"Godzilla and The Smog Monster"
Chapter Four
The Twelve Alarm was an old, two-story, redbrick firehouse that had been completely restored—and then renovated—into a family restaurant/lounge.
The establishment was the 'labor of love' of one Andrew 'Mac' McPhearson.
Being as how the building was an old firehouse, and Mac was a retired LACFD Battalion Chief, the Twelve Alarm's décor was—most appropriately—all Fire Service related.
There were dozens of paintings depicting fire scenes, hundreds of old fire department photographs, pieces of antique fire gear and equipment, and various other odd bits of fire-fighting memorabilia, mounted everywhere!
Why, liquid refreshments were even dispensed from tiny brass fire hose nozzles and the draft beer was even stored in fire-hydrant-shaped kegs.
The building's top floor housed the Twelve Alarm's family restaurant. Its ground floor contained its pool tables and lounge.
The restaurant's fine cuisine, and its Fire Service theme, made it a popular hangout for off-duty LA County firemen—and their families.
Being a place where guys gathered made the establishment a magnet for girls. Which turned the Twelve Alarm into an even more popular hangout for single off-duty LA County firemen.
The restaurant's big, antique brass cash register was situated on a circular checkout counter in the center of its large, open dining area.
In the middle of the enclosed checkout counter, was a gaping hole containing a shiny, brass fire pole. The top of the two-stories-tall pole was secured to the restaurant's ceiling, and its base, to the lounge's carpeted floor.
Mac allowed anyone who flashed a Fire Department badge access to the pole. Which meant firefighters could slide, instead of step down, into the building's first-floor lounge.
John Gage finished placing his party of three's pizza order…and then did just that!
Kelly and Lopez were in the process of screwing their custom pool cues together. The two men looked up just in time to see Gage come sliding into the lounge.
He was wearing a well-tailored, white, long-sleeved dress shirt, tight black blue jeans, polished black leather boots, and a broad black leather belt with a solid silver buckle engraved with his name.
The six-foot-one firefighter's rather dramatic entrance, and snazzy attire, had turned more than a few female heads in the room.
"They said it could be awhile," John reported, as he rejoined his friends. "Orders are a little backed-up, on account a' this crazy holiday crowd." He pulled a cue stick right from the wall rack and rolled it across the closest pool table a few times, to judge how badly it was warped. The stick didn't wobble a bit. So he kept it and began chalking the little round leather strip glued to its tapered tip.
"I'll buy the first round," Chester B. volunteered. "Name your poison, gentlemen…"
"I'll take a beer," Marco told him. "Anything domestic."
"Milk," the paramedic promptly replied. "Make it a large."
Chet's mustached face scrunched up. "Mi-ilk?"
"I gotta go to work in two hours," John reminded him.
"Oh…yea-eah…right. It sucks to be you," Kelly realized and began heading for the bar.
"You sure you don't want him to bring you some coffee, instead?" Marco teased.
"I've already had ten cups, today. I figured I better ease up on the coffee for awhile. I'm starting to experience a little caffeine-induced 'sinus tachycardia'."
"You guys were gone most of the night, a-and most of the morning. Were you able to get any sleep at all?"
"I think I may have dozed off at the Laundromat for a few minutes."
"Ma-an!" Lopez gave his weary companion a look of profound sympathy. "Chet's right. It sucks to be you."
"It really sucked to be me this morning!" the paramedic confessed.
"Why-y?" Chet inquired, upon his return to their table. He set their beverage order down and picked his custom pool cue back up. "What 'sucky' things happened to you this morning?"
"First, this guy with a pacemaker gets invited over to his new neighbors for a cup of coffee. The neighbor's wife notices the guy's coffee is a little cold, so she sticks it in the microwave and turns it on. The guy's pacemaker goes on the fritz. He's in v-fib, by the time we get there. We can't get a conversion…the ambulance is delayed. So Roy and I ended up performing CPR on the guy—for over an hour!
Then—and you're not gonna be-lie-ieve this one—this lady is having this New Year's Eve party tonight, right? So she decides she's gonna make a bunch of confetti for her guests, so they can have something to throw up in the air when the little hand and the big hand hit twelve," the paramedic paused, looking rather lost. "I still haven't figured out yet how she did it. But, somehow, she managed to get her little toe caught in this paper shredder. I had to stand there—for over twenty minutes—with this chick shrieking in my ear—while Roy tried to disassemble the thing, so we could extricate her poor little piggy from the jaws of the terrible shredder machine. I tell yah, it was unreal how that woman could scream!"
Marco was fascinated. "So…did it make confetti out of her toe?"
"Not hardly! Her toe came outta there with just a little nick. Morton told us later that it only took one stitch. Which he should a' put in her lips!"
"Whatever became of the guy with the pacemaker?" Kelly inquired.
"Last I heard, he was still in CCU. The docs were able to recalibrate the pacemaker, and they're hopeful that he's gonna make it." John flexed his aching shoulders. "He's sure gonna have a sore chest for awhile, though…"
His companions were pleased to hear that the guy had made it.
The paramedic started pulling quarters from his pocket. "So…who's gonna break first?"
Two hours, two pizzas, seven games of pool, four beers, two large glasses of milk, and a cup of coffee later, Gage returned the cue stick to its rack.
"Ah-ah, c'mon!" Kelly moaned. "I demand retribution!"
John just smiled. "I'd love to beat you—again, Chet. Bu-ut, I gotta go to work."
Chet glanced at his watch. It was only 9:22. "What's your rush? 16's is only about eight blocks from here."
"I wanna get there early. So I won't hafta rush," Gage explained. "I hate being rushed!"
"I gotta go, too," Marco announced. "My mother has invited our relatives over for a New Year's Eve party, and she's threatened to disown me if I don't show up. She told me to invite you guys, too. You coming, Chet? My mom's got plenty of food!"
Chet brightened and began dismantling his pool cue. "Thanks, Marco! Don't mind if I do. Just as long as I make it home by twelve…"
Kelly's curious time comment caused Gage and Lopez to exchange glances.
Marco turned back to Chet. "Why? What happens if you're not home by midnight? Does that lemon you drive turn back into a pumpkin?"
John snickered. "Nah-ah. He turns back into a toad."
Chet gave both of his chuckling chums an annoyed glare. "There's an all-night Godzilla movie festival on channel four. 'Godzilla and The Smog Monster' starts at twelve—and I don't wanna miss it!"
Gage gave Kelly a confused stare. "I thought you just watched that movie."
"Yeah…well…it bears re-watching."
John was even more confused. "Isn't that the one where he takes a deep breath and blows and goes sailing across the sky—backwards?"
Kelly nodded.
Gage gasped in disbelief. "That's gotta be one of the silliest, most ridiculous movies ever made!"
"Exactly! That's what makes it such a classic, cinematic treasure! It's so ba-ad…it's good!"
John and Marco just glanced at each other and rolled their eyes.
"You guys still comin' over to watch the bowl games at my place, tomorrow?" John wondered, as he snatched up his black leather jacket.
Both of his buddies nodded.
"I'll bring the food," Marco offered. "I'm sure there will be plenty of leftovers."
"And I'll bring the beer," Chet chimed in.
"Great!" the paramedic proclaimed, sounding both pleased and relieved. "Because I didn't get a chance to stop and shop." John tossed his jacket on and then flashed his friends a warm, slightly askew smile. "See yah next year," he teased. He bid them both a good evening and a happy New Year, and reluctantly disappeared up the stairs.
The second he was out of earshot, Kelly and Lopez turned to one another and whined—in perfect unison, "Crai-aig Bri-ice!"
Gage's highly amused companions swapped grins. Then they stuck their custom cue sticks back inside their little black cases, and left for the Lopez Family's party.
TBC