grab it?”
Kermit just shook his head ignoring her. Letting her lament and kick herself was the only way to get it out of her system. “So what did you and the others find out Steve?”
“Good news. Lisa, Scooter, and Dr. Teeth are with Lips and Zoot now. All is forgiven and they jumped at the chance to come with us. We just have one hitch though.” Steve dumped his guitar case down on the floor with a thud.
“What’s that?” Kermit asked leaning forward.
“Apparently they open at a nightclub for another act tonight. It’s a comedy team. They call themselves ‘Fozzie and Fozzie’” Steve said watching Christy arguing to Dave Golez behind the counter.
“Fozzie and Fozzie you say? I’ve heard of them. Their writer used to be Gags Beasley. Before The Great Gonzo snatched him up. We have time. Apparently the show is salvageable but he’s gonna need overnight and an exhorbant amount of money to get it off and be willing to work on it all night. That’s we have time to kill the hard way.” Christy said as they left the shop.
The group met again on the street. The hot summer sun beat down on them as music drifted in the air. Dr. Teeth checked his watch and remarked on how much time they had until Zoot and Lips were due at the club. Soon it was decided that Graceland was the next stop. After wading through the Elvis junkies and weirdos they were finally in line to get into the house.
In a matter of minutes a tour guide in a navy uniform came to the door. Beside him stood a penguin with several pieces of posterboard under his wing. The tourguide cleared his throat and pointed to the penguin who held up a card saying “Quiet Please” and began the tour. Maybe it was Elvis’s house. Maybe it was the barbeque sandwiches they all ate before hand. Whatever it was Lisa seemed to share a brain with the tour guide.
Evening was fast approaching as the tour ended. The group waited outside in the bus as their new friend Ryan argued with his boss. All that could be seen or heard for that matter was a lot of….well that noise that penguins make. Ryan walked back with a paycheck that was quickly added to the group’s limited cash. Two new crazies were added as they all headed to the club.
A large circle table in the corner was crammed with people. Zoot and Lips treated everyone to dinner. They performed old jazz favorites much to the pleasure of the crowd. After two encores from the corner table, the owner stood to the microphone, “Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for folks! For your enjoyment the comedy duo of Fozzie and Fozzie!”
Kermit heard the cheers and barely noticed the bear and man whose name was really Kevin apparently. His eyes were drawn to the corner of the room. A waitress in the uniform of a black slacks and a white shirt took another table’s order. Something was different about her. She turned her blond head slightly to reveal a face of an angel. Kermit’s breath caught in this throat. A nudge to his side didn’t even break his stare.
“Go buy her a drink,” Steve Whitmire leaned over in the middle of the jokes whispering to Kermit.
“Buy who a what?” Kermit shook his head and stammered.
“The one you’re staring at. The pig waitress. Buy her a drink.” Steve whispered.
As if they had a mind of his own Kermit stood and walked to the bar where the waitress was in the middle of clocking out.