Friday, April 8, 2011

WHERE I MET HER ~ By Absolutely*Kate of Harbinger*33 ~ a FlashFiction snazzy delight

RatPack break
to FlashFiction
with the Friday
flingers . . . 

 
WHERE I MET HER
By Absolutely*Kate 

 
POUGHKEEPSIE'S PATOOTIE
Betty's Burlesque on Broad was the best. As a matter of fact, Betty's Burlesque brought in out-of-towners better than anybody's business. Pete down at the Pickadilly Pub loved the trickle-down crowds that Betty's packin' 'em in brought in to his jivey gin joint. Matter o'fact, it was while bumping gums at Pete's over a Pabst that Betty first introduced me to the ringer of a southern belle she brought up north. When she slipped me five over our Howd'ya do's, I knew this dame was one smooth patootie. 

Poughkeepsie never saw the likes like anything like Fanny Lights. I'm not talkin' off the cob -- that was her snazzy stage name, Keen-o huh? And Fanny was one hot tomato catchin' up her moniker to top the line-up and shine in all the best lights, lemme tell ya.

I was one of the new canary hoofers on the block when Fanny lit up Poughkeepsie. Hell, parts of Albany still regale funny Fanny tales. She flounced a bendover flourish to her finish that had the fellers stompin' their clodhoppers for encores when encores were over. I'm tellin' ya - ya had to see it to believe it, and you always remembered it after that. 

NOTHING LIKE LUSCIOUS ... LINGERING
Luck o'the draw I got the makeup table next to hers. Me? I just had the basics of a rouge and Maybelline kit Ma worked up with a tube of Luscious Linger Revlon thrown in for pizazz, but Fanny? WhoooBoy! Did she come satin and gold stitched makeup bag loaded! There was dusting powder and glittery powder and a special perfumy soft white talcum she puffed on her bum. Said it made her twirl faster, just knowin' she was feelin' it there. And could Fanny twirl her fanny! WhoooBoy!

~ ~ ~
SWEET "SUGAR IN MY BOWL"
There was a signature song that did belong to how Sandusky Sammi's dance went along. Fifi Royale, who was the first muffin I met who knew brunos from the hoosegow, would twitch her hip gyrations to it too, then beam her cleavage practically downtown to the boys in the back row. That number was always worth a good hoot and holler gettin' a whole lot more than what a ticket for a dollar bought those days. The song was "Sugar in My Bowl", you know, the Bessie Smith version. Well Sammi gave the sweetest striptease you please to that one. Things weren't eggs in the coffee smooth no more though when Fanny got it in her noggin that showstoppering should be mainly her gig. "Lament", she wanted Gus in the little combo down front to really lay out. With a honey cooler to the smacker, she sweet-talked Gus to table "Sugar in My Bowl". As you can imagine, that kibosh arrangement was no happy place setting with Sammi. 

OH THAT MR PARKINS. HE'S NO ANGEL.
Sammi groused to hardboiled Mr Parkins, our stage-manager, but with four little big mouths to feed back home, he played it safe and snitched to Betty. Betty, fond of the folding green Fanny drew in, canned Sammi's showstopper. Damn, did that slam Sammi right in her silks and sequins. Most the times, Sammi was one swell lady, real high heels with no totters to 'em, but desperate times call for desperate measures so she listened with open affirms on her squirms to the trick that ol'Fifi thunked up. Itchin' powder. Yep, oooooooh boy, those dames stirred it right into that perfumy bum talc . . . 
 
THE LIGHTS FANNY-TASTIC SPARKED!
Man oh man! Did Fanny Lights hit her mark and spark that night. I felt the room swayin' and the band playin' -- wait, sorry, that's just Satchmo on my mind, occupational habit, it happens all the time. Thing was, with all the twitchin' goin' on 'round all the twirling drivin' the crowds frenzy-crazy, Fanny caught the roving eye of a tall lanky looker in the front row. Tom somethin', it'll come to me later. The fella was an optometrist salesman takin' a load off his satchel toting for what pleasures an evening in Poughkeepsie could presumably offer.
 
To make a long story just a tad shorter, he sought the pleasures that Poughkeepsie's best at Betty's Burlesque had to offer. Hung out 'round back by the stage door and offered to make Fanny an offer down on bended knee that she couldn't refuse. Ya shoulda got a gander at how this guy's peepers spelled s-i-n-c-e-r-i-t-y. It was scrumpdiddlylicious and sooooo romantical. Could'ya guess? Fanny said "yes," and made tracks to catch the train to become Tom's first rate mate. Oh yeah, it's comin' to me now. Cheezum, that was the fine feller's last name.
 
~ ~ ~
 
I heard she's using a fancified version of her name now and scrawling stories into real page-turners from down South. Gee Whilikers, wonder if our paths will ever cross again, huh? Well, it's almost time for the show to go on again and I'll be darned if Katie May Storm isn't going to perform. Me? I'm like a tempest. I kept Fanny's glitter powder. I figgered if I use just a little right here 'neath the lacy stitchery balancing on my nipples I'd create my own sheen to the scene.
 
I'm no Fanny, 
but Betty said it woiks. 

Oh, and Sandusky Sammi is swingin' to "Sugar In My Bowl" for our Saturday night finales.

Every story has
its own sweet ending.

(c) 2011 ~ Author Absolutely*Kate,
believing in showstoppering AT THE BIJOU
PHOTO CREDITS: Alastair Middleton @pub;
Pascal Pino @Lingering Luscious & Mr Parkins;
John Sexton @"Sugar In My Bowl" choreography;
KT Bell @Fanny Lights and my own sweet ending.
 
 
HEY there!
 Catch my act over at Jeanette Cheezum's
'Cavalcadeofthestars' joint come next Tuesday.

Be sure to bring your clodhoppers, hear?


 ~ NOW ~
BACK TO OUR FINAL ACTS

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


RAT PACK SHOWS 
PLAYING AT THE BIJOU

         
RATPACKREVUE

Tuesdays.

Thursdays.
Sunday Matinees too.

Be there or be square.

RATPACKREVUE 
AT THE BIJOU



"Dig it you cool cats!"

~ Absolutely*Kate
and our snazzy staff of renown

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

RAT PACK REVUE: "Bung Ho!" ~ By Sean Patrick Reardon

Fringe Rat Pack?
He certainly hung with the best ~
(and not too shabby on the peepers either!)

"Bung Ho!"
By ~ Sean Patrick Reardon


The gang's all here and we’re back in the old Mulholland house. Niven, Hale, and Rathbone paid off the new owner to make themselves scarce for the weekend, so we could have one last get together. The drink is flowing and the stories are flying. Eat your hearts out Cabot and Tiger Lil you money grubbing bastards. I may be down, but I’m never out. You would have got your money Bruce and sure, maybe the Cinemascope was a bit much, but I never did anything worth doing half arsed. William Tell could have been a contender.
 
Yeah, old sports, this is what you might call the final roast and if it was good enough for Jack Barrymore it’s all the better for me.  It’s great to be back, even if it’s for just for a few hours before I’m due back at the morgue. The way I look at, I’m just reprising my role in The Case of the Curious Bride. Hell, even propped up in this chair, suited up, fedora tilted just right, and a Chesterfield parting my lips, half the dames in L.A. would still want to be “in like Flynn”.
 
Stop your crying Olivia and drink up. You know no one could make my tights malfunction like you my dear. Bette, you feisty little minx in petticoats, don’t think for a minute I wouldn’t have slapped you right back in the kisser if film wasn’t rolling when we did that scene in Elizabeth and Essex.
 
If I had my way, I’d have Cardiff film this right now.
 
Don’t look so happy about all this Niven and always remember our days at Cirrhosis by the Sea. I know I will. And Nigel, if they were real sword fights, you might have been able to kill me anytime you wanted, but I always got the girl. Doug Fairbanks and Ty Power couldn’t carry our jock straps.
 
Hale, my friend, we shall meet again and ride off into the sunset just like we did in Don Juan.
 
I’ve had my share of good times and bad ones, good movies and ones I did just for the paycheck, yet I never lost my zest for living life and squeezing every last drop I could out of her.
 
Sure I cringe about The Steve Allen Show, standing next to Don Knotts, who’s sporting my trademark mustache. The Martha Rea show wasn’t exactly my proudest moment either.
 
I want you all to know what a wild ride it’s been and I don’t regret a single second of it. Sure, there were tough times, but that’s what you get when you chase a star that’s always just over the horizon.

 
Goodbye old sports, the Zaca is leaving port. I’m captaining her on the eternal journey and you will all be welcomed aboard as time passes.  Bung Ho!


(c) 2011 ~ Author Sean Patrick Reardon
making his AT THE BIJOU debut!


SEAN PATRICK REARDON? Wow! Have you been reading this thriller of a Thriller author? Crisp, edgy wordsworthy rascal cutting details into storylines you want to read three times vs just two. (Yeah, he's THAT good!) Sean's not only a toppling talent in the rising crime star firmament, but he's Mr Generosity Good Guy to fiction authors across the wilds of WebTowne.  

No doubt you've tasted the enthuse of this fella's muse in commentaries and sharing-the-shout praises of what's savvy and cool 'round writers' worlds. He reviews, he spreads good stirring news and behind a lacrosse stick he gets his Irish up too. But you can figger that out ~ right here at his multi-enterprising website of  MINDJACKER, where a debut novel launches forth.
(Yeah Julie, I agree ~ Dude's sexy as all get out too! 
Oh yeah - Errol too!)

Buy AT THE BIJOU ~ Stage Right

MINDJACKER: A Crime Thriller

When wealthy Russian mobsters contract L.A. psychologist Joel Fischer to develop a device to manipulate minds, the Dreemweever exceeds all expectations. Everything is on track for delivery and a big payday, until two adventurous stoners steal his Dodge Challenger that, unknown to them, contains the Dreemweever in its trunk. Fischer and his crew have two days to get it back or he dies.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


RAT PACK SHOWS 
PLAYING AT THE BIJOU

         
RATPACKREVUE

Tuesdays.

Thursdays.
Sunday Matinees too.

Be there or be square.

RATPACKREVUE 
AT THE BIJOU

Always swell to see you here.

~ Absolutely*Kate,
and our swanky staff of renown



THE PACK DON'T WANT YA TO MISS A SHOW:

Sinatra: "If power doesn't mean that you have the opportunity to work with the people that you love, then you haven't really got any."

Opening Night: "RAT PACK REVUE TO YOU"

RAT PACK REVUE: "How Did All These People Get Into My Room?"  By Robert J Randisi,
working the lounge before he hits the main room

RAT PACK REVUE: "Ain't That A Kick In The Head"  By Robert J Randisi, paying homage to Ocean's 11, the original . . . for all the right reasons

RAT PACK REVUE:  "Who's Got The Action"  By Kevin Michaels, knowin' more than the night club scene  

RAT PACK REVUE:  "STAR"  By Julie Morgan,  hitchin' TinselTown to a dick's star

RAT PACK REVUE:  "OH SOUL O'MIO"  By Absolutely*Kate,  mirroring where scars shine bright

RAT PACK REVUE:  "Divorce Your Loved One With Dignity"  By Anthony Venutolo,  oozing atmosphere, over the border
 
RAT PACK REVUE:  "Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime"  By Paul D Brazill, giving Dino a whole new swan song  

RAT PACK REVUE:  "THE GREAT AMERICAN SAILING HERO"  By Absolutely*Kate, scuttling the way the tides roll in
RAT PACK REVUE:  "DON'S DILEMMA"  By Eric Beetner, definitely digging deeper . . . 
 

RATPACKREVUE 
  
~ ON OUR SWANKY STAGE ~


BIJOU DEBUT ~ JULIE (LEWTHWAITE) MORGAN ~ SEAN PATRICK REARDON

PLUS STAGE AFTER PAGE AGAIN ~ OUR HEADLINER ~
MORE OF RAT PACK MYSTERY AUTHOR ROBERT J RANDISI

WITH A RAT PACK INTERVIEW AN FINALE OF AN RJR ~ ROAST ~ AT THE BIJOU


~ ~ ~ ~

STAY TUNED. 
You're nobody til somebody love you,
and we love you AT THE BIJOU.
ENJOY.
~ ~ ~ ~