ELBIE'S BAR and GRILL: THE DEBUT
There is a corner of Elbie's Bar and Grill where even some of the heartiest, most daringly creative minds have feared to tread.
A few have and gone on to greater things, but others, the number is Legion, have faded back into obscurity.
The audience is varied, from night to night and even has a steady cast of regulars.
It can be kind, it can be harsh, but it is always honest in its appraisal, of that you can be sure.
No-one can remember how many months its been since someone last ventured onto its hardwood floor, but something is about to occur that some will, someday, say heralded the dawning of a new age in the land.
The lights are dimmed and a spotlight is trained on center stage...
A dark haired figure dressed all in black approaches the microphone and, with a bow in the direction of Polo, the Bartender and to the Proprietor, sitting with her child on her lap, he quietly begins to speak...
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I am no singer or stand-up comedian, just a weaver of tales. They are stories of hopes, and dreams, and fantasies, of comedy, drama, and horror. Of what won't be, could be, or even will be. Who can tell?
My friends call me Sneakeasy, and this is my story for tonight...
It is the story of THE ZORRO OF LOVE.
Shape-shifting cousin to that prankster Cupid, but no mere shooter of arrows up peoples rear ends, while hiding behind bushes, is this being.
So, clear your mind of all clutter and listen to my tale!"
It is a lovely spring evening along the San Gabriel River Bike Trail.
Heading south is a handsome devil of a soon to be 48 year old bachelor, riding his bike and admiring the view, when from out of the bushes leaps what appears to be Mae West in a smashing black dress, cape, and mask outfit.
The figure dashes up to the man and, slashing an L across his heart with her sword, whispers seductively, "Why don't you ask her out, big boy?" and points down the trail.
Dazed, and bemused, the man gazes down the trail, then turns around, but the figure is gone...
Meanwhile, heading north along the trail is a beautiful young woman.
She could be 25 or 39, its not important.
She is pedaling absent-minded along when Rudolph Valentino, looking dashingly romantic in black with a cape and mask, leaps into her path and slashes an L across her heart with his sword.
He silently smiles and winks, then pointing down the trail with his sword, disappears from whence he came...
The two lonely riders continue on their separate ways, approaching, from opposite ends, a dark tunnel beneath a nearby highway.
A couple of seconds after disappearing into the tunnel there is a crash, and the sound of startled voices are heard, then silence.
20 minutes pass...
Zorro, standing on the highway above and looking over at the bike trail, is pleased to see a couple of disheveled bike riders, 1 male, 1 female, emerge from the tunnel below.
They are walking their bikes, and holding hands, smiling at each other as they head off into the sunset.
He just loves happy endings, or, is that promising new beginnings.
As the Storyteller ends his tale, the light on center stage fades to black, then, after 1 minute, the light comes on again to reveal an empty stage...
Continue to The Storyteller 2.