MADOREABLE

A Wordless Threat of Kung Fu Reprisal

by P. H. Madore

Drinks were cheap this day. Many had money but everyone was cheap. Tao Lin was sitting at the bar early, having a cucumber juice with a medium-small Maine black bear. The bear was getting upset about something but seemed in control.

Nick Antosca and Jackie Corley walked down the stairs, arm in arm, singing some kind of revolutionary song. It wasn’t even eleven in the morning yet. The medium-small Maine black bear stood up and took a bow for Nick Antosca and Jackie Corley. Jackie Corley became very upset but stayed in control. The bear said, “J. K.,” which is what everyone called the bartender.

J. K. said, “Yes?”

“I would like to send a bottle of champagne to Jackie Corley and Nick Antosca to make up for my indiscretions.”

“What indiscretions? Shut up.”

The bear growled at the bartender. Tao Lin said, “Eeeee Eee Eeee.”

The bartender was scared. He said, “Top shelf, house, what?”

“Send them something very medium,” the bear said, happy.

It took the bartender ten minutes to figure out what kind of champagne should go to the corner where sat Jackie Corley and Nick Antosca. In that time Blake Butler, Jereme Dean, and Jimmy Chen walked down the stairs, bickering existentially. Tao Lin said, “We are all existentially fucked. I don’t know why I’m drinking cucumber juice. I want another.”

The bear said to the bartender, “A drink for him.”

“Yes, sir,” said J. K. He served Tao Lin, then ran across the bar floor to Jackie Corley and Nick Antosca, fumbling, and opened and poured them champagne. Jackie Corley had a lot of questions and Nick Antosca smiled and Ken Baumann materialized to say, “I live in California.”

The bartender said to Ken Baumann, “I hate you. Shut up.”

Ken Baumann struck the bartender called J. K. very hard with a dead fish he’d had wrapped in recycled chapbooks specifically for such an occasion. The bartender dropped the champagne bottle. Jackie Corley shrieked and said, “Fuck this, I’m getting back to work!” Nick Antosca smiled. Ken Baumann said, “No posit, no colony, motherfuckers!”

The medium-small Maine black bear walked over and bit the head off Ken Baumann very apologetically. Nick Antosca smiled. The bartender said, “This is stupid.” The bear ate the dead fish and began to laugh very loud. Tao Lin said, “Eeeee Eee Eeee.” Ken Baumann’s corpse turned into a ghost, left no mess. The bartender said, “This is stupid. Thanks, bear.”

The bear burped. The bear walked over to the bar where he had previously been sitting and ate peanuts for two minutes exactly. Tao Lin and the bear turned to grayscale, perfect.

Jackie Corley said to Nick Antosca, “I’m not leaving yet.” She whipped out her iPhone, checked her e-mail. She wrote forty professional articles, brilliant and original, over the course of the next five minutes. Nick Antosca smiled.

It was getting into late afternoon.

Matt DiGangi came downstairs with a lot of people. Matt DiGangi shouted at the bartender, “J. K., where the fuck is Madore?”

Andy Riverbed said, “Yes, where is Madore, we’ll get him drunk tonight!”

The bartender said, “I have banned Madore. He may show up as a pseudonym. Let me know, I’ll ban that fucker too. Madore never has anything original to say.”

Matt DiGangi shrugged agreement, said hello to Jackie Corley, and contemplated starting a brawl with Tao Lin and the medium-small Maine black bear.

Billy Joel appeared out of nowhere to play a live show. Everyone looked on. The bar filled with a lot of new people whose name tapes were not visible from where I sat, hidden in the darkest corner near the jukebox. I thought about turning the jukebox on.

Ellen Kennedy showed up. She was too young for alcohol so she asked for a cucumber juice. Tao Lin said, “You are a little bit happier than I am today.”

Ellen Kennedy was wearing a shirt that said “Anal Secks.” She didn’t say anything, she just sat down next to Tao Lin and the medium-small Maine black bear and made a very morose expression. Matt DiGangi yelled a random anti-Irish slur. No one paid any attention.

Cooper Renner walked very correctly down the stairs, entered the bar, and said clearly, so there would be no doubt: “This is too polemic.”

Bono showed up out of nowhere and said, “All of this can be yours.”

Bono disappeared. The Maine black bear was upset by this but tried not to show it.

Adam Robinson showed up with a band of Baltimore anarchists. He said, “I love everyone.”

The bartender said, “Shut up. You’re stupid. I hate you.”

The bartender hated everyone.

Jimmy Chen broke a beer bottle over Matt DiGangi’s head. The whole crew that had been sitting with Matt DiGangi, drinking of his pitcher, stood up to attack Jimmy Chen. Jimmy Chen laid down the law with a lot of kung fu tactics and kept screaming, “San Francisco! San Francisco!”

One of the Baltimore anarchists lit up a joint and played “Why Can’t We Be Friends” on the jukebox.

Tao Lin became very angry and left, hiding a bowl of peanuts under his shirt. He also shoplifted a piece of art from the wall. The medium-small Maine black bear followed him. Ellen Kennedy stayed and chatted with Jimmy Chen, Blake Butler, and Jereme Dean, all of whom said more and more lewd things to her as they became progressively more drunk on the bottle of Irish whiskey they’d brought themselves.

Cooper Renner rejected everyone for the first time. He seemed pissed about something, perhaps the death of Ken Baumann, which everyone was pretending hadn’t happened. One of the people with shoddy name tapes attacked Cooper Renner with a book of ancient poetry which was over two feet thick. Cooper Renner enlisted the support of the entire bar minus a few other people with shoddy name tapes, and the second murder of the day took place. It was a blood bath.

Cooper Renner said, “This is too polemic.” He drank deeply of his authentic Russian vodka, for which he paid only two cents a shot since he was such a regular and good member of the community.

The bartender said, “I can’t have much more of this. I hate all of you. Shut up. I’m serious. It doesn’t matter. I’ll call Tao Lin, together we will go on a killing rampage.”

Blake Butler laughed a lot.

Finally Nick Antosca did something besides smile. He stood up, stole a beer bottle from Matt DiGangi’s table, and smashed it over the head of Blake Butler. Jimmy Chen made a wordless threat of kung fu reprisal, but found himself both too deeply offended and lost in thought to do anything. He said, “You owe Matt DiGangi a beer.”

Nick Antosca smiled. Jackie Corley said, “Fuck this, I’m going back to work!” She vacated, and on her way out discovered that both Tao Lin and the medium-small Maine black bear had shit on the steps on their way out. Blake Butler, hearing this, ran up the stairs and devoured the shit. Finally he too was smiling. Jereme Dean was pissed that Blake Butler had not left him any. He posted a twitter message in complaint, rebuking Blake Butler in hopes that Blake Butler would quite writing or something.

Otherwise, it was a normal day.