The Training of Ricky

"How's he doing, Doc? Is he alright?"

"Well, he just came out of the coma. We think he'll make it, but we want to keep him under observation to be sure."

"Can I see him?"

"Fifteen minutes." said the doctor.

"Ricky! Oh, Ricky! How did this happen? Who did this to you?" cried Bruce.

"Well, Bruce, I'm afraid I did this to myself. It all started two months ago. I went to my doctor to have my annual physical. I happened to be very drunk at the time, so when he checked my eyes, I guess I didn't see as well as I usually do. He diagnosed me with glacoma, some eye problem apparently, and gave me a prescription for marijuana. My vision did improve, but there was a side effect to this drug: I was high all the time. It started affecting my work as a chimney sweep. Sometimes I would use the wrong brush, and sometimes I'd use no brush at all, I'd just remove as much soot as I could with my tongue. I started to need the marijuana all the time. I even stole your Nakazumi 5-speed bike to help pay for my habit. I realized I had gone about as low as a man could go. I decided to quit, cold turkey. After two days, while reading through an issue of Transworld Snowboarding, I saw an ad in the back that aroused my old craving. Some company was selling plans for the greatest bong of all time, even better than the famous Death Star. This was the Death Star II. It required five aquariums, three hundred yards of copper tubing, a carburator, and for some reason, a stuffed squirrel. I sent away for the plans, and oversaw construction myself. The plumber, the electrician, and the quantum mechanic engineer I sub-contracted worked day and night for a week, and when it was done I was overjoyed. I had to go a few towns over to smoke out of it because it wasn't in compliance with our local zoning laws. I was all set to smoke, after having gone through withdrawal for the past few weeks. I bought as much as I could find, and packed it in. I guess I had about fifteen pounds. I smoked it all in about twelve minutes before I passed out. The doctors said I overdosed. I'm lucky to be alive."

"Ah. An all too common scenario. I've seen it a million times. When are those doctors going to learn!"

"I'm sorry Bruce."

"Don't be sorry Ricky. We all make mistakes. As soon as you get out of this place, come to me. I will train you to be a crime fighter."

Ten minutes later, Ricky showed up at Bruce's house.

"Ah, Ricky. Now your training will begin. The most important skill for a crime fighter is concentration. Take this head of lettuce and balance it on your left ear lobe. Whatever you do, the lettuce must not fall."

As Ricky stood there balancing the lettuce, Bruce ran around him tickling him with a feather. After many hours, Ricky finally managed to keep the lettuce firmly balanced on his ear lobe. "Ah, you have learned well Ricky-San." said Bruce.

"Bruce, you're not Asian."

"Never insult the master, Ricky, or you will lose face. Your next challenge is to confront your fear. You will go to the Stop-and-Shop and you will loudly ask for a rectal suppository, adult diapers, and the latest issue of She-Male magazine. You will also tell everyone in the store that you are buying those items for yourself."

Bruce waited outside as Ricky continued his quest. A few minutes later Ricky returned with all the requested items. "Were you successful, Ricky?"

"Oh yeah. The checkout lady gave me her number, too."

"You are learning well. Now you will get me a hot dog."

"That doesn't sound to hard."

"No. It is not, but it is the skill that will come in handy most, for I often want to eat hot dogs."

"Very well." Ricky returned two minutes later with a hotdog in his hand.

"Your training is not yet complete. Now you must get me ketchup." Ricky returned with ketchup soon after.

"Now you are ready to be a crime fighter." The two returned home and watched Cannonball Run 4 on Channel 11.

"You know, Bruce, something about Dom DeLoise is just really funny. I think it's his weight."

"You're crazy Ricky. It's Burt Reynolds mustache that makes this movie so great."

"No way Bruce. Dom DeLoise's obesity is what makes this movie so great, and if you don't like him, you can get the bozack."

"Have you been listening to Run-DMC lately, Ricky?"

"Yeah. How'd you know? I guess you're not the sucka MC I thought you were."

Suddenly the classic Burt Reynolds comedy was interrupted by some breaking news. "This just in. Wanted bank robber Stretch Limo strikes again. This time he held up National Homeowner's Savings and Loan before heading to the Blockbuster Video next door to rent Showgirls. When Limo found they only had an edited R-rated version, he started taking hostages. We go now to Chopper 11, live on the scene."

"Come on, Ricky. Our help is needed."

"But I don't know how the movie ends!"

"Burt and Dom win, Ricky."

"Oh, wow! I knew they would!"

Bruce Venom and his trusty sidekick Ricky went to the Blockbuster Video store where infamous armed robber Stretch Limo was holding hostages. Since Ricky stole their beloved Nakazumi 5 speed to pay for his medical marijuana habit, all they had was Ricky's skateboard.

"Faster, Ricky!" shouted Bruce.

"I'm giving it all I can Bruce. You try pushing a skateboard with a man on your shoulders." When they arrived on the scene, Captain O'Boyle, Bruce's former boss, was negotiating on the megaphone.

"Just come out now and nobody will get hurt... except for you of course. Uh, not that we'll hurt you, but we'll make sure you go to jail where you'll be subjected to unconsentual anal sex on a quite consistent basis. Ha, ha, ha."

"That's what you think, copper. This store has a large Michael Caine section, and I won't even think about leaving until I've watched them all."

"Michael Caine... uh, oh. Boys, we may be here a while." Suddenly he turned around and saw Bruce and Ricky. "What are you two doing here? You're private citizens."

"That may be true, you bloated bureaucrat, but at least I still care. I want to help. Let me go in there to negotiate."

"Well, it is a very dangerous job going in there Bruce. On the other hand, I would like to see you dead. Go on in."

When Bruce went in he was greeted by a very scruffy, dangerous looking, and extremely short man. "Are you one of Stretch Limo's henchmen? I thought he worked alone."

"No." snapped the man, "I'm Stretch Limo, and I'm in quite a jam here. I need to negotiate."

"Something's wrong here. You're short."

"I know. I know!" he sobbed.

"Ah how cute," said Ricky. Bruce gave him a funny, puzzled look. "Uhh... In a Gary Coleman kind of way. You know? Right?"

"Well why are you named 'Stretch' shouldn't you be called something like 'Contract'?"

"I know. You're right. When my parents came here from Croatia, they knew little English. They tried really hard, and after a few years they became quite fluent. When I was born, they realized that with a last name like 'Limo' the possibility existed for a really clever name. They also were wise enough to know that if I grew up to be a basketball player, it would help with the endorsements. Unfortunately, I never became tall. That's all I ever wanted in life. Since I could never become a tall guy, I did the next best thing: become an armed robber."

"You're story made perfect, coherent logical sense. Of course you rob banks. You're short. If I were as short as you, I would have killed myself, but you had the courage to act out against society and blame them for your parents' genetic shortcomings. I will help you out. Return all the money you stole, and I could help you strike a plea bargain to keep you out of jail."

"Uh, Bruce. Are you sure this is such a good idea? This doesn't sound like you at all."

"Trust me. I'm thinking about the future."

"Wow, really Bruce! That would be great." said Stretch Limo.

"Then once you're back on the streets I'll help make you tall!"

Stretch instantly surrendered. Bruce's plan had worked. For assisting in the apprehension of Stretch Limo, he was rewarded with enough money to buy a sporty red Subaru coupe. A few month's later, Stretch Limo was given a suspended sentence and rushed over to Bruce's house for his tall treatment.

"I think we're both going to like this very much." said Bruce as he led him to the basement and put him in his medieval torture device room. He strapped him into the rack and went upstairs. "Ha, Ha. Now Stretch is being stretched. Ooh boy! I'm so damn clever!" Bruce made himself a bowl of popcorn and ate it in front of the TV as Stretch's screams of agony nearly drowned out the sweet, sweet voice of Marcia Brady.