Lemonworld

(Sequel to 'Lemonade'!) 

 

"Barb, remind me why we have to have dinner with a park ranger again," Ron commented sarcastically as he straightened his orange tie.

 

"We are doing this because the doctor said that you should be active, especially after your fall," Barb replied. "Besides, when was the last time we dined out?" She smiled. That was her way of saying, "Just go along with it."

 

"No..." Ron paused to think. "Wasn't that guy the local medicine man? The one with a cats and dogs degree, I think," he continued, as he held the large mahogany doors open for Barb. Once inside, Ron looked around the dining room. The likes of divorced insurance salesmen, grey suits stained from pizza, and middle-aged businesswomen seemed to mingle at the bar.

 

It had all the makings of a rustic lodge: wooden trusses holding the ceiling up, paired with the log-cabin-esque walls, and a few antler chandeliers. At the far side of the room, an out of place stand-up comedian, dressed with a red blazer and a Stanzo fedora, was setting up for his show. Ron and Barb eyed Rocky, the park ranger they had met in Bright Falls, who waved to them excitedly from the table he had reserved.

 

"Howdy folks! You guys made it just in time for the comedy night," Rocky greeted the couple. "Oh, and Ron, you look much better since that tumble you took!"

 

"Uh, thanks, Rocky," Ron mumbled as he sat down. In front of each of them sat sirloin steaks, just barely illuminated by the lamp in the center of their table. The chandeliers were turned off, and a lone spotlight was cast on the comedian as the show started.

 

"You usually spell 'love' with four letters, right? I do too...C. A. S. H."

 

Rocky, Barb, and a few other folks in the crowd chuckled at the joke. The man on the stage crumpled up a little piece of paper and lit it on fire with his cigar.

 

"What the fuck?" Ron said under his breath. Barb looked at him and then back at the stage.

 

The comedian continued, "Water may be blue, but air isn't!" He winked at Ron. "I need a show of hands. Has anyone here ever had a sloppy steak from Truffoni's?" Most of the 60-year-old metal rocker uncles in the crowd raised their hands. "Well, Sloppy Joe is a person, but Sloppy Beef is a cow!" Rocky laughed, whistled, and cheered, "Funniest man on Earth", all within a few seconds, to Ron's annoyance.

 

Ron stood up and gestured to the crowd. "This guy fucking sucks, doesn't he!" A mysterious man entered the dining room. Ron turned around, but couldn't see the man without the chandeliers' light. The comedian yells, "You should hear your own jokes, pal!" Ron squinted to try and see the man in the dark, and ignored the performer. "Hey, look at me while I'm insulting you, please." 

 

The main lights came on and Ron sat next to the mystery man at the bar. "Greetings, Ron. Nice to see you here," the man said.

 

"Sammy Paradise, ol' two eyes himself. What the hell are you wearing?" Ron smacked Sammy's polka dot blazer. "Are you dressing up as Pee-wee Herman?"

 

"Okay, I'm a little tired of you." Sammy grabbed Ron by his orange tie, spun him around a few hundred times, and tackled him headfirst into one of the dining tables. He then grabbed the tie again, dragged Ron across the table to clean up the spilt drinks, and then bashed a glass on his head. "Oh, and Ron, tell your wife I say hi."

 

Ron, in a dazed state, and an utter mess, ran to Barb and Rocky who sat at the table. Rocky offered Barb an adventure, free of cost. "Picture this, Barb: us, bathing in the moonlight. Nothing but you, me, and the wilderness!" 

 

"Barb, we need to get out of here," Ron spoke in a hushed voice.

 

Barb asked, surprisingly serious, "Did you hit another person?" Ron's silence gave Barb her answer. "Fuck, I'm stuck here with a toddler," she guzzled down a full glass of wine.

 

The doors to the dining room were kicked open, SWAT-style, by a fat Black man and a short Asian lady toting pimped-out silver machine guns. "Everybody put your hands up!"

 

Paul, a guy who Ron met in writing class, stood up. "Who are you guys?"

 

"We're the prom night dumpster babies."

 

"Wasn't that a song by Seth MacFarlane?"

 

The fat Black man, dressed in a Nigerian prince robe, shot the ceiling ten times. "Give me all of your steak," he yells. Paul did not comply. "Put your steak in the fucking bag!" He pointed the gun in his face. 

 

"Are you a scammer, by chance?"

 

"What? What the fuck about me makes you think that?"

 

"The Nigerian prince outfit," Paul paused. "Never mind." 

 

The short Asian lady came over to Barb, Ron, and Rocky's table. "Hey, aren't you the lady who cut across eight lanes of traffic," asked Rocky, which may have been a mistake. "Well, I best be going, milady." Rocky nervously smiled, grabbed his beer, and tried to make a getaway, but slipped on a piece of Ron's tie, and fell flat on his face.

 

"Orange is the shittiest color in the rainbow," Rocky tried to yell, but was muffled by the floor.

 

-

 

Written by Jerry Zervas on 1/23/26. Released 49 days after 'Lemonade'!

DO NOT USE UNLESS GIVEN PERMISSION BY ME (i.e. email me)