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Chessville
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Manns Chess
Divan Before I delve into the mysterious, mystical world of chess, perhaps it would be best to give a little background on the little known world of the chess club, its patrons and a little insight of what goes on in a “typical” chess club. This is to provide a small insight to the commoners who still envision chess players as the “grandfatherly” type with no sense of humor, weird types, or people who are delving into the black arts. Chess clubs are thought to be places where old men go nightly to indulge their urge to play chess and commune with others of their ilk. Quiet, smoke-filled rooms where grand old men in suits taking up their cigars or a pinch of Gawith snuff and a glass of Brandy at their elbows. Chess, the game of kings. This may be a typical scene at many or most chess clubs, but NOT at Mann’s Chess Club! I have been to the “typical” chess clubs, and grand they are indeed! A good place to enjoy the company of others of your kind, brush up on that favorite Kings Indian, or play over the old Masters games such as those by Tal, Breyer, Bronstein etc. If this is your cup of tea, then by all means, DO NOT go to Mann’s Chess Club! Before I go into too much detail, I think it would be best to tell about the origins of Mann’s Chess club. One evening while playing my good and dear friend, Manny the Mangler, I am trying to envision what would happen if I move my black Bishop to b4. Manny leans back and says “Hey Hawk, I think it’s time we had a real chess club, don’t you?” “A chess club?” says Hawk “Now Manny, you know our wives would never go for that.” “They don’t have to know” whispers Manny. “Ya, like they won’t find out” chuckles Hawk. “How you going to keep it from them?” “We lie like dogs” Manny remarks, “we cover for each other.” “Hmmm, just might work.” says Hawk rubbing his chin “Think we could get enough people to join?” “Well, let’s see, there’s me and you, Lenny, The Gimp, Ol’ Suggers and Ronnie and oh ya, remember the kid with spiked hair, he’ll join. There’s also Willie the Wino.” “Willie? Jeese Manny.” “Ya, Willie is a top notch player......... sober. I been checking Hawk, Paddy Mann over by Chicks Creek has a big barn out in the middle of nowhere. With a little fixin’ up, be a great hideout, er, chess club.” To move forward in time, the next day Manny and I go to see Paddy & check out our future chess club. “Sure boys, I haven’t used that barn in years.” says Paddy. “One request, could you name it after me?” “Sure, it’s the least we could do Paddy” says Manny!! “Hey Paddy, how about you being our Honorary Chairman?” asks Hawk. “Aww, you guys, sure, and if you like my wife Catty would love to be in charge of the refreshments.” “That would be great Paddy!” exclaims Manny. After three weeks of work, Mann’s Chess Divan was ready for business. We had a playing room, a smoking room, a bar and fine tables that Willie “borrowed” from the local rehab center. Things at Mann’s went smooth and quiet for several months, well, kind of smooth. We were getting guys joining from the next county. The wives were none the wiser. Sneaking off a couple times a week proved to be no problem. Paddy was taking his job as Chairman very seriously. Paddy Mann. Owner, Club Chairman, and sometime tournament organizer (and more times than not, referee). Paddy, congenial man with a knack of being able to keep the club operating in a civil manner so as to keep the local gendarmes at bay. The local authorities have been called from time to time by irate neighbors complaining of what was thought to be gunshots coming from Paddy’s digs. The only time it has been totally quiet and orderly is when Paddy’s wife, Catty is there. Catty, (Catherine) lovely old world lady. She came by the name “Catty” from her cat-quick reflexes. Quiet and reserved, she would bring sandwiches and pop to the players, and on a good night a homemade pie! Yes, pop, as no alcoholic beverages are served at Mann’s due to past experiences. Probably where the rumors of gunshots originally started. The patrons give Catty the utmost respect and a wide berth from the “Booger Incident.” One evening as Catty was passing out corned beef sandwiches, Booger McGee, with head down pondering a rather complicated rook and pawn ending, remarked as Catty passed by, “‘Bout time, half starved to death”. All eyes focused on Booger and Catty. WHACK!! No one could tell if it was a right or left, but Booger’s hat sailed across three tables after the blow landed. All of Booger’s hair was laying to one side and seemed to be vibrating violently. All eyes went down and back to their respective chess games for fear of being the next victim of Catty’s wrath. Only thing we had to fear was the Gimp. Those of you that have read the previous stories [Editor: Great Raccoon Hunt and Fiasco at the Park] know that the Gimp has a penchant for fire. Being aware of that, we installed fifty seven fire extinguishers and three fire hoses hooked up to a well with a high pressure pump. Not having the funds to install proper sanitary facilities, we managed to “acquire” a “port-a-potty”. We are quite sure Lenny ripped it off from a construction site in the middle of the night. REAL men would use the bushes but we figured we would class it up a bit. We did have to move it three times to find the right spot to keep it .......downwind. We also learned to give Willie the Wino a good “pat down” before letting him in. One evening as Willie was out in the port-a-potty for what seemed like an eternity, four gunshots rang out in rapid succession. Thinking we were being invaded, everybody dived under tables or whatever they could find for cover. Catty, being the bravest, hunkered down and went to investigate. After what seemed like hours, Manny finally whispers, “Hey Paddy, ya gonna go check on Catty?” “Nope, somebody’s gotta close up tonight. Besides, my brother wandered off into them woods ten years ago, never did turn up.” “Really?” asks Lenny “ What did ya do Paddy?” “I married his wife, Catty”. “Jeese Paddy” remarks Hawk shaking his head, “That’s cold.” “I bet the Fire Demon got the poor bugger” stutters The Gimp. “It almost got me that time with Hawk & Lenny. It was only by brute force that I was able to break free after I knew Lenny & Hawk were safe.” “Oh Gimp, Ya ran screaming like a cissy through the brush with the rest of us” remarked Lenny. About that time, Catty comes in. “It’s OK you big brave men, Willie just had a bout with the DT’s.” (Wino language for “delirium tremens”) To the uninformed, the DT’s make you see things that aren’t really there. We have since learned to not let Willie go into dark smelly enclosed places. From what we can gather, it was Willie who got the wives to guessing something was up. Probably from mumbling in one of his stupors, he was overheard. Lenny’s wife Mavis was the first to suspect something was going on. At the next meeting of the WC (Womans Club), in the span of one short hour our chess club went from harmless to a “mens” club. Complete with gambling, drinking, telling off-color jokes, watching lewd movies, perusing stacks of girlie books and having table dances performed by girls from the massage parlor in the next town. “I thought Manny was at your place Martha, with Hawk” Mavis says. “Same here Mavis” replies Martha. Standing up with clenched fist in the air, Granny Millie yells out, “We have been duped ladies!!” One of the ladies stands up, “What can we do?” Through clenched teeth, Granny Millie says, “We ATTACK! Ladies, we meet here tomorrow night for Operation....... Cleanse!” On their way out, they chant in unison, “Dead meat, dead meat!” The next evening, I tell Martha, “Sugar muffin, I’m gonna go over to Manny’s for some chess, OK?” “Sure Hawk, have a good time.” Two minutes later the phone lines all over town are buzzin’, the game’s afoot! Meeting at the Womans Club are 20 camo-clad, well armed women. Most are donning their husbands camo hunting clothes complete with camo grease all over their faces. Armed with all sorts of garden and kitchen utensils, they would make the 82nd Airborne cringe with fear. Mavis pulls up and drags out a large baseball bat. “Lord” exclaims Martha, “a little extreme there Mavis?” “I catch Lenny suckin’ face with one of them hoochies, he’s gonna get knee-capped.” “Anybody know where this “club” is at?” inquires Martha. “I know” grins Millie, “ I caught up with Willie and choked it outa him.” “What you got in the bag Millie?” Mavis asks. “My .44 magnum & my bow.” “A bow?” “Ya, fire arrows, we gonna burn that sucker down!” In unison, “Burn baby, burn baby!” “And the .44?” “Ya, they can run, but they’ll only die tired” Millie says. “Mount up girls, we ride in ten minutes, check your gear!” Millie yells out. With hand and butt slaps accompanied by guttural grunts and “Hooo - raaaaaas”, they pack into their cars and follow Millie. Meanwhile, back at the club, the men are lounging about, quite smug in the notion that they got away with another one. Little do they know that in a few minutes they will confront the most fearsome thing on earth - Women on a Mission. Armed with two-way radios, “Team leader one to all teams, turn off lights” whispers Millie. With lights out, they pull up to the lane that leads back to the club. Only two hundred yards away through a cornfield, their unsuspecting prey are milling about, swilling pop and stuffing down all manner of junk food they are not allowed to indulge in at home. Laying back with feet outstretched, Manny is watching Hawk and the kid with green spiked hair playing a game of chess and arguing about who was the greatest chess player of all time, Fischer or Kasparov. Looking over at the Gimp, Manny says, “This is the life Gimp.” “Yup” sighs Gimp. Paddy looks around and asks, ”Hey guys, anybody seen Willie?” “Probably passed out again in Rusty’s chicken coop” snickers Ronnie. “Last time he did that he stunk up the place so bad the chickens wouldn’t go in there for two weeks. Rusty’s still all lathered up cause his chickens haven’t laid any eggs yet.” Looking up from his table, Hawk says, ”Boys, you know Rusty ain’t no farmer, he thought he could make some easy money selling eggs, his chickens never will lay any eggs.” “Why’s that Hawk” asks the Gimp? “All roosters Gimp.” “Jeese.” Back at the road, Millie’s commandos are separating into groups. “Ladies, here’s the plan. Martha, take your girls to the right side of the barn. Snatch up any that survive the first assault and make it to the side door.” “Mavis, take your girls and make your way around back. Git the ones coming out the windows. Tootsie, take your group and cover the left. I’ll take the front.” “Millie, I’ll stay and help you with the front” says Tootsie. Grinning, Millie says, “ I work alone. One thing girls, Manny is MINE! I still owe him for my prize pie he smashed up.” Picking their way through the cornfield, they finally get into position for the final assault. “Spooky out here, huh?” says Mavis. “Hang tough, it’ll be over soon” Millie whispers. “Remember, don’t attack until I shoot my fire arrow onto the roof and the joint fills up with smoke. They’ll come out like cockroaches, then we nab them and their floozies up!” Thunk, thunk. “Hawk, what was that?” remarks Manny. “Squirrels Manny, go back to sleep.” “Bet it’s the Fire Demon” mumbles Gimp. Nervously looking about, Gimp spots smoke overhead. “FIRE, FIRE” screams the Gimp. “Run for your lives!” Knocking over tables and chess boards Manny and a dozen others run for fire extinguishers. Suggers goes for the fire-hose but it’s gone. “Paddy, where’s the fire hose?” “I took it to water my tomato patch.” “Jeese.” After letting off a dozen or so fire extinguishers, the powder from them is worse than the fire, but it is effective in putting out the flames. Staggering around, Hawk says, “We gotta have air, security bail out boys!” Dropping their spent extinguishers, guys are diving for windows and doors. Wobbling to the side door with tears streaming down their faces from the cloud of powder, Hawk and the Gimp crash through the door. With clouded vision Hawk sees black forms emerging from the corn about twenty feet away. As the Gimp wipes his eyes he spots them also and at the same time, Millie lets loose another flaming arrow. “FIRE DEMON, FIRE DEMON!” screams Gimp. “He’s brung his family too, run for it Hawk!” Gimp takes off as fast as his bum leg will let him go. Myrtle, armed with a garden rake, raises it over her head and takes aim. Looking like an Olympic javelin thrower, she lets the rake fly. As the Gimp leads with his good leg, the rake goes between them. Legs tangled up in the rake, Gimp goes head over heels. Arms raised in triumph, Myrtle shouts, “Gotcha, ya little weasel.” “I’m done for Hawk, save yourself” whimpers Gimp. As Hawk’s vision starts to clear, Martha walks up and says, “Well, well, now just how long did you think it would be before your little den of sin was discovered huh?” Hawk, with a stunned look on his face exclaims, ”Martha? Is that you?” Meanwhile, Tootsie’s commandos have rounded up several of the heathens that tried to escape out the back windows. Lenny and Paddy are leading the line of tied up escapees. Millie, slinking among the shadows, mumbles, “Where ya at Manny.” Leaping thru the door with her .44, Millie takes a combat stance, “Come out Manny!” Following behind Millie is Mavis. “He’s got away Millie, saw him beating through the corn.” Scowling, Millie says, “Next time Manny, next time.” As Mavis and Millie exit the club, Tootsie inquires, “Millie! Did ya find the floozies, magazines or dirty movies?” Looking dejected, Millie says “Nope, not a thing, not a single shred of evidence.” As Millie’s commandos look at each other quizzically, Martha asks Hawk, “What’s this all about and don’t even think about trying to cover up.” “Sweetums, it is, or was, just a chess club, honest” Hawk says sheepishly. “No floozies?” asks Martha. “Nope.” “No gambling or any of those other things we’ve heard about?” asks Martha. “Nope.” “Girls, untie these good men” says Tootsie, “We have misjudged these poor guys.” “Can you ever forgive us for mistrusting you?” Myrtle says with head hung down. “Awww, it’s OK” says Hawk as he gives Martha a peck on the cheek. “Hey! Anybody seen Spike?” Gimp asks. “I just passed the port-a-potty and heard someone in there” said Tootsie. “I knocked and all he said was, “Far out dude”” “Yup, that’s Spike” grins Lenny. From a distance, an “eeeeeeyowwwwwww” is faintly heard. “What was that?” says Gimp trembling. “Sounded like Manny to me Gimp” says Hawk. Millie’s eyes light up. Drawing her .44 and striding off in the direction of the scream, Millie says, “He’s mine, the pie smasher.” Mavis turns to the girls, “ I think we’ve done enough for one night ladies, let’s head home.” “We’re gonna stay for a bit and clean this up” says Hawk. “Ok, I’ll see you later” Martha says. As the “commandos” are walking back to their cars, “Hey Mavis.” “Ya Tootsie?” “What ya think, do you think they were tipped off ?” “Not sure but we’ll keep our eyes and ears open!” “Hey Hawk, did ya see that Mavis all decked out in camo?” grins Gimp, “Wow!” “Hey!! I heard that Gimp” Manny shouts (he’s reappeared from wherever he was hiding.) “She did look good huh?” he snickers. Manny strolls up to Hawk, “Did ya hide the evidence Hawk?” “Got it covered Manny” whispers Hawk. “Where’d ya hide the stuff ?” “Next to the port-a-potty.” “Jeese Hawk, all of it?” “Most of it anyway, twenty seven bags of chips, a hundred and eighty two peanut cluster bars, two cases of ju-ju beans, one case of big-beef-bean burritos and two bottles of Wild Bill’s Hot Sauce.” “Good job Hawk, if they had found our stash, we’d be goners for sure” says Manny. “Ya, that was a close one, huh?” “Hey guys, let’s call it a night, OK?” says Hawk. With Mann’s Chess Divan now just a smoldering heap, the would-be secret chess society packs up and heads for home. Well dear readers, such are the events that took place that fateful night, I dare say that Manns Chess Divan will be resurrected, but that is another story.
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