Tiger Blues

Three days after the defeat of the lawyer by the lethal power of RD Rivero and Johnny Chochran, the merry band of miscreants inhabiting Barney the Purple Spaceship were still waiting to see some action. But had they wanted it badly enough, they need only have ventured to the crew deck, to the quarters shared by the dreaded Master of All Evil and his "accomplice", Lady Thundera. In fact, they need not venture futher than the hall outside their door.

"Admit it!" Lady Thundera screamed. "You have feelings for her, don't you?!"

"Don't be absurd, woman," RD replied levelly. "Our relationship is strictly professional."

"Then how do you explain this?!" Through the door came a squeaking sound, followed by a tinny recording of Thundera Tiger's voice saying, "How did I get dragged into this?"

RD sighed. "That was a prop from Fianna's second riff. I kept it for a souvenier."

"Oh really?" Lady Thundera said sarcastically. "Then how is it that I come in here to find the lights turned down, 'Let Me Call You Sweetheart' playing on the stereo, and you cuddled up to this, this, this THING on the divan? WELL?!"

Silence for a moment, then, "Gimmie a second, I'll think of something."

"AAAARRRGGHH!!"

There followed a series of incoherent yells and sound of things breaking. Then the door opened and RD Rivero stepped out into the hall. He paused to remove a stuffed toy tiger's tail from his mouth, then dropping it on the floor, he walked gloomily to the elevator.

He disembarked at the recreation deck. Tygra was still strapped to the rack in his playroom, and RD figured the tiger was due for a little more chiropractic adjustment. True, Tygra wouldn't feel any better when it was done, but Rivero was fairly sure he himself would.

As he walked, his ears detected the note of piano music, lounge-style, wafting along the hall. He looked for the source and discovered a door labeled "Dr Zhie's Lonely Hearts Club". Intrigued, he went inside.

The room was dark and smokey, full of the aromas of alchohol, tobacco, and sundry other intoxicants. At the far end was a player piano, and seated at the keys, a familiar green nincompoop, pretending to strike the keys in time to the music.

"It would be more impressive if you actually played," Rivero chuckled at the caninoid.

"Harmonica is my instrument, and even that depends on who you ask," Fianna replied. "What brings you here? Come to free your mind for further stretches of tiger destruction?"

RD pulled up a seat and leaned on the piano top. "Tigers yes, destruction no. Rather, I seek to dull the ache within my fevered mind, the endless thirst for striped bodies that pervades my every waking moment."

Fianna looked at him quizzically while the piano spooled up a fresh tune. As the music began, the caninoid began to sing.

"You know they got you when you can't put them away-ay."

He waited, then RD mumbled, "And so you think of brand new ways to make them pay-ay."

Fianna: "You squished 'em, smashed 'em, squashed 'em, done them wrong..."

Together: "I hope a cure for tigers comes along."

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Fianna said.

RD: "It's no use complaining, and pointless to hollar."

F: "When it's got stripes then it'll get under your collar."

RD: "They turn invisible and then they're gone..."

Tog: "I hope a cure for tigers comes along."

RD: "Now I must be messin', at least that's what I'm guessin', to be hooked on those silky stripes"

F: "Uh-huh, you know it."

RD: "But it's my obsession, I'm doomed beyond question..."

Tog: "Til El-Tee comes to put out my liiiiiights."

RD: "No doubt about it, it's tigers I'm willing."

F: "Until New Year's you said there'd be no more killing."

RD: "And now I'm suffering from tiger withdrawl...

Tog: "I hope a cure for tigers comes..."

Tog: "I hope a cure for tigers comes aloooooooong."

"Feel better now?" Fianna asked.

RD got up and slammed back his drink. He turned to face the caninoid, and that old familiar gleam resurfaced in his eye.

"There's always panthers," he said, and walked out of the bar, cackling madly.

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