BS: Madam Fifi's Salon

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: SINSULL
Date: 27 May 00 - 07:06 PM

...fire burn and cauldron bubble."

The sobbing had stopped and delirious Betty had turned to her stoves setting multiple pots upon multiple burners. To Liz and Jen this looked like real trouble not likely to be cured with a pound of fudge. They stood by quietly watching as Betty lined up her recipes and ingredients. "Strange", they thought."Why is she baking mint pie and brownies? And what's with the Long Island Ice Tea?"

"I thought we were getting fresh pretzels...." The stench from the proof box sent them scurrying back to the salon empty handed.

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: Mbo
Date: 27 May 00 - 05:44 PM

But the Yardbirds & Mbo of the PsychedlicPipes love their fans and would do ANYTHING for them! Mbo smiled, he got an email from Andy the other day, saying we was reveling in the joys of iced tea.

I'm just puttyyyyyyyyyyyyy--putty in your hands uh huh!!

--Mbo

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: JenEllen
Date: 27 May 00 - 02:01 PM

The Yardbirds finally submit to Jen's pleading....and begin to sing "To All the Girls I've Loved Before"....Jen interrupts them shortly after the first bar...

"NO NO NO!!!!! YOU are Willie," pointing to Jeff Beck, "And YOU are Julio." pointing to Eric clapton....

"Now SING!!!!!" she squeals, running back before Terri crams ALL the pretzels...

"You sank my BATTLESHIP????"

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: TerriM
Date: 27 May 00 - 01:30 PM

meanwhile, in the salon, Liz and Jen had completed the game of battleships they were playing on the pristine table cloth and, alerted by the sobs from the kitchen, shuffle in to comfort Betty with chocolate and strong ale. Terri meanwhile, takes it upon herself to assuage the fury of the slighted superstars by asking for their autographs. None of them notice that they are signing a blank cheque..ha, ha, ha!!!!

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: SINSULL
Date: 27 May 00 - 01:09 PM

In the kitchen, Betty sadly examines her reflection in the bottom of a sauce pan. Her hair is ratted and dull, her complexion pale and blotchy. Her eyes fill with tears and she softly moans "Andy, oh Andy, why?" A flash of anger sparkles through the tears and she spits out the hated name "Mbo, MBO"

Only two years earlier Betty was a stunning beauty. Her hair glowed brown with red and gold highlights. Her complexion was creamy and pure, her eyes clear and innocent. A natural beauty requiring only a touch of lipstick and a stroke of mascara to outshine any woman in the room.

She was young and foolish and very much in love with her soulmate Andy the most talented of the Yardbirds. But then Mbo stepped into their lives. He filled Andy's head with nonsense about celibacy and drug free living and folk music. Like Satan himself he seduced her Andy away from her and to a life of Scottish folk music. Andy the Yardbird became Andy Stewart folksinger and left his precious Beth behind to carry on as Betty the brokenhearted.

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: TerriM
Date: 26 May 00 - 08:09 PM

There is a prodigious belch from the corner and Micca stands up.He launches into 'The Hash me Father Scored'without any prompting, ( more's the pity). At this point, Madame bursts out of the room ,in a storm of gallic invective, swearing never to let mudcatters in again. Was is it something we said. lads?

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: SINSULL
Date: 26 May 00 - 04:41 PM

"NO YOU DON'T" says Betty. "OUT WITH THE CAT OR INTO THE PROOF BOX!" And to herself she mumbles "No Yardbirds in here. This is a class(burp) establishment. And leave the pretzels on the floor. The new batched is proofed and baked. Be right back."

And she waddles off to the kitchen using her greasy, lacy cap to swat Mbo and his minions off the stage.

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: Mbo
Date: 26 May 00 - 02:39 PM

The door flys open, and in walks Mbo with a set of psychedelic Highland Pipes. Behind him walk Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, and Eric Clapton, all Yardbirds in their time. After a few seconds of tuning they all go off in resounding wild chorus

Ohhhhhhh suh-moke stack-uh laaaaaaaaaaaatnin'!!!!

--Mbo

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: TerriM
Date: 26 May 00 - 02:25 PM

Liz insists on playing the ' see how many pretzels I can get in my mouth at one time' game and there is much choking and gulping of beer. She then gets up to do her famous rendition of 'They Built the Ship Titanic'( with additions from audience,.... some of them clean) and re-sprays the room in tasteful eau de pretzel. Anyone got a cloth?

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: JenEllen
Date: 26 May 00 - 02:16 PM

Feeling more at home by the minute, Jen scoots her chair over to the table after a solemn promise that all hands will be kept where she can see them..yes it means you..

Madame Fifi, resting in the corner, coveres her face with a lace hankie, and begins to weep....

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: SINSULL
Date: 26 May 00 - 02:13 PM

Just then, FiFi herself ran catawailing from the kitchen, tail puffed up to three times its normal size. Close behind her sailed a meat cleaver. And close behind it, a slovenly chef with lace cap askew and saliva spewing out with every word. "F***ing cat. FiFi, my a**. You're a lousy street slut! Crap in the proofing box, will ya!"

Betty stops suddenly just in front of Terri, Micca, and Liz's table. "Squeak", she squawks,"How's my little mousy?" Want some fresh baked pretzels with your beer?

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: TerriM
Date: 26 May 00 - 10:56 AM

suddenly there is a riotous cacophony as TerriM, Liz the Squeak and Micca come hurtling through the door rowing about who picked up the tab in the last place. They come to an abrupt halt when they catch sight of the decor and make an embarressed attempt to straighten clothing, shine toes of shoes on back of legs, slick down hair etc. Terri can be heard whispering a reminder not to pinch the silverware or scratch themselves with the salad forks which the other two promptly ignore. They order three beers with a drop of the good stuff to chase them down with.... Madame serves them with a nervous tic twitching at the corner of her eye.... she remembers the great crockery incident from the last time they were in. Jen invites them to do something .... No, NOT THAT MICCA! To distract him Terri leaps to her feet and sings all 107 verses of Eskimo Nell at which point, Madame has to retire to her boudoir with a cologne drenched hankie and an aspirin.... Gee, was it something I said?

Subject: RE: BS: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: JenEllen
Date: 25 May 00 - 05:17 PM

The neat and clean place known as Madame Fifi's is forever sullied as the young lady enters the door. She shakes her hair from it's pilings under her baseball cap, and brushed the dog hair off of her shit-stained coveralls. Serves her right for thinking 'Salon'...here she thought she was going to get someone to pick the chaff out of her curls and maybe wash her hair for her.

Quickly realizing her faux pas, she ducks back out the door and shimmies out of her coveralls. Jeans and a t-shirt will have to do. Hopefully Madame Fifi is a kind woman.

"White wine? No thank you, but if you have a good hot tea, touch of cream and sugar, I'd be eternally grateful." She takes a table by the window with a clear view of the delicate stage where a delightful pair is singing "With Kitty I'll Go"...

"Taking turns? Oh dear...I suppose I could sing something.." She walks to the stage, more than slightly embarassed in these elegant surroundings, and borrows a guitar.

The hills are bare now
The autumn leaves lie thick and still
The land that is lost now
But oh so dearly held
Who stood against them
Proud Edward's army
And sent them homewards
To think again
Oh flower of Scotland
When will we see you light again?
Who fought and died for
Your wee bit hill and glen
And stood against them
Proud Edward's army
And sent the homewards
To think again

She quietly finishes her song, and returns to her table, wishing she just would have found someone to wash her hair....

Subject: Madam Fifi's Salon
From: Allan C.
Date: 25 May 00 - 04:09 PM

It is a neat and clean place with a surprisingly large interior belied by the rather diminutive but gleaming white clapboard exterior. It is trimmed with pink shutters, and has lavender wrought-iron all over the place. The inside is furnished with cutsie little soda-shop tables (each painted a soft yellow or powder blue) - every one appointed with tatted doilies, cloying scented candles and African violets. There is dainty bric-a-brac hanging here and there to tease the eye. The apron of the stage is lined with white chiffon flounces and Real Filet lace curtains are hanging at the rear. Just to one side of the stage is a most wonderful scratching post, covered with softened crinoline and trimmed with Picot lace. This is used from time to time by the establishment's namesake (often during performances by traveling folk artists who would, of course, be upstaged by Fifi's offstage antics).

I suppose I'll start things off by trying a bit of white wine in one of those glasses with the periwinkle motif etched into the bottom of the stem. Then perhaps Madam Fifi herself will join me onstage while I sing "With Kitty I'll Go". Who will be next?