Light Millennium #15 Issue, May 2005

Flip's Hole-The return of Sandor Schnipple
Part 2

by Robert J. BAUMANN

I'd like to tell you about Flip's natural cooking style at the outset. It's a gentler way of continuing my little story. Flip made pasta on Tuesdays. It is not that he did not make this on other days, but on Tuesday his extra supply was for his lunch "special". The special item on Flip's menu included soup, salad, main dish and a choice of beverage. All things considered, Flip's spaghetti was rather good... almost as if by accident.

 A pot of boiling water was the start of the process. Flip added a generous amount [well, generous by Flip's own exacting standards, that is] of Striano's Spread. This stuff came in a huge container the size of a waste basket. Whoever Striano was, he was not fooling around. His product was obviously only for the restaurant trade. No human being would have a refrigerator big enough to store this container, but Flip did. From the way I figure it Flip had to buy this only 3 or 4 times a year and saved a bundle. It was a substitute for butter or margarine. In hardened form the stuff looked like yellow candle wax, but the flavor was quite like butter. I wondered under what conditions Striano's Spread might become hard again, but then I have become nervous about all kinds of food these days. Bottom line? Everything you enjoy will surely kill you sooner or later... even in the smallest quantities.

Flip next added the pasta, a brand that sounded Norwegian and not at all Italian. Flip did not let anyone get too close to the packages of the stuff. I suspect it was a bit ripe. I am not sure what the shelf life of pasta is, but this angel hair pasta was pretty hairy. He no sooner received it than he removed all traces of the wrapping it came in. Flip muttered something about boiling it a bit longer "freshens it right up". The only time Flip "freshened" food was when it was stale.

The finished pasta was drained of its water and a huge can of sauce [also made by Striano] was stirred in. Flip's last touch was a dollop of ricotta cheese mixed right in to preserve the secret of his flavoring additive. The end result was edible and, if it were not, would have killed off Buddy Taub years ago. For a modest extra sum, Flip would cut up a few pieces of yesterday's meat loaf and voila, spaghetti and meat balls!

Now that I think of it, killing Buddy Taub is the perfect way to begin again where I left off last issue.

Sam Schnipple had entered and sat down next to Mrs. Dechine. He made the mistake of asking what was new. I was going to have Mrs. Dechine break the news gently, but good old Buddy Taub, our resident loudmouth, beat everyone to the punch.

"He's starting a sperm bank", said Taub.

Sam had a full mouthful of coffee just as this was blurted out. He choked on half and spit out the rest.

"He what?!?", said Sam once he had recaptured enough air.

"That's right, Sam," said Mrs. Dechine. "He wants to help those poor unfortunate couples who are not able to have a child. It seemed like a very good idea given his ability. He is very, very potent and it is only natural to use the best possible sperm that would insure a pregnancy."

"You mean to tell me he is going to get paid for doing what he once did for free?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly free, was it? He did have to wine and dine the ladies he met. In his old age he's realized some of his errors, Sam and now he is trying to make amends to humanity."

"Is that what he told you? And you believe him? He was a deadbeat dad a hundred times over and more. He had as many kids as there are days in the year. We are still trying to find them all. Lord knows how many thousand Schnipples are running around who do not know their ancestry. What nerve! Now he wants to be paid for this? He's going to charge people for his sperm?"

"No, dear Sam. He's going to help couples to get pregnant."

"How?"

"Well, he did not say but I assumed it would be through counseling."

"My foot. He's going to impregnate women the old fashioned way and get paid for doing it! What a bastard!"

"Uh," chimed in Taub, "don't you think that's a poor choice of words... given the history and the subject?"

Buddy was shouted down by everyone, except Flip who stood behind the counter focused on Sam.

"So, what are you going to do about this, Sam?", asked Flip.

"Do? Do? I'll tell you what I am going to do.... I am going to call a for a family reunion, right here in New York City. I will have him in a court of law and tie him up ten ways from Tuesday. He won't be able to run that business until he pays his back child support money. Several Schnipples I know have studied law and are practicing attorneys. I will sue him for all he has, so help me God. Sandor Schnipple will pay for his years of callous behavior! I will instigate a class action lawsuit by all of his children. That's what I'll do!".

"Just be aware that the law is a strange thing," said Mo Ippai. "You don't want to wind up like the Zhlub."

"Who is the Zhlub?", asked Sam. Indeed I was wondering the same thing.

"The Zhlub was a client of Dean Kusakabe, my lawyer/brother-in-law. He told me about it a few years ago. He presented the case to the Supreme Court. Perhaps you heard of it. It made all the papers at the time." Not a head nodded in acknowledgement.

"What was the case about, Mo?", I asked.

Mo began to tell the story. I will relate all of it to you in the next installment.

_ . _

For Robert BAUMANN's blog:
http://www.xanga.com/RobertJBaumann

E-mail to Robert Baumann: rbaumann@nyc.rr.com