No one knew how the rivalry started. Terrapin Crossroads and the Sweetwater Cafe had existed in harmony for years; the patio renovation pushed Bobby over the edge.
“We need a wave pool,” Bobby said.
So the Sweetwater busboys built a wave pool, and fewer of them drowned then was budgeted for, so it was a good day.
“Wave pool, eh? Fuckers,” Phil said. The man-made lake was dug within days, and then the bottom was dredged to form an artificial island in the shape of a Stealie in the middle of the lake. There’s probably a more efficient way to do that, but Phil is not an engineer.
“Is that his game?” thought Bobby, as he priced a zipline leading from the top of Mount Tamalpais to the women’s bathroom of Sweetwater. The bathroom thing was not Bobby’s idea, but–like Phil–he is not an engineer. If the guy in the hardhat says that the zipline finished up in the ladies room, then that’s how it goes.
“Bastard thinks he’s clever,” Phil muttered as the motorcycle Wheel of Death was installed, and then filled with busboys on Supercubs. (None of them even knew how to turn the choke to get the things started, which is good because all of them would have died. Phil would still not let them out of the Wheel of Death until it was time for the dinner service.)
“It’s New Year’s every night!”
“Mechanical bull at every table!”
“Illegal casino in the back!”
This went on; the authorities became involved.