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The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove

Titel: The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove
Autoren: Christopher Moore
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ankles), and pork (ventricular heart valve). In fact if not for the pig valve, Mavis would have jumped classes directly from animal to mineral, without the traditional stop at vegetable taken by most. The more inventive drunks at the Slug (little more than vegetables themselves) swore that sometimes, between songs on the jukebox, one could hear tiny but powerful servomotors whirring Mavis around behind the bar. Mavis was careful never to crush a beer can or move a full keg in plain sight of the customers lest she feed the rumors and ruin her image of girlish vulnerability.
    When Theo entered the Head of the Slug, he saw ex-scream-queen Molly Michon on the floor with her teeth locked into the calf of a gray-haired man who was screeching like a mashed cat. Mavis stood over them both, brandishing her Louisville Slugger, ready to belt one of them out of the park.
    "Theo," Mavis shrilled, "you got ten seconds to get this wacko out of my bar before I brain her."
    "No, Mavis." Theo raced forward and knocked Mavis's bat aside while reaching into his back pocket for his handcuffs. He pried Molly's hands from around the man's ankle and shackled them behind her back. The gray-haired man's screams hit a higher pitch.
    Theo got down on the floor and spoke into Molly's ear. "Let go, Molly. You've got to let go of the man's leg."
    An animal sound emanated from Molly's throat and bubbled out through blood and saliva.
    Theo stroked her hair out of her face. "I can't fix the problem if you don't tell me what it is, Molly. I can't understand you with that guy's leg in your mouth."
    "Stand back, Theo," Mavis said. "I'm going to brain her."
    Theo waved Mavis away. The gray-haired man screamed even louder.
    "Hey!" Theo shouted. "Pipe down. I'm trying to have a conversation here."
    The gray-haired man lowered his volume.
    "Molly, look at me."
    Theo saw a blue eye look away from the leg and the bloodlust faded from it. He had her back.
    "That's right, Molly. It's me, Theo. Now what's the problem?"
    She spit out the man's leg and turned to look at Theo. Mavis helped the man to a bar stool. "Get her out of here," Mavis said. "She's eighty-sixed.This time forever."
    Theo kept his eyes locked on Molly's. "Are you okay?"
    She nodded. Bloody drool was running down her chin. Theo grabbed a bar napkin and wiped it away, careful to keep his fingers away from her mouth.
    "I'm going to help you up now and we're going to go outside and talk about this, okay?"
    Molly nodded and Theo picked her up by the shoulders, set her on her feet and steered her toward the door. He looked over his shoulder at the bitten man. "You okay? You need a doctor?"
    "I didn't do anything to her. I've never seen that woman before in my life. I just stopped in for a drink."
    Theo looked at Mavis for confirmation. "He hit on her," Mavis said. "But that's no excuse. A girl should appreciate the attention." She turned and batted her spiderlike false eyelashes at the bitten man. "I could show you some appreciation, sweetie."
    The bitten man looked around in a panic. "No, I'm fine. No doctor. I'm just fine. My wife's waiting for me."
    "As long as you're okay," Theo said. "And you don't want to press charges or anything?"
    "No, just a misunderstanding.Soon as you get her out of here, I'll be heading out of town."
    There was a collective sigh of disappointment from the regulars who had been placing side bets on who Mavis would hit with her bat.
    "Thanks," Theo said. He shot Mavis a surreptitious wink and led Molly out to the street excusing himself and his prisoner as they passed an old Black man who was coming through the door carrying a guitar case.
    "I 'spose a man run outta sweet talk and liquor, he gots to go to mo' direct measures," the old Black man said to the bar with a dazzling grin. "Someone here lookinfo ' a Bluesman?"
    Molly Michon
    Theo put Molly into the passenger side of the Volvo. She sat with her head down, her great mane of gray-streaked blonde hair hanging in her face. She wore an oversized green sweater, tights, and high-top sneakers, one red, one blue. She could have been thirty or fifty – and she told Theo a different age every time he picked her up.
    Theo went around the car and climbed in. He said, "You know, Molly, when you bite a guy on the leg, you're right on the edge of 'a danger to others or yourself' you know that?"
    She nodded and sniffled. A tear dropped out of the mass of hair and spotted her sweater.
    "Before I start driving, I need to know that
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