Late one night. At a party taking place at Mortimer Butterfield’s mansion, celebrating the release of a new sweet. Lots of guests. Bright lights. Bright floor. Trouble brewing.
Mr. Ratherquite and his Ladies were on their way to intercept Mortimer, when Ruber intentionally stepped in their way.
“Well, well,” he said, “if it’s not Mr. Ratherquite.”
Mr. Ratherquite raised an eyebrow. “And the Ladies,” he added.
Ruber laughed. “They count for nothing but your private toadies, eh?”
“Sir!” Mr. Ratherquite scolded as the ladies both gasped. “You should not insult so—especially in front of ladies.”
“I see no ladies,” Ruber said, looking about. Then he leaned menacingly close and poked Mr. Ratherquite in the chest. “Just wanted to tell you that I’ve been observing you from afar all night, and that I can’t stand you or your ways, eh?”
Mr. Ratherquite bit his lower lip and was trembling. “You…YOU!” He quickly drew off his white glove and slapped Ruber across the face. “I, sir, challenge you to a duel at once!”
Suddenly, all eyes at the party were on them, and Ruber tried to back down. He wasn’t nervous about fighting Mr. Ratherquite. No, Ruber was concerned about the publicity of such an event.
“Listen, I’m sorry, Mr. Ratherquite,” he began quickly in a quiet voice, “didn’t mean anything by it. Let’s let it go, eh?”
“No, sir!” Mr. Ratherquite said. “Not at all!”
The ladies giggled.
“Please,” Ruber tried.
“No!” Mr. Ratherquite was adamant. “You started this and you’ll finish it!”
“Yes, ya will, Ruber,” a voice rang out; and Daddy Salami walked over. “Ya will finish it, Ruber ole’ boy. And ya’ll teach this turtle-cur a lesson!” Salami laughed maliciously.
And Ruber smiled. “I got the proper backing now,” he said, looking at Mr. Ratherquite. “Still want to fight, eh?”
Mr. Ratherquite paled slightly.
“Hey!” Schwarz said, intervening, “I’ve seen the whole thing and your son was wrong, Daddy!”
Salami’s mouth dropped as he turned and looked Schwarz in the eye. “What’d ya call me, cur?!”
“I called you by your name, Daddy.”
Salami laughed and turned towards Ruber. “Me son, ya got another person on your list ta kill tonight. Hehaha.”
Ruber nodded. “Yeah.”
At that moment, Mortimer Butterfield strolled over.
“What is going on here?” he asked. “Hmm?”
“These two here,” Mr. Ratherquite said, pointing to Ruber and Salami, “aren’t gentlemen at all! They were insulting the Ladies!”
Both ladies giggled and Mortimer looked at them warily.
“Oh. Well, Mr. Ratherquite, you must get used to such happenings when you walk around with such ugly females.”
Mr. Ratherquite was greatly taken aback. “YOU…” he sputtered.
The Ladies were in shock.
“I just…don’t know…” Schwarz added.
Mr. Ratherquite breathed in deeply. “Come, ladies, let us leave. We won’t stay in a place with such un-gentlemanly gentlemen!”
And then they left.
Mortimer smiled. “If I knew it would’ve been that easy to get rid of him, I would have employed that technique much sooner.”