In a world divided by prejudice, politics, intolerance, and greed, the Shitennou stand as bastions of indomitable humanity. They set the example for us to follow be we democrats, republicans, communists, religious, non-believers, or any class or denomination. They are not hindered by the barriers of race, gender, or creed, and know that each person on the planet is their responsibility by their ancient, sacred charge.
Adins Presents
"My Four Kings"
Today's Episode: Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
Jadeite was busy laying out frozen fish sticks in geometric patterns on a baking sheet when Nephrite loudly marched through the door and threw his muddy boots across the room where they struck the wall, knocked the spice rack down, and fell into the kitchen sink. Jadeite largely ignored the disturbance, softly humming as he made a trapezoid out of frozen, three-inch chunks of processed cod.
"I hate my fucking job." Nephrite cussed as he rooted through the refrigerator and snapped a can of Miller High Life off the six-pack ring.
"I never would have guessed." Jadeite mouthed as his eyes rolled in the direction of Nephrite's boots where they lay soaking with the dirty dishes.
"As a construction foreman I am supposed to have absolute control over any given job site. My word is law." Nephrite explained as he threw his weary body into a kitchen chair and rested his beer on his gut, "And yet every single fucking day I get completely side-walled by suits who want to micromanage everything."
"So explain it to your boss." Jadeite offered automatically, not really listening to Nephrite's complaints.
"A man doesn't bitch to his boss just because the job takes more than a cup of coffee and a nut-rub." Nephrite explained as eloquently as a bulldozer, "This isn't like your job where you can just run to an HR department and have somebody canned because they said your hair looked nice today."
"I've never done that," Jadeite was quick to defend as absentmindedly grabbed at his hair, "And I'll thank you that my job is perfectly challenging and just as stressful as yours."
"Please… you manage an office supply store." Nephrite dismissed the comment as he chugged on his beer, "How hard can that be? Make a few schedules, send some e-mails, talk to some customers and yell at the punk high school kids who always show up late for their shifts. Your job is a fucking picnic compared to mine."
"That's not true!" Jadeite whined as he continued his fish stick task, "It's very detail-oriented. I have to keep a handle on all the sales figures, inventory, payroll and all that stuff! And, and, I have two assistant managers to train and develop as well."
"If by "train and develop" you mean "coddle and jerk off"." Nephrite countered.
The elder Shitennou finished his beer in one gulp, crushed the can in his hand, and slammed it down on the kitchen table. The whole table jumped, along with Jadeite's tray of fish sticks and all of his carefully laid geometric shapes became an incomprehensible jumble of scattered seafood. To cap off his triumph, Nephrite belched loudly, shaking liquor bottles stacked on top of the refrigerator.
"You're a jackass." Jadeite said without looking up from his mess and he immediately began rebuilding his shapes.
"Yeah." he admitted and grabbed a second can of High Life out of the fridge without getting out of his chair, "Hey, aren't you home kind of early? I usually beat you."
"I uh … took half a day." Jadeite stuttered, "There wasn't much to do."
"Uh-huh." Nephrite mumbled with a slurp, unconvinced, "You know I heard with this recession your company's stock is taking a pretty sharp tumble."
"I'm not getting laid off if that's where you're going with this." Jadeite assured him.
"No, but you're taking a look into the future." Nephrite continued, "Stock options ain't worth shit when your business is in the tank. Your 401-K is probably hurting and lord knows the office supply game ain't the "in" thing these days. You're looking for a way out."
"That's ridiculous. There's absolutely nothing wrong with my job."
"Right, right." Nephrite patronized, "That's why I've seen CareerLink in your Internet history like a dozen times a day."
Jadeite stopped dead in his preparations looking as though he were ready to either burst into tears or throttle Nephrite to the ground, "You were … you looked at my laptop?"
"I just seize opportunities." Nephrite defended himself, "You usually leave yourself logged into your porn sites."
"You violated my privacy!" Jadeite seethed on the edge of a breakdown. One thing he hated more than any other was when people knew more about him than he wanted them to know.
"Calm down before you have a seizure." Nephrite ordered.
"I should break your fucking hands." Jadeite threatened as he clenched and unclenched his fists around a frozen fish stick.
"You know I'd just beat you silly." Nephrite reminded him, "And you can't impress anyone at a job interview with a broken face."
"Just stay out of my shit, you asshole." Jadeite commanded, "I don't go rifling through all your personal things."
"Hey, what's this?" Nephrite asked, completely ignoring his partner's request and he reached for a manila folder conspicuously hidden under a pile of Jadeite's mail.
"Give me that, you fucking ASS!" Jadeite hollered as he practically leaped across the table, overturning his tray of fish sticks again. Nephrite managed to keep the folder out of his hands.
"Oh, look at this!" he announced as he opened the folder and pulled several identical printed sheets of paper out, "What have we here? It's Jadeite's résumé!"
"Give it back!" Jadeite shouted, jumping for the envelope like an elementary school boy on the receiving end of a game of keep-away.
"Let's see what fake name you came up with." Nephrite teased as he read the top line. His expression soured and he shook his head in a disappointed manner. "Jay … Dight? Jesus, dude."
"Screw you. Who cares what my name is?" Jadeite said and managed to snatch the folder back now that Nephrite wasn't trying to keep it away anymore, "Its fucking bullshit that we even have to come up with these asinine fake names."
"Granted, people don't usually name their kids after semiprecious stones, but did you ever try being creative with it?" Nephrite asked, still in shock at his companion's choice of a semi-modern name.
"Yeah. Then I realized I don't care." Jadeite challenged him. "Are you seriously okay with everyone you meet calling you Nick? That has to piss you off to no end."
"This isn't about me." Nephrite reminded him, "It's about you and your complete lack of imagination."
"Fine, fuckwad." Jadeite threw up his hands in defeat, "Come up with a better one."
"Jason Chesterfield." Nephrite said immediately.
Jadeite blinked a few times and said, "Another one."
"Jared McClure."
"Does my fake name necessarily have to start with a J?" Jadeite asked, hoping to trip Nephrite up.
"No, how about Dennis?"
Jadeite shook his head with a disgusted sneer, "Fuck that. Dennis is a sissy name."
"Dennis Hopper might disagree with you." Nephrite warned.
"I was thinking more along the lines of Jack." Jadeite stated proudly.
"No. No fucking way you're cool enough to be Jack." Nephrite disagreed, "And I thought you said you didn't want a J in your name."
"I was just keeping my options open!" Jadeite defended, "And I am too cool enough to be Jack!"
"You would have to buck up to the responsibility of a name like Jack." Nephrite said, "Jack Nicholson alone would kick your ass if you did his name poor justice, to say nothing of Jack Palance."
"Jack Palance is dead." Jadeite recalled
"Doesn't matter." Nephrite replied, "How about Peter?"
"No!" Jadeite immediately shouted, "Then everyone would immediately jump on the phallic reference! I am not a Peter!"
"How about Dick?" Nephrite asked with a sophomoric smirk.
Before Jadeite could answer the door swung open again and Zoisite pranced into the kitchen. His hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and he was carrying an over-stuffed duffel bag on one shoulder. He was wearing some manner of bright, expensive-looking sneakers, ungodly short black spandex running shorts, and a Jaegermeister t-shirt that looked to be from the mid 1980's. He let the bag slide off his shoulder and immediately began to flex in the hallway mirror.
"Christ almighty…" he complained, "The only way I'm ever going to get any definition is if someone throws a dictionary at me."
"Zoisite, you've been working out for a grand total of three days." Nephrite reminded him, "You can't expect results this soon."
"Well pardon me for trying to stay in shape." Zoisite huffed back, "Maybe I don't want to become a broken-down, alcoholic geriatric with such terrible osteoporosis that he can't lift the beer that's slowly killing him without possibly breaking my wrist."
"My bones are fine. I drink plenty of milk." Nephrite said proudly.
"Whatever." Zoisite said and lugged his gym bag into the room.
"Zoisite, how are you paying for your gym membership?" Jadeite asked out of the blue, "You still don't have a job; your savings have to be stretched pretty thin."
"He probably blows the manager daily." Nephrite assumed, grabbing yet another can of beer out of the refrigerator.
"Yeah, that's definitely it." Zoisite said and rolled his eyes heavily. "You know, the last thing I need when I come home is to listen to your mouth, Nephrite."
"Sorry, we live together." Nephrite shrugged. "Kind of comes with the territory."
"Well maybe I should move the fuck out, which would solve a lot of my problems." Zoisite complained petulantly.
"Door's right behind you." Nephrite pointed out without regret.
Zoisite ignored him and dragged his gym bag across the floor towards the living room. He made an inaudible yet decidedly derisive comment about Jadeite's fish stick sculpturing. He glanced at the overflowing sink and immediately his spirits faltered yet another notch.
"Why is there a pair of boots in the sink?" he asked bleakly.
"They're dirty. Also, it's your turn to do the dishes." Nephrite said with a sly smirk, "Clean my boots, bitch."
Zoisite looked to be on the edge of a full-on nervous breakdown. His eyes were rattling in their sockets torn between a scowl and the desire to dive into incessant, childish bawling. Thankfully the situation was saved from escalation by the arrival of Kunzite. As usual he was dressed very well in an expensive gray suit, the jacket of which was slung over his arm. He tossed his briefcase aside, shut the door behind him, and grabbed the last can of beer from the fridge.
"You took the last beer." Nephrite announced.
"Fuck you." Kunzite returned, "You drink more than all three of us and our neighbors put together. I'm not buying."
"I bought last time." Jadeite reminded them as he shoved is tray of mathematically-precise fish sticks into the oven.
"I don't drink that shit anymore with my new diet and exercise routine." Zoisite said proudly, fishing for compliments.
"So today I discovered that thanks to budget cuts and layoffs my vacation time is getting halved." Kunzite told his cohorts, completely ignoring Zoisite's comment and changing the subject to suit his needs in one fell swoop, "I'm down to two weeks and I'm pretty sure they're thinking about dropping my dental coverage."
"Dental coverage?" Jadeite asked, surprised.
"Lips." Nephrite said dryly.
"Fucking hilarious." Jadeite said swiftly and then refocused on Kunzite, "I don't even get dental and I've been working for that place for years!"
Nephrite added his thoughts to the mix: "I have basic life and health. I don't need anything else."
"Until all the alcohol you consume begins to make you go blind." Kunzite said, "Basic health and life doesn't cover glasses, contacts, eye drops, and all that."
"Or maybe your ears will start to go since you listen to all that crushingly loud classic rock through your headphones when you sit at your computer." Jadeite added.
"My body is built to withstand all abuses." Nephrite said and pounded his chest à la Tarzan.
From there the conversation swiftly deteriorated into name-calling and mud-slinging, but at the end there was silence. Jadeite's egg timer went off and he pulled the fish sticks from the oven and everyone began absentmindedly eating them off the scalding hot tray. Kunzite lifted his head from the table and glanced at his forlorn companions.
"Our lives suck." He said.
"You're telling me." Zoisite was the first to agree.
The others largely ignored him, but Kunzite struck up a hopeful tone: "Why don't we all just quit our jobs and start a business of our own?"
"Because that would be the most reckless and expensive thing we'd ever done." Jadeite said as though he were speaking from experience.
"Come on, think about it!" Kunzite pleaded, "No bosses, no schedules."
"No job security." Jadeite muttered.
"No need to use a fake name." Kunzite leaned in and whispered knowingly. Jadeite's brow twitched.
He continued, "We'd be in complete control of our lives! I think the four of us with all of our talents deserve to be the masters of our own fate!"
"What kind of business would we even open?" Zoisite asked as he twirled a fish stick in a heaping sludge pile of ketchup, "Provided any of us made enough money to even think about investing in a new business."
"Liquor store." Nephrite suggested as he gulped down a shot of Jim Beam.
"How about a restaurant?" Jadeite gleefully intoned as he held aloft one of the fish sticks that he thawed and baked all by himself.
"Jesus, that's it!" Kunzite exclaimed and had to restrain himself from leaping from his chair, "That's fucking it!"
"A restaurant? Are you nuts?" Nephrite asked, "Jadeite can barely operate the toaster."
"No, not that!" Kunzite corrected, "Liquor plus food. What does that equal?"
"A restaurant?" Jadeite asked obliviously.
Everyone glanced at Nephrite who generally had all the answers where liquor was concerned. This time, however, he just shook his head and looked as dumbfounded as the rest of the group.
"Nobody just goes to restaurants anymore, they all have gimmicks!" Kunzite explained, "We need to cash in on the craze."
"Spit it out!" Jadeite said, rocking in his chair like an excited six year old.
"We need to open a bar and grill!" Kunzite proudly finished, "A place with a full bar, steak on the menu, and lots of zany shit all over the walls. Hardwood floors, a fireplace, maybe a karaoke stage, it'd be perfect!"
"So you want to rip off, let's see …" Nephrite began and started counting off ticks on his fingers, "TGI Friday's, Applebee's, Chili's, UNO, Ruby Tuesday, and Bennigans?"
"No, this place would be different!" Kunzite continued more excited than usual which was a dangerous sign that he would move ahead with his plans with or without help from the other three, "We would have live music all the time, the best possible food ever with insultingly large portions, more varieties of beer than anyone else. Come on, we can totally do this!"
"What would we call it?" Jadeite asked, "A restaurant is nothing without a name."
"It's a bar and grill!" Kunzite corrected, "And there is only one name we could use."
"What?" they asked him.
"We have to look to our past, back to the days when we were sworn to uphold justice and protect the innocent!" Kunzite announced and if it were possible, a flag would have flapped in the breeze behind him to the soft strains of patriotic melodies, "We must now defend those very same innocents from the tyranny of gimmicky chain restaurants! We will give our bar and grill the same name that was bestowed upon us so many eons ago!"
"Shitennou is not going to go over well." Nephrite said and burped in Kunzite's general direction, "Even you can see that. Come on, I mean shit is part of our name."
"Not Shitennou, you idiot!" Kunzite said, "We'll call it The Four Kings!"
"Sounds like a casino." Jadeite observed and was rewarded with an icy scowl, "But I'm sure it would work in the context of a bar and grill as well … heh heh heh …"
"I give you my word, The Four Kings Bar and Grill will become a reality." Kunzite promised and had he been just a tad more melodramatic he might have stooped to one knee, "I swear it."