a taste of pizza
.... yes! we ♥ pizza. Up ahead! an art show about pizza at the hippest pizza joint in the Thrill! ooh yeeaah....
here's a teeny bite out of what we made.....
mmmmm. gimme more.
written by: Jboncales
illustrated by: Nashonte Hill
colored by: Nico Boncales
If you are into glitz and glam, you probably have heard of the The Mark Hotel. Five star hotel in Manhattan, place of residence by some of Hollywood's Finest Elite stars.
Moi, myself and I, aren't so into following the trend of coolness, so sometimes I end up in five star places with the most eccentric crowd.
The eccentric crowd on one particular spring day was this guy I picked up from the side of the street name Marceau M. Marceau M. looks like Moliere sans the french moustache. When he gets on a roll, he is unstoppable and ridiculously animated, you just want to throw rotten tomatoes at him. Nothing but rotten tomatoes is appropriate for Marceau, since he converses with highly educated jargon, combined with a certain senselessness and exquisitely refined taste that emulates aristocratic elitism to perfection.
For some reason, he agreed to be my art performance partner (I suspected because he confessed that he wanted to convince me to perform "free love" on the streets with him. He saw Rubbishriot Unplugged as a way to finagle me into becoming a longterm art partner, with the hopes of getting thrown in jail performing overt acts of "free love".... ).
Meanwhile we performed on top of Delacorte's Alice in Wonderland, me, as Alice performing tea time with the children, and Marceau coming to life as the madhatter screaming inanities about petroleum to a crowd of very displeased parents. Afterwards, I felt the need to use the restroom.
He says, "you cannot possibly want to use the restroom in the Park! How degoutante!" So he leads me to the most exotic of five star hotels, The Mark Hotel. We walked in to this refined establishment as if we owned the place, and I believe he told the bellboy to hold his dog while he speaks to the manager about his nonexistent luggage.
Shortly thereafter, while I was in the restroom, he gets into a verbal argument with the xtra-large hotel manager. When I returned, they were outside, with Marceau M being pushed out the door without physically being manhandled. So Marceau M, who is rather small, placed his head on this manager's chest to attempt to push him back inside. The hotel manager has absolutely no idea what to do because according to policy, in order to prevent a lawsuit one must not confront anyone physically. And so the manager says, "you don't know who I am!" and the Marceau goes: "well, you don't know who I am!" This scenario and line repetition went on for several minutes until they both noticed my presence. Then in a most ladylike manner, I said, "Excuse us please."
The Hotel Manager says gallantly, "Mademoiselle, my apologies."
And off we went, with Marceau sputtering about how rude some people are.
I called Marceau M several weeks later and he tells me he was unable to join me for my other performances because unfortunately he was in jail... most likely, I suspect, on charges of public disturbance or disorderly conduct...I'm curious if he performed acts of "free love" by himself.