The Warthogs at Kovalenko
Another perfectly beautiful evening in Kubrik—a perfection so intense it would turn your stomach. Robert Corso never really noticed it, because he had a penchant for noting the little imperfections in his life. Subsequently, the pills he had been prescribed circumvented the perfection depression. It threw everything into perspective. What could be worse than being happy and not even recognizing it?
Kovalenko Meat Bar, again, for the fourth night in a row. Miss Sacha was her normally friendly self, as usual. Being regulars helped make certain that the food was served quick, the drinks served fast, and the price a little lower than usual.
Bob sat with his elbow on the table, staring into his glass of Moskovskaya. The Warthogs were present and accounted for: Doom, Mitya and Dolph… well, Dolph was present physically…
“At what point,” Doom was saying, “Does a spoiler become common knowledge?”
Mitya looked lost, “I didn’t—“
“No, I’m just saying—I’m just saying—at what point, to you, does a spoiler become common knowledge—how long does an individual have to read a book until the contents within enter the realm of common knowledge?”
“All their life, it should be.”
“All their life—so you’re saying that nobody should EVER speak of major plot point until everyone has read said plot point for themselves?”
“I didn’t say that, I just—“
“But you did, no, no, you did, what you basically said is nobody can talk about pivotal story moments unless everybody has read the story for themselves.”
“Well…”
“I think you’re just mad Doom spoiled the last Empirical book for you,” Bob finally said.
“Of course I’m mad! I haven’t gotten to that part yet—“
“Okay, okay, now wait,” Doom started, “What was that one movie—that old Earth movie, what was it called? That really old one about the kitsch space wars?”
“Starship Troopers,” Dolph blurted.
“Star Wars,” Bob drawled.
“That’s it, Star Wars: are you telling me that after all this time, if you haven’t seen ‘Star Wars’, then somebody telling you that Death Vader—“
“Darth,” Bob corrected.
“—whatever—that the bad guy was the good guy’s father, you’re telling me that still qualifies as spoiler material?”
Mitya sighed, “It’s way too old to matter—“
“Exactly!” Doom pointed out, “So what year did it no longer matter? When will it no longer matter what happens in the last Empirical book?”
“Hey guys, what’s going on?”
Doom and Mitya turned around from the bar. Dolph turned a second slower and in the opposite direction. Adelais Aberdash walked up close behind Corso who suddenly looked as if he might fall off his stool.
“Greetings Major,” Doom said, bowing slightly, “I was just telling Mitya here to stop being a wussie.”
Mitya flipped off Doom. Doom chuckled and took another drink.
“Dmitry,” Adelais began as she reached around Corso, snapping up the glass of vodka he was apparently too hypnotized by to drink from and finishing off the beverage herself, “Stop being a wussie.”
Mitya’s jaw dropped. Dolph’s shoulders shuddered as he laughed quietly—but he may have been crying, who knows?
“C’mon, Corso,” Adelais said, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the bar stool, “You can take me out to dinner. You too, Dmitry. Keh’s waiting for us.”
“Bye guys,” Corso waved weakly, “Apparently, I’m taking her to dinner.”
“No hard feelings, Mitya?” Doom asked.
“You and I aren’t on speaking terms for a week,” Mitya said over his shoulder.
“Aw, come on, don’t be that way,” Doom acted heartbroken, “Come back here—gimmie a kiss.”
Mitya left Kovalenko with a finger over each shoulder. Doom sighed as he turned back to the bar, “Women… troublemakers. Tearing the warthogs to pieces, they are. Oughta have Jacob outlaw them.”
Dolph looked over at Doom with a sudden lucidity, “Did I tell you I downloaded Syne’s secretary the other day?”
“Wanker,” Doom mumbled behind his mask as he took another careful sip of vodka.
Return to 5 Minute Fluid Tales
Return to FrontPage
Comments (0)
You don't have permission to comment on this page.