Elaine was playing hooky from work (J. Peterman's) with a couple of old high school chums, Barb and Tara, in for a brief shopping jaunt from Long Island. They had just walked out of the Loews Lincoln Square Theater on Broadway. Elaine was holding a very BIG SODA that she had purchased from a nearby refreshment stand of her choosing. Elaine being the thrifty gal she was, refused to dispense of the cool bubbly liquid of Pepsi, not Coke. For Elaine did not anticipate on that blustery summer day what chance event was in store for her, because of her blatant refusal to discard the flavorsome beverage…
"Hey, isn't that Brad Lester? Elaine enquired of her two friends.
Brad Lester was standing alone on line; a handsome, rugged man, finely dressed, a successful haberdasher by trade.
"Yeah, I think so." Barb replied as she squinted to see his visage.
"Didn't he break up with Debbie Bishop last week?" Tara asked with a salacious smile.
"No, it was Debbie Taylor. Phil Drake broke up with Debbie Bishop." Barb informed her lascivious friend.
"I'll see you married ladies later." Elaine noted with devilish grin before crossing the expansive lobby to where Brad was positioned in line.
"Brad?" Elaine uttered as if she had just blundered onto a stockpile of uranium 235.
"Elaine, Elaine Benes." Brad said enthusiastically. "Wow, how long has it been?"
"Too long…so how's Debbie?" Elaine asked smiling.
"We broke up. I hope I don't sound glib, but things just got kind of…weird." Brad laughed suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
"God, I hate when things get weeeiiird. I mean, why do things have to get weird? We're all adults here. Things never get weird for me, no how, no way." Elaine said with a nervous laugh.
"You know, we should really get together for a drink sometime." Brad said.
"That would be great."
"Can I get your number?
"Sure. You can call me at my office. Maybe we could do something after work tonight." Elaine digs in her purse…
"If I can just find a card…"
"Elaine, the line is starting to move." Brad said with mixed trepidation.
"Yep, just a second…because I--" While trying to obtain the correct amount of leverage for digging in her purse, Elaine swung her big soda out, inadvertently smacking some guy in a wheelchair square in the noggin, causing his monocle to fly haphazardly across the lobby and right into a revolving door, where it was summarily stepped on and crushed by a rotund lad fresh off a bus from Westchester!
"Oh, I'm sorry." Elaine said still trying to find a card in her purse.
"Lady, you should really watch what the heck you're doing. You just knocked out my monocle! Now my vision is completely out of whack!"
As an obvious confrontation was about to take place, Brad took the moment to slip into the theater.
"Brad? I got a card…" Elaine said looking up.
"Lady, forget about your damn card. What about my damn monocle?"
"It was an accident -- I'm sorry." Elaine said with that look of dismay she gets when she knows she's done something horribly stupid.
"You're lucky I don't call the police for assault." The guy in the wheelchair grabs Elaine's soda "Give me that…"and holds it up to his head.
"You see this, now I got a frickin' huge bump on my head and I've got a presentation in an hour. Thanks a lot!"
"Look, I said I was sorry...it was the big soda." Elaine said sheepishly.
"Now I'll probably miss my meeting." The guy in the wheelchair said.
"Well, is there anything I can do?" Elaine asked.
"Yeah, push me to a bus stop so I can get to my stupid meeting with my stupid jerk clients."
"Sure, I can do that."
"57th Street."
"That's 10 blocks."
"Do you realize, because of your stupid clumsiness, I'm basically blind now?"
The guy in the wheelchair took a sip of Elaine's big soda,
"Gross! It's diet! I hate diet!"
At that moment in Jerry's apartment, Jerry was reading the Post. George entered.
"What's that smell?" Jerry immediately asked.
"You can smell it? Oh, great! Steinbrenner had the entire stadium fumigated today."
"Fumigated for what?" Jerry said with a laugh.
"Fumigated for termites. He thinks they've been secretly hiding in the bats."
"Well didn't anyone warn you that they were fumigating today? Wasn't there a memo?"
"No, no memo, no one told me! I didn't find out until I practically passed in my office from lethal intoxication."
"Well, you want to take a shower? Burn your clothes maybe?" Jerry said holding his nose as he crossed to the window to open it.
"The exterminators said the smell would wear off in about an hour."
"What did they say about being poisoned?"
"I don't know…" George suddenly looked worried. "I had trouble hearing them through their gas mask."
Kramer entered the apartment.
"You ready to go, dude?" Kramer asked Jerry.
"Oh, I can't. Shelly's stopping by. Maybe George can go with you instead."
"Go where?" George asked.
"Belmont, and three surefire wins."
"You don't mind the smell?" George asked.
Kramer took a sniff of George.
"Hoochie-mamma! We'll take your car."
On the counter was a parcel post package.
"You still haven't opened Shelly's gift yet?"
George grabbed the package shaking it.
"Do you mind? How do you know it isn't glass?" Jerry shouted.
"Let me see it." Kramer said taking the package from George and shaking it himself.
"Yeah, it's not glass."
Jerry grabbed the package away from Kramer.
"Give me that…couple of morons here."
"Who is this Shelly anyway?" Kramer asked.
"Shelly is this cocktail waitress at Caroline's. I asked her out a couple of weeks ago, but we couldn't get together, she went away on this extended family vacation to Bora-Bora.
"Ah, a tropical island paradise. One of the Leeward Islands of French Polynesia, it was used as a U.S. air base in World War II." Kramer said with surprising knowledge.
"You're really getting your money's worth with those encyclopedias, huh?"
"You know it, buddy. So what's the package for?"
"I don't know. Something she sent me while she was away. She said it reminded her of my act or something."
"Why don't you open it?" George said with a curious smile.
"Okay, I'll open it." Jerry got the scissors and cut the yarn around the package within seconds it was open and he was reaching into the brown box full of foam popcorn.
Jerry pulled out the item, a large wood statue of a Polynesian warrior.
"It's a statue." Jerry said with amusement setting it on the counter.
Immediately something odd struck them about the souvenir, particularly the sizable genitals of the aboriginal.
Kramer and George mouths dropped in disbelief.
"Oh – my – god." Was all that Jerry could utter.
"It's like he's got a third leg." Kramer noted.
"And Shelly said that this reminds her of your act?" George said surprised.
"Well, your act must be very lengthy." Kramer remarked.
"Do you think it's – anatomically correct?" Jerry asked.
"Oh yeah, that puppy's on right."
George and Jerry both give Kramer a look.
"Maybe there's a mistake, a package screw-up or something." George offered.
"I don't think so, George...There's a note in the box.
To Jerry, Your Favorite Cocktail Waitress, Shelly. EEEWWWWWWWWW!"
Jerry ran to the bathroom sink furiously washing his hands.
"Kinky." Kramer commented.
"What are you going do with it?" George asked, strangly transfixed by the native art piece, or more ac curatley, native's piece.
"I don't know. I don't even want to look at it. Who knows where that thing has been?" Jerry shouted from the bathroom.
"Jerry, come on, this is a wonderful work of tribal art. What are you getting so freaked out about?" Kramer pleaded.
"Well, if you like it so much, Kramer, then you keep it. I don't want anything to do with one-eyed wonder Willy over there."
"You know, a statue like this is considered a great symbol among the tribe, as both a token of male virility and female fertility. The tribal elders would put these statues in front of newlywed's hut in order to arouse the libidinal energy flow."
"Kind of like ancient Viagra." George quipped and then said: "What if Shelly comes back here? You can't tell her you threw it out or gave it to Kramer."
"You're right. But what the hell am I going to do with it?"
"Why don't you put it somewhere slightly out of eyesight for now, and when Shelly comes over, just explain you haven't quite found the right place for it yet. After a few weeks, if you're still dating, explain that your apartment was broke into and few things were taken, including the statue."
"Tell her they 'stole the statue'?" Jerry repeated sarcastically. "Who am I getting robbed by The Three Stooges?"
"Tell her the cops said the thieves thought it might have been worth something of value."
"I don't know…" Jerry said with reluctance.
"Look all I can do is come up with the ideas you've got a sell them." George stated.
"Let's go, George, I smell victory at Belmont."
"As long as I don't step in it." George cracked.
Kramer and George exited.
In order to move the lewd object, Jerry knew he would need to pick it up. Suddenly, an idea dawned upon him, grabbing a pair of oven mitts from the kitchen drawer he was able to lift salacious item with little to no anxiety. He found a snug area on the back of the bookshelf behind a fern.
Meanwhile…at the bus stop on 57th Street, Elaine and the guy in the wheelchair were awaiting a Metro bus.
"Here comes a bus." Elaine said wearily.
"Tell the driver that I need the lift." The guy in the wheelchair requested.
Elaine approached the bus driver.
"Excuse me we need the lift back here."
"The lift is broken." The driver said without looking at her.
"What?" Elaine questioned.
"The wheelchair lift is broken, as in it doesn't work."
Elaine walked back to the guy in the wheelchair.
"The drive said the lift is broken. Look I really have to get back to--"
"The lift isn't broken. If the lift was broken, the bus wouldn't be running. Look, just push me over to 58th street, there's tons of cabs over there. You can handle getting me a cab, right?"
"No reason to get snotty about it!" Elaine said pushing him as her patience ran thinner than air.
Back at Jerry's…Shelly had finally arrived. Maybe Jerry would finally unlock the mystery of the statue…
"Shelly!" Jerry said with a bright toothy smile.
"Jerry!" Shelly said with equal exuberance. Shelly was pretty, Jerry thought she looked a bit like Delores.
"So, how was your trip to Bora Bora?" Jerry asked as they moved into his apartment.
"Oh, it was great. Just what the doctor ordered. Did you get that gift I sent you?"
"Yes. It's right over there." Jerry said pointing to the bookshelf.
"Well, you can barely see it. You've got that plant in the way." Shelly said squinting her eyes.
"Well, I thought it set more of an atmosphere. You know, the brave island warrior lurking behind the bushes ready to strike at any moment."
"That's so funny. Well, I guess that's why you're the comedian." Shelly said laughing.
"Someone has to be. I've been meaning to ask you Shelly -- I'm not really sure how that could remind you, or anyone for that matter, of my act."
"Really, I thought it just seemed so obvious." Shelly said still laughing.
"No, no, it really isn't." Jerry said remaining straight faced.
"Wow, you're really oblivious to it, aren't you?"
Shelly looked at her watch,
"Oh Jeez, is that the right time? I'm sorry, Jerry, but I really have to get a move on. If I'm late to the club again they're going to can me."
"But—"
Shelly flew out the door.
"But how does it remind you of my act?" Jerry yelled after her.
Meanwhile at Belmont…Kramer and George were standing near the betting lines.
"Okay, give me your money George." Kramer said looking at the monitor.
"Now you're absolutely sure, that this horse is going to win?" George asked.
"Oh, he'll pay, Georgie boy. He'll pay big time." Kramer had that crazed look his eyes were like dark beady little Junior Mints.
"All right. Hey isn't that Brad Lester over there?"
Brad Lester was standing at the betting booth.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Didn't he just break-up with Debbie Bishop last week?"
"No, it was Phil Drake who broke-up with Debbie Bishop. Brad broke up with Debbie Taylor." Kramer said.
"I always had a thing for Debbie Taylor. She used to wear these cute pink braids in her hair."
"Do you want to wear braids in your hair too, George?" Kramer said with a smirk.
"NO!" George said defensively. "Look I'm going to go talk to hi, maybe I can get her number."
George walked over to where Brad Lester was in line.
"Brad?"
"George? Hey how you doing?"
"Couldn't be better. How are you and Debbie doing?"
"We broke up last week."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I always thought you guys were going to go the distance. It's a sad state of affairs for us all."
"Yeah I heard about your fiancée passing. Sorry, George."
"Does Debbie still do that thing with her hair with the braids?"
A gruff looking man smiking a cigar pushes into George.
"Hey, buddy you wanna move it?"
George doesn't seem to notice the man.
"I always thought that was cute the way she'd wear her hair with pink braids, girly but not slutty."
The man raised his voice feeling he was being ignored. "Come on, you're either on or off the line guy!"
"Listen, I'll just be a minute." George pleaded.
"Security!" The man shouted.
Seeing a confrontation arise, Brad makes a hasty retreat.
Kramer grabbed George by the shoulder.
"George, come on. Let's go size up the competition."
George and the man exchange scowls as he and Kramer exit to the outside grounds.
Back in Manhattan….Elaine is pushing the guy in wheelchair through an apartment driveway. Out of nowhere, the long wooden arm of a traffic gate swings down, karate-chopping him on the back of the head.
Elaine, scared and confused, looks to see if there are any witnesses. Seeing none, Elaine high tails it out of there.
"I'll get you for this one lady... I'll have my revenge!" The guy in the wheelchair screamed after Elaine.
Back at the race track…Kramer and George were watching the horses in the paddock.
"Which one is ours?" George asked Kramer.
"Number 12, Georgie Porgie."
"Georgie Porgie is the name of our horse?"
"Georgie Porgie puddin' pop." Kramer said smiling.
As George was looking at the horse he spotted a jockey sneeze into his hands. The jockey, looking both ways to see if anyone was watching, wiped his hands on the mane of George Porgie. No one except for George saw this take place.
"Kramer, did you just see that?"
"See what?" Kramer asked looking around.
"That jockey over her. He just blew his nose in his hands and then wiped it on Georgie Porgie's mane."
"Are you sure?"
"Well I saw it with my own two eyes. Can they do that sort of thing?"
"I don't know." Kramer said with an upset tone.
Meanwhile at Jerry's apartment…Elaine entered, she seemed more than a little frazzled.
"What happened to you?" Jerry asked. "You look like you've been mugged."
"My god, you would not believe the type of day I've had thus far. Do you know that guy, Brad Lester?"
"Didn't he break up with Debbie Bishop last week?"
"No, Phil Drake broke up with Debbie Bishop. Brad broke up with Debbie Taylor."
"That's right."
"Okay, but anyway. I'm coming out of the movie theater and I see Brad, so I start talking to him. In the process, I smack this disabled guy square in the face."
"No way."
"It's true, Jerry. It was the big soda."
"The big soda?"
"Yeah, I bought one of those super large sodas from the refreshment counter. It threw off my balance."
"Ah yes, the big soda... So, what's up with the Bradster?"
"I don't know. I guess he ducked into the theater while I was being accosted. What is that?"
"You can see that from where you're standing?" Jerry said dismayed.
"Yeah, it's a wooden something. Looks like a statue."
"I thought I pushed it back far enough." Jerry walked over to the shelf.
"Why are you trying to hide it?" Elaine asked.
Jerry put on his oven mitts in order to take the statue off the shelf.
"Wow... Why'd you buy that?"
"I didn't buy it. It was a souvenir gift from Shelly."
"That's the waitress from the club."
"She said it reminded her of my act."
"Well, I do believe Shelly has not yet witnessed your full routine." Elaine said grinning.
"Okay, you don't have to make a complete mockery of it. I still don't understand how it reminds her of my act."
"Well, maybe while you're performing you're prone to a certain sort of arousal." Elaine said laughing.
"What are you saying?"
"Perhaps, when you're performing you get excited. You know, like a reverse performance anxiety."
"You mean, while I'm performing on stage my guy's out conducting traffic?"
"It has been known to happen, that all I'm saying."
"Elaine, I think I'd be somewhat cognitive if my bases were loaded and I had a guy up to bat."
"Well, maybe you're not. Maybe it's subconscious. Have you ever seen your own act?"
"No, I only audio record it."
"Well, maybe you could get Kramer or George to come and check you out?"
"Check me out? What am I, a peep show?"
"I don't know. Look, you figure it out, I got to get back to work before Peterman finds out I've been playing hooky."
Back at the race track…Kramer and George are watching the horse race. It seems that Kramer sure win fell short. Suddenly, there is a crackle over the PA system.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there seems to be an investigation into the fifth race. We'll give you those results in a moment... Yes, the actual winner is... Georgie Porgie."
Cheers go up through the betting lines, followed by boos.
"George you won." Kramer said astounded.
"I won?" George questioned equally shocked.
"Apparently a foreign viscose-type substance was found in the mane of the horse." A passing tinhorn spouted.
"Kramer, I just won fifty thousand dollars."
Meanwhile…Elaine had made it back to her office without her boss J. Peterman noticing. She was wamped with work.
"Elaine?" Peterman said hurrying into her office.
"Yes, Mr. Peterman?" Elaine said looking up from the pile of folders on her desk.
"Elaine, I need you to bring a press kit over to the Kant Firm, A SAP."
"But, Mr. Peterman, I have all this editing to do for next month's catalog. Doesn't Anderson do all the pr work?"
"Anderson, is out sick for the week, in fact the entire pr department is out sick with typhoid. Elaine, I need it pronto."
Meantime…at Jerry's, Kramer is telling him about the score at the track.
"I'm telling you Jerry, we made out like a couple of bandits."
"Wow, and to think it was all because of a little misplaced snot." Jerry remarked.
"So, what did you want to ask me, buddy?"
"I want you to check out my act at the club tonight, Kramer."
"Sure."
"But that's not all... You see Elaine believes that Shelly bought the statue for me because during my act... My guy is up to bat."
"Well, that's rather embarrassing."
"That's why I want you to come down to the club, to see."
"Okay, I'll do it, but on one condition."
"Anything."
"I don't want to have to pay the cover charge."
"Fine. Just make sure you're there for the first set, I have to know what's going on down there."
Along the city sidewalks of the West Side, George bumps into Shelly.
"How was your trip to Bora Bora?" George asked smiling.
"Great, really nice." Shelly answered.
"You know both Jerry and I have been meaning to ask you…"
"About the statue, right?"
"How does it remind you of his act?"
"Look, I've seen a lot of comics come and go, George, but I've never seen anyone as comfortable on stage as Jerry Seinfeld. I mean, when you watch him perform, it's like you're sitting in his living room. He's so comfortable on stage it's like, I don't know, like he's naked up there or something."
"Naked" Did you say, naked?" George was suddenly taken aback by a powerful day dream of Jerry doing his stand-up act naked.
"I mean I can understand calling an orange an orange, and a blueberry a blueberry, but someone please explain goose berries to me."
The audience laughed heartily, Jerry smiled. George on the other hand tried to shake the strange image from his mind.
"So when I saw the statue, it made perfect sense to me." Shelly added with a shrug.
"You very complex woman, Shelly." George observed.
"Hey, isn't that Brad Lester?" Shelly postulated.
"Where?" George asked looking around.
"Over there by that fruit stand…" Shelly pointed out. "….didn't he break up with Debbie Bishop last week?"
"No, Phil Drake broke up with Debbie Bishop; Brad broke up with Debbie Taylor... I'll see you later."
"Bye, George".
George chased down Brad Lester on the opposite side of the street.
"Brad?"
"George! Hey, twice in one day."
"I lost you at the races."
"Yeah, I've just been in this fog lately... ever since Debbie left me."
"She left you? I thought it was a mutual thing." George said somewhat surprised.
"Nope, it was right after I got fired from my investment job."
"You got fired?" George asked empathetically.
"Then came the nervous breakdown. Then the downward spiral of drugs and alcohol, and to top it all off, today I got evicted."
"I'm sorry Brad. I mean if there was anything I could do..."
"Well, as a matter of fact you can, George..."
Brad pulled a handgun out of his jacket and stuck it into George's chest.
"Give me all your money." Brad ordered.
"You're robbing me?"
"I want everything George; everything you won at the track today."
"I can't believe this!" George said pulling out his wallet..
Meanwhile….Elaine was down by Wall Street dropping off that press kit. She approached the receptionist.
"Excuse me, I was looking for the office of Mr. Kant?"
"That's right here. I was just about to bring these folders and pot of coffee to him."
"Oh, here let me help you." Elaine said smiling.
Elaine picked up the hot pot of coffee.
"Could you?" The receptionist said referring to the office door.
"Oh sure." Elaine swung open the door, stepping into the guy in the wheelchair and spilling the scolding coffee on him. The guy in the wheelchair let out a giant shriek of pain.
"You..." The guy in the wheelchair said contemptuously.
Elaine without missing a beat, dashed from the office.
"I'll get you lady! I know your face! I'll find you if it's the last thing I ever do!" The man in the wheelchair yelled in rage.
Later that night at the comedy club….Jerry was doing his act. Kramer was sitting in front of the stage, moving back and forth boldly staring at Jerry's crotch, much to the utter annoyance and dismay of both Jerry and the audience. An inebriated gentleman decided to confront Kramer.
"Look sir, do you mind?"
"Huh?" Kramer asked.
"I said sir, do you mind?"
"Look friend, I'm trying to do my pal a favor."
"You're a dirty freak."
"Come again?"
"I said your pal is about as funny as a can of worms."
"Oh, really?" Kramer asked getting up in the man's face.
Kramer suddenly lunged at the man. The two crashed into empty tables and chairs. Many of the patrons screamed and fled the club.
"Kramer!" Jerry shouted in vain.
The following day…. George, Elaine and Jerry were at Monks having coffee.
"The police just did nothing?" Jerry asked George.
"They said they look into it. I just left." George said cynically.
"But, George, the police could've gotten your money back if you would have filled out a report." Elaine said.
"I figure why kick a man while he's down. How often do I get to meet someone more pathetic than me?" George said.
"I could give you fifty thousand reasons, Willy." Jerry said.
George looked at Jerry with a sulk…"you're right I'll go back after lunch."
"Well, at least we discovered the mystery of the statue." Elaine said smiling while taking a sip of her coffee.
"Ah yes, the mystery of the statue." George said with a tip of his cup and a wink to Elaine.
"Oh, by the way, thanks a lot, Elaine." Jerry snapped at Elaine.
"What'd I do?" Elaine said befuddled.
"Because of you and your stupid psychobabble, last night Shelly told me she doesn't want anything else to do with me... She thinks I hang out with a bunch of bar brawlers."
"It's not my fault, it's Kramer's fault..." Elaine said defensively.
Kramer entered the diner and took a seat at the booth.
"There he is the big winner." Kramer said smiling at George.
George didn't smile back. Kramer continued…"Hey, guess who I just ran into..."
"Who?" Jerry asked.
"Brad Lester. The Bradster." Kramer said smiling. "He was wearing a Giorgio Armani suit."
"You ran into Brad Lester? Where was he?" George implored.
"Near the park, he was helping push some guy in a wheelchair to the bus stop."
Elaine spat her coffee out all over the table.
"Was it something I said?" Kramer asked smiling.