Saturday, July 14, 2012
The Oiliest Secret Chapter Five The Oiliest Death Match: Postmaster Koop J. VS Billy Baldwin Jr. Jr.
Postmaster General C. Everett Koop Jr., a.k.a. The Postmaster., was more than just the postmaster general. In his long illustrious career, he had also been a chess grandmaster, a ringmaster for Barnum and Baily’s Circus, a master of ceremonies at various public and private events, a karate master, a rapper known as Jam Master Koopy Doop in the rap group, The Masters, and he’d been named both Grand Bass Master and Master Baiter at the World Bass Fishing Championship in Springfield, Maryland. Pretty much anything attached to the term master had been mastered by The Postmaster. There was only one thing left for The Postmaster to master, or more correctly, to re-master, and that was his former lover, Jenna Strumpet.
But there was also someone else looking for Jenna. Billy Baldwin Jr. Jr., better known as Bi-Ju-Ju, missed her terribly. Jenna had been the only one of his former girlfriends never to act bothered by his tendency to eat exotic flowers or his constant flatulence. Whenever Jenna was around and Bi-Ju-Ju let one rip, Jenna would say something like, “Ooh. An orchid. Good one.” or “Smells like Azalea season.”
But there was one person who despised both of Bi-Ju-Ju's unusual quirks, his Great Uncle Alec. Twice Alec Baldwin had had to fire his shotgun into the air to scare Bi-Ju-Ju out of his garden. Whenever they had dinner together at Alec’s house in Malibu, and Bi-Ju-Ju accidently squeezed out an SBD, Alec became irate. “That smells like one of my prize-winning tulips. Dang it, Bi-Ju-Ju.” But it wasn’t until after Bi-Ju-Ju devoured an entire bed of Cairene purple roses, that Alec kicked him out of his guest house permanently.
Bi-Ju-Ju found himself back at his old job, working as a towel boy for the Foxy Lady's Semi-Professional Wrestling Association. His duties included toweling off the girls, fetching them water, and oiling them down for specialty events. He had always loved his job. Until he met Jenna. Now his heart just wasn’t in it. His toweling became lackluster and it showed.
“You missed a spot, Moron,” shouted Buxom Blondie, the area champion in the double D division. She swatted him on the back of the head.
Bi-Ju-Ju nodded absently and held up her spit bucket.
“Yeah, Moron. You missed a spot.”
Billy recognized the man’s voice shouting across the gym, but it wasn’t until The Postmaster had taken the place of Buxom Blondie that Bi-Ju-Ju was able to remember where they'd met before.
“Hey! You’re Jam Master Koopy Doop. You were the deejay at my friend Harry’s bar mitzvah.”
“We also met at the post office,” Postmaster Koop J roared. “When you stole the woman I loved. Now stop toweling me!”
“Sorry. Force of habit.” Bi-Ju-Ju lifted himself off of his three-legged stool and threw his sweat towel over his shoulder. “So, what brings you to the gym?”
“I’m here to take back what belongs to me--Jenna Strumpet.”
Hearing the name of his lost lover restored the fire in Bi-Ju-Ju’s belly. Either that or some bad gas was coming on. “Jenna belongs to no man,” he said to cover up the other sound he was making. "And the only thing your taking is a butt whipping. From me!"
The Postmaster sniffed the air. "Is that a purple rose I smell?”
The battle lines were drawn. Both men oiled themselves up and then entered the ring. A crowd of foxy wrestlers lined the ropes. Most cheered Bi-Ju-Ju on—all but the seven or eight with sexual harassment suits pending against him.
To prepare himself for battle, Karate Master Koop J. turned to the ancient art of Jujitsu, while Bi-Ju-Ju employed Miyagi-do karate.
The Postmaster entered the ring on his back, crab style, thwarting Bi-Ju-Ju’s hopes of winning a swift victory with a single “crane” kick. After taking several blows to the shin, Bi-Ju-Ju was able to adapt. He “waxed off” several more kicks until the sound of the bell marked the end of the first round.
In the second round, Koop J. entered the ring on his feet. He pounded Bi-Ju-Ju with a series of body blows that left Bi-Ju-Ju stunned. The Koop Master continued to pound around the midsection while Bi-Ju-Ju tried in vain to remember the special move employed by Ralph Macchio in The Karate Kid part II. Without that move, he was helpless. The Postmaster bounced him around the ring. Then Billy heard a voice.
“Bi-Ju-Ju, tag.” Billy wobbled on his feet. He peered through the sweat and blood running into his eyes, trying to see who had called out to him.
“Is that you, Jenna?” he asked punch-drunkenly. He could see her so clearly in his mind. She was reaching out to him. He touched her hand.
“No one messes with my towel boy,” Buxom Blondie roared. She somersaulted into the ring. Landing on her hands, her legs twisted around The Postmaster’s neck.
“Wait a second. You’re not allowed to tag out,” The Postmaster started to say, but Buxom Blondie strangled the words out of him. It was no contest. There was a good reason Blondie was area champion. She caught The Postmaster with a drop kick, a scissor kick, a spinning heel kick, and then a wicked drop-the-scissors-on-your-spinning-heel-kick. Next, she moved into the nelsons. First a half-nelson. Then a full-nelson. Then a one and a half nelson, followed by a two-and-a-quarter-nelson. Then she just started beating the crap out of him. The Postmaster fell face down on the mat.
Bi-Ju-Ju jumped back into the ring. He threw up his arms and celebrated his victory. He tried to give Buxom Blondie a celebratory kiss but she dropped him with a vicious bicycle kick. He too dropped to the floor like a flabby pile of tube steak.
It took several hours for the men to regain consciousness. By then, they were alone in the gym. They struggled to their feet. “I guess the best man won,” The Postmaster said. Billy nodded.
“So where is Jenna?” he asked.
“I thought she was with you.”
It was only then that both men realized that Jenna was missing, and it was then that both men decided to team up. Jenna was out there somewhere, and they would never know which man she preferred until they found her.
“Bring the oil,” The Postmaster commanded. “We may need it.”
Billy nodded. He grabbed a ten gallon jug, and lugged it out the door. Both men were pretty oily already, but things were about to get ever oilier.