As routine would have it, Malarkey walks into Flann O’Brien’s. Although this time, quite curious to Malarkey, Liliana wishes to accompany him as they make the short jaunt from Phigmente Hall. What’s different about this particular visit is that Liliana walks in before Malarkey, rushes behind the bar, embraces Paolo and kisses him on the cheek. Malarkey stops abruptly at the bar and looks at the Reader.
“I guess that’s one way to get free drinks. Seems a bit pushy to me. Must have something to do with the storyline.”
Liliana turns to Malarkey.
“He’s my cousin. He owns the bar.”
Malarkey looks at the Reader once again.
“What a twist. What is this, a second-rate M. Night Shyamalan movie?”
Malarkey turns back to them.
“This is Professor Malarkey,” Liliana says to Paolo.
“Yes, we’ve met. A Black Nail at four-thirty, right?”
“Boy’s a genius.”
“We had a very engaging conversation last night.”
“Really? About what?”
“Did you know he’s an avid Formula One enthusiast and a cyclist?”
“Who would have thought?” She turns to Malarkey. “Would that be with clothes or without?”
Malarkey smirks.
“It’s on my bucket list.”
“What is? Driving without clothes?”
“No, driving an F1 car.”
“Best to be clothed then, I imagine,” she states unequivocally.
Malarkey sheepishly smiles. It’s clear he’s met his match.
There would be little need to go into a long and lengthy narrative about how the three of them sat down in a booth, chatted from 4:30 to 7:30, and talked about sundry topics that would, no doubt, bore the Reader if not Malarkey. So, Malarkey will avoid going into those pedestrian issues until the next chapter titled: The Obligatory Backstory.1
1 At this point, Malarkey would like to apologize for the way the novel has been written so far since some might think it’s merely a “mind game” or as one numbskull editor called it, a “campus novel” which, in itself, is patently specious and not in keeping with the strict codes of fictional narrative. To those Readers who think that way, Malarkey deeply apologizes and in the immortal words of Rimbaud says, “Va te faire foutre!” Please read on. Or not.