Halloween
Home Up Jungle Fever


 

 

MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO:

THE HALLOWEEN PARTY FROM HELL

Written by Rick Archer 

 

 
 
 

Rick Archer's Note:  

In previous chapters, I have offered a slew of reasons why I had every right to thoroughly dislike Bob Job.  To refresh your memory, here is what I said.

"Why do I like Bob Job?  I asked myself that question all the time.  Bob was smarter than me.  Bob was funnier than me.  Bob made more money than me.  Bob beat me at chess.  Bob was sarcastic and liked to give me a hard time.  Bob pointed out he had plenty of girlfriends while I was stuck with useless you-know-who.  Plus he ruined my Halloween Party.  Seriously, to this day I don't why I kept him around.

"Plus he ruined my Halloween Party...

This is the story.  Trust me, it was worth the wait.

One more thing... when I give Bob a hard time, I am just teasing.  It's a guy thing.

 
 
 


FLASHBACK:  HALLOWEEN 1980 (one year ago)
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31
 

STRANGE BREW
 

 

The seeds for the disastrous 1981 Halloween Party from Hell were sown at Halloween Party one year earlier. 

As we recall, I was stumped by the infamous Riddle of the Double Turns.  Bob told me not to worry.  Bob was so certain he could figure out the solution to the Riddle, I went ahead and scheduled a Double Turn class based on his promise.  I was terrified some other teacher would begin teaching these turns before me, so I took a huge gamble and offered to teach the class before I knew the secret.

It seemed like a safe bet.  After all, Bob was the Mad Scientist, the guy whose creativity was legendary at Shell Oil.  Stupid me, I actually believed he deserved his lofty reputation.  Bob was such a smart guy, I counted on his genius to help me.  So did Bob come through for me?  NO!  August passed.  No solution.  September passed.  No solution.  October passed.  Still no solution.  On the eve of my comeuppance, I was panic-stricken. 

The worst moment took place at the 1980 Halloween Party, Friday night, October 31.  I was scheduled to teach the turns on the following Monday.  All night long at the party my students asked if I would tell them the secret ahead of time.  Still clueless, I had to bluff all evening long.  Why didn't I tell the truth?  Bob and I planned to meet with Judy Price the next morning.  During the party, Bob swore up and down he would deliver as promised.  So I spent the entire night lying to people that I was prepared for the Monday class.

 

So what happened the next morning, Saturday?  We failed to come up with the answer.  I was forced to confess on Monday night that I needed more time.  This was a very humiliating defeat.  I was facing at least 30 people I had lied to throughout the Halloween Party.  Lord only knows what awful things they were thinking on Monday as I humbly admitted my failure. 

Fortunately, one week later a stranger named Herb Fried solved the problem.  But the damage was done.  Although I survived to teach another day, I was haunted by my foolish gamble to promise something before I was able to deliver.  So who did I blame?  Myself?  Heck no.  I blamed Bob.  Bob let me down! 

The next time I saw him, I chewed him out.  "You set me up, you big oaf!  You owe me big time!  How are you going to make it up to me?"

To his credit, Bob was full of chagrin.  He was just as upset as me.  After apologizing, Bob said he had a great idea.  "Next year I promise to deliver the BEST HALLOWEEN PARTY OF ALL TIME!"

I smiled hopefully.  "That would be great.  I was thinking of burning you at the stake for entertainment.  But if you have a better idea, let me hear it."

"Yes, I have a great idea!  Back when I was in college I was always in charge of mixing the brew for my frat parties.  I can stir up a wicked punch!  You will be pleased.  Your party will be rocking thanks to my help. 

We talked about it for a while.  Bob was very persuasive.  He guaranteed his 'Strange Brew' would liven things up.  "Take my word for it, your next Halloween Party will be memorable."  Sometimes people hear what they want to hear.  I believed him.

In Hindsight, Bob was right about one thing.  His Strange Brew would indeed make next year's party memorable. 

 
 

 

FLASHBACK:  HALLOWEEN 1980 (one year ago)
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31
  

THE DANCE WAX FIASCO
 

 

In addition to 'Riddle of the Double Turns', something else went wrong at the 1980 Halloween Party.

As we recall, October 1980 was my first month at Dance Arts.  After Lance Stevens told me to leave Stevens of Hollywood in mid-September, Glen Hunsucker had rescued me with an offer to join him.  In mid-October I decided to ask Glen permission to hold a Halloween Party.  Unfortunately, holding dance parties had never been discussed in our rental agreement.  To my dismay, when I asked Glen if I could hold a Halloween Party, he was very skeptical.  After much persuasion on my part, Glen finally said okay.  However, first I had to agree to his conditions.  

"You will have to pay extra rent and you will need to bring your own sound equipment.  You will make sure the studio is clean afterwards and that all decorations come down on Sunday.  Otherwise this will be the last party you will hold at my studio."

I was glad to receive permission, but the party itself was a neverending headache due to the unsolved Riddle of the Double Turn.  Flustered by a barrage of questions, I spent the night fibbing to everyone that I knew the secret when in reality I was clueless.  As if that wasn't distracting enough, Ammonia deliberately tried to get Victoria jealous, so that was another fire to put out.  Overwhelmed with problems, I made a serious mistake.  About an hour before the party ended a guest asked permission to use some dance wax he had brought along.  I was not sure what to say.  I knew absolutely nothing about dance wax.  I had never heard of it nor did I know how it was supposed to be used.  Back when I worked at Stevens of Hollywood, Lance Stevens was in charge of the floor.  As a result, I knew nothing about how to care for a dance floor.  Since Glen's dance floor was a bit sticky due to spilled drinks, I decided dance wax seemed like a reasonable request.  What could be the harm?  I said okay, then walked away to deal with my next headache.  

My first mistake was to say yes to something I knew nothing about.  My second mistake was my failure to observe what came next.  To make his girlfriend happy, the man sprinkled the entire contents from two cans across the entire floor.  Two cans!!  Turns out this guy did not know any more about dance wax than I did.  We quickly discovered this dance wax was murder.  The wax coated the entire floor with a surface so slick we could have played ice hockey in there.  What a nightmare!!  Unable to dance without fear of falling down, everyone complained.  Ordinarily a little sprinkle of dance wax is useful for sliding your feet, but this was ridiculous.  People could barely stand up, much less dance.  Soon my ears were burning.  You have no idea how many people chewed me out.  What a night. 

 

Sick to my stomach, I got out a broom and swept the wax up.  It did no good.  The damn stuff was coated to the floor.  With no idea what the antidote was, the dance wax effectively killed my party an hour early.  I watched helplessly as my guests shrugged their shoulders and took off.  I was fit to be tied.  After everyone left, I got a mop and worked over the entire floor.  It did not do a bit of goodI did not have a clue how to get this wax off the floor.  It probably needed a special chemical, but where would I find it at this hour?  After two hours of futility, I was exhausted.  Well past midnight and ready to collapse, I had no choice but give up and go home. 

At 8 am I was awakened by a phone call.  It was Glen calling on a Sunday morning.  The moment I answered, he started screaming about the dance wax.  Glen was furious that I had ruined his floor.  His jazz dancers were there for rehearsal, but they were unable to dance.  Jazz dancing requires quick stops and change of direction.  Each time a dancer planted her foot, her foot would skid.  With absolutely no traction, the dancers were in danger of hurting themselves.  My mistake prevented Glen from using the Big Room.

Fortunately Glen had a temporary solution.  He moved rehearsal to one of the rooms where I held my C&W classes.  Although the room was much smaller, at least the floor had no wax on it.  On Monday morning, Glen hired a man to remove the wax professionally.  The bill was over $500 and I was told to cover it.  That bill really stung.  That was a lot of money for me in those early days of my career.

However, the clean-up money was nothing compared to the psychic pain.  I stayed in Glen's doghouse for an entire year over that incident.  In addition, it led to repercussions when it came time to ask permission to hold the 1981 Halloween Party.

 
 


LIMBO MONTH TWENTY EIGHT
ONE YEAR LATER:  OCTOBER 198
1
 

GLEN'S DANCE COMPANY
 

 

Astrologically, October is my time of year.  As a Scorpio, the stars say I am fascinated with the Occult and the Hidden Side of things.  Interesting.  Turns out that describes me well.  While most people prefer Christmas, I prefer Halloween.  I get a big kick out of the costumes, the movies, the monsters and the legends.  As a result, the studio's Halloween Party has always been near and dear to my heart.

October 1981 marked the one year anniversary of my arrival at Dance Arts.  And what a year it had been!  1981 had been the best year of my life.  Which is a weird thing to say considering how often I complained about Victoria and my Captivity.  Fortunately, the phenomenal success of the dance program far outweighed my personal problems. 

Glen Hunsucker had been my dance teacher since December 1978.  Now he was my landlord as well.  Without warning, one year ago my former boss Lance Stevens had thrown me out of his dance studio.  I only had two weeks to find a new place for 500 dance students.  Talk about a jam!  By coincidence Glen had just moved into his new location.  One morning during a private lesson, Glen admitted he had bitten off more than he could chew.

As it turned out, I was the answer to Glen's prayer at the same time he was the answer to mine.  With his rent increase eating him alive, Glen welcomed the merger.  I was saved!  Glen taught jazz classes from 7-9 every night in Room One, aka the Big Room, while I taught in Room 2 and one of my instructors taught in Room 3.  That worked out very well.  At 9 pm my students left the studio and Glen began rehearsal for his dance company.  

 

However, there was one snag neither Glen nor I had anticipated.   How do I say this without being offensive?  On any given night, there were 20 to 30 teenage and college age female dancers who used the long hallway to reach their class in Room One.  Their form-fitting jazz tights had the same effect on men that bathing suits have on the beach.  The young ladies were very uncomfortable due to the disconcerting effect they had on the men.  After Glen complained, I had to remind the guys to please show discretion when the girls walked by.  The ladies helped by wearing leggings and a pullover on the way to class.  Fortunately, after a week or so, the awkwardness dissipated.  Everyone got used to everyone and we began to co-exist harmoniously.

 

Glen lived for his jazz company.  In addition to being a gifted dancer in his own right, Glen took great pride in training his youthful dance company.  Glen was a marvelous choreographer whose talented dancers reflected his creativity.  My only regret was not seeing Glen dance in his shows.  Glen preferred not to perform for fear he would dominate his protégés.  Although he was right, I selfishly wished Glen would change his mind.  Glen was by far the best male dancer I ever saw.  Glen was so good that he and his favorite dance partner, a pretty teenager named Paula Abbott, had appeared on the TV show Dance Fever.  

Ever since I moved to Dance Arts a year ago, I would occasionally hang around after my classes ended to watch the dancers rehearse for their next show.  There were some exceptionally attractive women in Glen's dance company.  I loved to adore them from afar.  I was 30 at the time.  Due to the ten-year difference in our ages, they were too young for me to consider dating.  However, they were definitely old enough for me to appreciate. 

 

In addition to admiring the beauty and talent of Glen's lovely young ladies during rehearsal, I had been to three of their performances.  The dancing of these well-curved nymphets knocked my socks off.  These young ladies were so magnetic, I often wished I could treat my students to a show.  Indeed, Glen's jazz dancers were totally amazing.  However I was the only one who knew this.  Why was that?

Since the performances were held at gay bars, it was impractical to invite my students to see the girls perform.  Nor had my students seen them practice at Dance Arts.  Two reasons.  Glen's rehearsals took place after my classes finished at 9 pm.  In addition, Glen closed the door to Room One to ensure privacy.  I was allowed to watch, but not my students.

In awe of their talent, I wanted my students to see how electric Glen's dance company was.  Why not hire them to perform at the Halloween Party?  However, when I ran it past Victoria, she was adamantly against it.  She thought it was a very bad idea.  What was her objection?  Despite her undying love for Glen, Victoria thought his choreography was too suggestive and the costumes were too skimpy. 

Victoria had a point.  Glen was from the Vegas school when it came to performing.  Glen believed in making it flashy and enticing.  He also believed in flesh.  His motto was 'make it sexy'.  That was an understatement.  Glen's dancers performed highly suggestive routines in revealing costumes.  He explained that many of his dancers hoped to make a living as professionals dancers.  If so, it was in their best interest to get used to dancing provocatively in skimpy outfits.  Better to shed their inhibitions now or get out before investing too much time in a dead end.

 

"All right," I answered, "but let me run something else past you.  Bob Job wants to mix the punch at the party this year.  He says his 'Strange Brew' will definitely liven things up.  What do you think?"

"Absolutely not!  After all those people you let down last year with the Double Turn problem, the last thing you want is to get everyone drunk.  I predict Bob will turn the party into Animal House.  Besides, Victoria added, "have you forgotten about the Dance Wax incident?  If you make one more mistake, Glen will probably forbid you to ever have another party at his studio." 

When Victoria mentioned the Dance Wax incident, I winced.  Victoria was right.  No Strange Brew, no Dancing Girls, no more gambles.  So that's where we left it. 

 
 


Tuesday, OCTOBER 20, 1981

BEGGING FOR PERMISSION
 

 

It was Tuesday, October 20, time for my regular Tuesday private lesson.  I wanted to ask Glen about hiring his dance company for my party.  Despite Victoria's misgivings, I knew his dancers would be a sensation at my party.  Since Glen's company was relatively new, they had no reputation.  They were the best dance company in Houston, but they were almost invisible. 

Here was the problem.  Glen was a fabulous dancer and excellent choreographer.  However, like many gifted artists, he was not very good at promotion.  So far he had relied on his friends in Houston's gay community to line up bookings, but it stopped there.  Over the past year, Glen had complained to me about his trouble finding enough bookings to keep the dancers busy.  If too much time elapsed between acts, their focus would dwindle.  Glen's bellyaching is what gave me the idea to ask him to let his company perform at my party.  They could definitely use the exposure.  However, first I had to get Glen's permission to even hold this year's party.  As I feared, a huge frown crossed Glen's face when I brought up the subject.

"Another Halloween Party?  Rick Archer, are you out of your mind?  Have you forgotten what happened last year?"

I paled visibly.  Over the past year, not a month passed without Glen reminding of my Dance Wax stupidity.  Glen had a hard time forgiving me.  Knowing he was still grouchy, would Glen give me permission to try another Halloween Party in 1981?  The answer was no.  He was still mad.  The moment I brought up the subject of another Halloween Party, Glen lit into me big-time.  For a good ten minutes Glen raked me over the coalsHe made me beg, crawl, and plead before he finally relented.  However, Glen was not done.  With a giant frown, he laid down the law.

"If you screw up again, you might as well look for a new place to call home."

I heard Glen loud and clear.  I think he meant it.  I had planned to bring up the subject of hiring his dance company for my party.  However, Glen was so grouchy I decided to take Victoria's advice and not say a word.  I left quietly.  Party yes, Dance performance, no.

 
 

Monday, OCTOBER 26, 1981

VICTORIA LEAVES ME HANGING
 

 

 

The arrival of October put me in a bad mood.  October marked the start of the 18th year of my Epic Losing Streak.  I was upset about a lot of things.  I was upset that Victoria had not set me free.  I was upset there was no end in sight. I was upset at being forced to tell Jann to back off.  I was upset that my decision to remain Victoria's fake boyfriend kept me from responding to hints dropped by the pretty girls I danced with.

With great regret I observed the two year anniversary of Doorstep Night.  Allowing Victoria through my door had turned into the worst mistake I ever made.  I had spent all of 1980 and 1981 waiting on the sidelines while Victoria vacillated between me and Michael.  As Jann pointed out, it was ridiculous to allow Victoria to keep me around as her fall-back boyfriend in case her ex-husband Michael rejected her overtures to reunite.  Ridiculous, yes, but also necessary.  When I told Jann that Victoria could easily flip out if she discovered any indiscretion, I was serious.  Part of my reluctance to make a move was related to how close Victoria was to persuading Michael to take her back.  Trust me, this reconciliation was no Yellow Brick Road.  Michael was understandably very wary.  It was stop and go, three steps forward, two steps back. 

Victoria and I had spent 1981 slowly drifting apart.  Things changed when Victoria's beloved therapist Charlotte passed away late in the summer.  With Charlotte deceased, I was suddenly important again as her only sounding board.  I was willing to accept the responsibility, but wondered if it was a hopeless task.  

When things were going good with Michael, I did not exist.  However, with every setback, Victoria wasted no time coming to me for solace.  Invariably she would drop hints that maybe I was the right guy for her after all.  Appalled at the mere suggestion, I would shake my head and gently remind her we had been through this before.  Then I would swiftly redirect her focus to Michael and gently nudge Victoria back in his direction.  Afterwards I would be full of despair because I knew the slightest wrong move on my part could unravel everything. 

 

In the past even the slightest hint I was considering leaving had thrown Victoria totally off kilter.  I know this is a strange thing to say, but as long as Victoria had me as her backup option, she found the courage to continue the fragile peace process with her skeptical ex-husband.  For this reason alone, I stuck to my guns and remained faithful.  But that did not mean I was happy about this endless waiting game.  Nor did it help that Jann resented being asked to wait.  I was very frustrated.

So how was the Reconciliation coming?  I was glad Victoria had made up her mind to reconnect with her former husband.  However she was facing a monumental task.  Persuading Michael to forgive her had proven very difficult.  Progress was maddeningly slow.  Knowing full well those scars and badly bruised feelings presented a formidable obstacle, Victoria's courage was very fragile.  As I have made clear, Victoria could be very insecure.  For example, any time Michael exclaimed, "How the hell do I know you won't go running back to Rick again?" or "How do I know you won't betray me again with someone else?", Victoria was mortified.  Every rebuff was magnified in her mind.  So it was up to me to calm her down, remind her that Michael was just as scared of getting hurt as she was, then persuade her to try again.

But what about me?  When would my Limbo Captivity end??  Please forgive my lack of modesty, but my year of success had turned me into a hot ticket.  Temptation was everywhere.  Jann had the inside track, but there were twenty other women who would say yes if I asked them out.  The crazy thing is that my celibacy was completely voluntary.  I could have walked away from Victoria anytime I wanted, but the success of her Reconciliation meant more to me than my longing for a new girlfriend.  And what if she failed?  What would happen if Michael slammed the door shut?  That was my worst nightmare.  I was certain to be reactivated as Victoria's Numero Uno Boyfriend, in which case the Epic Losing Streak was sure to continue deep into 1982.  Or maybe forever.

That said, I believed Victoria would succeed.  Historically, whatever Victoria wanted, Victoria got.  When Victoria was on her game, she was tough to resist.  Just ask me.  Although I occasionally had my doubts, for the most part I believed a reunion with Michael was in the cards.  But when??  Fearful of upsetting the applecart, so far I had managed to behave myself.  However I didn't know how much longer I could hold out.  Right now my loneliness was killing me.  There was only minimal progress on Victoria's Reunion Tour and the whole thing could blow up at any moment.  Victoria was trying to rebuild trust with Michael, but the damage was so great there were inevitable ups and downs.  I imagine both of them were terrified of getting hurt again, so understandably they were taking things slow.  Or maybe I should say 'snail's pace'.  At the rate they were going, I might be too old to reproduce by the time they got it right.

Since I had absolutely nothing better to do, I concentrated on preparing for my fourth annual Halloween Party.  Since last year's party had been a fiasco, this year I had to do better or I might never get another chance.  I wasn't worried.  Why not?  Because Victoria, the master party planner, had promised me to help me do better.  However I was in for a nasty surprise.   Three days before the party, the phone rang.  It was Victoria.

"Rick, please don't be upset with me, but I won't be at the party this year."

I gasped.  A million thoughts raced through my mind.  Was this a good omen or a bad omen?

"What's wrong?" I asked.  "Is this about Michael?"

"How did you guess?" she answered.

"Victoria, you love Halloween as much as I do.  If it is Michael you are worried about, bring him with you to the party, I won't mind."

"No way.  There are too many hard feelings for that to work and you know it.  I really want to be at this party, but I think all the progress I have made with Michael would be lost forever.  Too many times in the past I have chosen the studio and you over Michael and I can't take any more chances.  I hope you understand."

 

Holy Smokes!  At first I gulped at the thought of supervising this big party by myself.  But then I steeled myself.  Oh well, no matter.  I shrugged and told myself I could handle it on my own.  Even better, maybe I could have some fun for a change. 

"Yes, Victoria, of course I understand, but it will be strange running the party on my own.  After all, you were instrumental in organizing our first three Halloween parties."

"You're right, the Halloween Party is my baby.  It breaks my heart to skip this one, but Michael would go ballistic if I didn't stay with him.  I can't risk antagonizing him at this stage.  He wants to go to some boring party with his hospital friends and I said I would go.  Oh boy, lots of doctors with fake blood smeared on their scrubs.  How imaginative.  On second thought, knowing Michael's friends, the blood might be real.  Yuck."

I smiled hopefully.  Does this mean I have my freedom back?  I immediately thought of Bob Job.  He had guaranteed his 'Strange Brew' would liven things up, but so far I had said no because Victoria vetoed it.  However, now that I could do things my own way, I might just give Bob a call.  At that exact moment, Victoria read my mind.

"By the way, Richard Archer, I am counting on you to behave.  Don't you dare let Bob get everyone drunk.  And I expect you to honor our understanding.  Don't you dare touch another woman!  I cannot bear the stress of dealing with any more problems than I have already.  Do I have your word?"

Damn her!  I hesitated.  Do I break free or do I reassure her?  Crossing my fingers for King's X, I replied, "Don't worry, Victoria, I will be on my best behavior."

Like hell I would. 

 
 


TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1981

LINING UP THE ENTERTAINMENT
 

 

I was deliriously happy as I drove to Dance Arts for my private lesson on Tuesday morning.  Why?  Yesterday afternoon Victoria had informed me of her decision to skip this year's party.  Although I felt some unexpected twinges of sadness, I was completely okay with Victoria's decision.  I would miss her, but Victoria's decision was quite possibly the long-awaited light at the end of the tunnel. 

The shackles had been removed.  When the cat's away, the mice will play.  Since Victoria was no longer around to veto my ideas, Glen's dance company and Bob's Strange Brew were back in play.  Hey, I didn't need Victoria.  I knew what I was doing.  So far this year every decision I had made had worked to perfection.  Why stop now? 

The moment I saw Glen, I brought up his dance company again.

"Hey, Glen, I have an idea.  Why don't you let me hire your dance company to perform at the Halloween Party?" 

 

Keep in mind, the party was only four days away.  For this reason, Glen hesitated.  He thought about it for a while, then nodded. 

"Okay, let's give it try.  You will need to pay them of course.  They could use the money."  

Glen named a price and I acquiesced.  Then he explained why he had hesitated.   

"I wish you had asked me sooner.  I'm not sure who's available on short notice.  However, I like your idea.  I think I can make this work.  What time do you want them on Saturday?"

"10:30 would be good.  That's the halfway mark."

"I cannot promise you anything until I talk to the company tonight.  First I will have to see who is interested.  Stick around after your classes tonight.  At rehearsal I will ask my dancers who can free up their Saturday evening for a 15 minute performance.  Most of my dancers are starving artists, so I imagine I can get some volunteers."

After speaking to his company later that night, Glen tracked me down in the hallway.

"Good news.  Six of my dancers agreed to perform, one man and five women."  

"I was hoping you would perform as well."

"I would like to, but unfortunately I have another engagement that night.  Look for the team to arrive around 10:30 to 10:45 pm.  Don't worry, they'll show up.  My dancers are pros.  You can count on them to put on a good show."

"Will they do the two 'Jungle Fever' numbers you have been rehearsing?"

"Yes.  They can definitely use the practice."

Wow!  Jungle Fever!  I licked my lips in anticipation.  'Jungle Fever' was not only exotic, it was borderline lurid.  I was excited.  I had seen the company rehearse, but never in costume.  This would be my chance to see these pretty girls dance in their revealing costumes.  I fully expected the performance would bring down the house.  And so it did! 

But not quite the way I expected. 

 
 

STRANGE BREW

 

When I got home after seeing Glen, my next phone call went to the Mad Scientist. 

"Hey, Bob, do you remember saying you have a great idea on how to improve this year's Halloween party?  Are you still willing to help?"

Bob replied, "Yes, of course.  But I thought you said Victoria was against it."

"Don't worry about Victoria.  She decided not to come, so we can do things my way."

"Are you serious?  Victoria removed her tether?  Tell me more!"

I explained Victoria's decision, then told him about Glen's dance company.  Bob was instantly on board.

"My strange brew will definitely liven things up.  I will prove to you and everyone else that I am the master chemist.  Thanks to my amazing ability to add the right ingredients in the correct ratio to the punch, my immense skill will make this the best party you have ever thrown."

 
All right!  Bob was singing my song!  Caught up in his enthusiasm, I was convinced this was a great idea.  With little thought to the consequences, I gave him carte blanche to go about his mission.  And so my Death Warrant was sealed.

There is an old saying I am quite fond of. 

"Experience is a comb Life throws you after you have lost your hair."

If you thought Dance Wax was the dumbest thing I ever did, just wait.  Little did I know, but I had just made two grave mistakes, Jungle Fever and Strange Brew.

Why do they call them 'Grave Mistakes'?  Two of the four nails were ready at the corners of my coffin.   The third and fourth nails, the ones that would put me in my grave, would be hammered in at the party. 

Get ready for the Halloween Party from Hell.

 

 

 


THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE:  JUNGLE FEVER

 

 

previous chapter

 

 
SSQQ Front Page Parties/Calendar Jokes
SSQQ Information Schedule of Classes Writeups
SSQQ Archive Newsletter History of SSQQ