Friday, March 7, 2014

Regan Recommends - Better Mardi Gras Gifts

Regan Worth
So, our adventure was a Fat Tuesday party on the A. Neon Mud Imp. I thought they'd dismantled her long ago, but it turns out she'd just been sitting in a dock.

It was strange to be back on board the casino boat where Caprice wreaked havoc so many years ago and it was nothing like that night. You've read that story, right? If you haven't you should. It's told in High Rollers -- the only Dime Store Novel so far that I'm in.

Not a single ghost in sight, which was odd considering the boat is something of a ghost ship, rising from the dead and all, at least that's how I look at it. Maybe I just missed them. I was pretty busy drinking and dancing. Of course, Hanover spent all night at the dice table. But who cares? These days you don't need a man to dance with and I'm all for that. Hanover can be a stick-in-the-mud about dancing.

Hanover's mask
Like all Mardi Gras parties, everyone was decked out in green, red, and gold. I wore a beaded gold dress that came just above my knees. The gold was accented by red roses down one side. My mask matched my dress, of course, except the roses were real instead of jeweled. It also had peacock feathers.

Hanover work a silver mask like this one.

We drank champagne with strawberries and snacked on all kinds of food. My favorite was the jalapenos stuffed with red caviar dip.

Around midnight, they brought out the cakes. I chose a chocolate one decorated with a pretty mask. I bit it and this gooey yummy cherry filling oozed out. I got it all over my lips and down my chin. I laughed so hard I nearly swallowed the baby. Yes, for the first time ever, I was the lucky one who found the baby.  I spit it out of all that red goo.

Hanover was all grossed out. He said, "All that red goo on it looks like blood. Someone didn't think that through."

I thought it was pretty funny. "Maybe they did it on purpose. You know, to add some realism."

Hanover scowled. "You'd better go wash up so you can claim your prize."

So I went to the ladies' room to wash my face. That monkey picture next to the door scared the bejezus out of me, no pun intended. It's like it was watching me. Of course, I know it wasn't. Well, I know that now. At the time, I told Hanover about it and he said, "I think you've had enough champagne."

I said, "Whatever."

He said, "Aren't you going to claim your gift?"

I said, "Of course I am." So I took the little plastic baby up to the cashier's cage and they handed me a velvet box. I figured jewelry, right? So I took it back to Hanover and I opened it. It's just some gold stick pin with the casino's logo -- an imp that looks just like that dumb monkey. It isn't even  real gold. It's plastic. Seriously? They could at least give out the genuine article. Next year we're spending Fat Tuesday somewhere else.