Lenny

(Part 1) Lenny had spent most of his off-time the past year (and even some of his work time—shhh, don't tell his boss) designing and building his dream vehicle. Now his dream had finally become reality. It was part helicopter, part automobile, and all sex appeal. And best of all, it ran on used cooking oil. The RD cafeteria was a gold mine for this, the cook (Claude) behind the grill who picks his teeth gave him vats of the dirty stuff, and all he wanted in return was a ride in the machine once it was safe and tested. Claude wanted to fly over Gladys's house, impress her, hop out of the hovering copter with a bouquet of roses and ask her to the upcoming Chappaqua Crossing Square Dance and Pig Roast. So Lenny made the deal, even though the copter only sat one (they'd cross that bridge when they came to it). Lenny fired up the engine now. It sputtered, farted out a smell of overcooked cheeseburgers and onion rings, then evened out into a nice, smooth little growl. Claude watched from the cafeteria window. Lenny's heart beat almost as loud as the copter blades as he eased the shifter into first gear. As a car, his machine could get up to 45 miles per hour, But once he engaged the blades, the car elevated. Stu ran after the car as it set off on its first trip. They were like the Wright brothers, but you know, not really. And they weren't brothers. At 45 MPH, Lenny pulled back on the lever. With a lurch, the vehicle rose; Lenny watch Stu recede as the copter got higher and higher. Claude's excited face was pressed up against the cafeteria window. But then, the smell of well-done fries ceased, and Lenny realized the engine had stalled...

(Part 2) Lenny frantically tried to re-start the engine. He pulled the choke and tried once more. The engine caught momentarily (Lenny getting a quick whiff of fried chicken cutlet), then it quit. The copter had hit its zenith, and he felt it hitch as it began its descent. His stomach lurched as if he were on a roller coaster. But this was no roller coaster--this was life and death. Or, more specifically--death. Lenny thought of his wife Jessica then, and his two kids. He looked down as saw Stu frantically waving his arms. The copter went down fast and crashed on the railroad tracks, disrupting train service for the rest of the day. Stu reached the crash site and knew there was no hope. He fell on his knees and screamed, shook his fist at the sky, and cursed the fates above. With tears streaming from his eyes, he vowed then and there to continue his best friend's work, to rebuild the copter better than Lenny had ever dreamed. But he also thought of Jessica, and her sudden single status...

(Part 3) Two weeks after Lenny's funeral, Stu was nearly done with version two of the RD Copter. Claude would come down to the garage every day after he closed up the grill to help out. Stu was Lenny's assistant, and now Stu had Claude. So he was still able to get the used cooking oil from the cafeteria to power the engine. "This is going to fly soon!" Stu said. "Yes, and now it is a two-seater, so I can get a ride, go visit Gladys," Claude said. "Yeah, sure," Stu said. Stu couldn't wait to take Jessica for a ride, show her the fruits of his labor. He wondered how long she had to mourn before he could start courting her. But this was a dangerous undertaking—he knew the first test flight could be his last. He wanted the thing to fly, but he didn't want to die trying. What he needed was one of those space monkeys NASA sent into space to gauge the effects of space travel. If it blew up or crashed again, so be it. As Stu tinkered with the engine, Claude climbed into the pilot's seat and began to make helicopter sounds with his mouth: Thwap thwap thwap thwap!! Hmmm, Stu thought. Maybe I already have that monkey...

(Part 4) Claude was all strapped in and ready to go. Stu, standing ten feet away, gave him the thumbs up. Claude was excited, and honored to be allowed to take the first flight in the new copter. It almost brought a tear to his eye, that Stu would think so highly of him. So he felt kind of bad that he was going to abscond with the copter and fly over to Gladys's house. But all's fair in love and war. The Chappaqua Crossing Square Dance, Pig Roast and Lenny Memorial was coming up quick, and Claude needed a date. He started the engine. "I smell French fries!" he said excitedly. Stu just nodded; he hadn't heard a word Claude said. Claude pulled back on the lever, and the copter lifted into the air. Thwap thwap thwap! He bagan to fly, fast, and he could see Stu running after him down below. But soon Claude had flown over the building, and was now heading south over the newly completed Saw Mill River Parkway. Man, he thought, seeing the river alongside the new blacktop, I bet that thing is going to flood when it rains. The copter was flying nice and smooth, no stalling or stuttering like poor Lenny had. He'd be at Gladys's in no time, and get back to RD before Stu was too worried. Unfortunately for Claude, American citizens—not to mention the government—were still a little jumpy about UFOs, especially after the Roswell Incident. Local citizens called the police, and the police called Camp Smith in Peekskill. Fighter jets were scrambled, and within minutes, copter #2 was on the ground in the left lane of the southbound Saw Mill River Parkway, a fiery ball of metal and Claude. It smelled like deep-fried chicken wings. Traffic on the parkway was snarled for three hours. Stu stood with hands on hips, watching the plume of smoke rise from down south. Without a word, he turned back to the garage and went back to the drawing board. Literally. He picked up his t-square, and said to the photo of Jessica taped to the wall, "Third time is a charm, Jess."

(Part 5) Stu was pulling fourteen hour days to finish Copter #3 in time for the Chappaqua Crossing Square Dance, Pig Roast, and Lenny and Claude Memorial. Lorenzo stopped by the garage to deliver Stu's mail, and to console him about the second crash. "The new copter looks good," Lorenzo said, sticking his head into the cockpit. "You should have put in a back seat though, if you know what I mean." Stu laughed. Lorenzo said, "I can help you, if you need me. I'm moving from the mailroom to the grill, so I can get the used cooking oil for you again." "That's great!" Stu said. "I can really use the help." "Great! Except the copter, she is going to smell different now—like eggplant parmigiana, fried meatballs, stuffed artichoke." Stu's stomach rumbled, and he realized he had missed lunch. Lorenzo heard it and said, "I'll run up to the cafeteria and get you lunch. They're trying one of my recipes today." "Thanks," Stu said, then went back to work. Meanwhile, Jessica was shopping for a new dress for Lenny's upcoming memorial at RD. Something black and conservative. But not TOO conservative. Stu was picking her up and taking her there, and she wanted to look attractive. He was cute and all, but what she really wanted to get her hands on were the helicopter blueprints. After all, that was Lenny's baby. It was rightfully hers...

(Part 6) After the service, Stu and Jessica walked back to Stu's garage. The pig roast had started, but Jessica didn't feel it was appropriate to party right after the memorial. And anyway, Stu had a surprise to show her. Hopefully she could poke around and find the blueprints. Stu made her close her eyes, then he lifted the garage door and said, "Ta da!" She opened her eyes and saw Copter #3 sitting there like some exotic, overgrown fly, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. The windows were tinted, making it look even more like an insect. "What the..." she said. "When did you...?" "I've been working on it day and night, just for you!" Stu said. "For me?" "Yes, for you!" Stu couldn't help himself. He was drunk with love, as well as the five screwdrivers he had at the square dance. This caused him to blurt out--quite unexpectantly--"I LOVE you Jessica!" Jessica was taken aback. Maybe it was the loneliness talking, or maybe the four Manhattans she had at the square dance, but she replied, "I love you TOO, my little Stu coo ca choo!*" (*Not to be confused with the Beatles lyric Goo goo g' joob, which came over a dozen years later.) "Let's go for a ride!" Stu said. "Is it safe?" "Sure, Lorenzo tested it earlier today." They climbed onto the running board, and when Stu flung open the pilot-side door, they saw Martin and Ethel inside, locked in a passionate, libidinous, scantily-clad embrace...

(Part 7) "Milton, how dare you! And with my assistant's wife, no less!" Stu yelled. "It's Martin, you idiot, not Milton." "Milton, Martin, whatever, get out of my cockpit!" "I can buy and sell you," Martin sneered, climbing down. "What is that supposed to mean?" Stu said. "It means, I can build my own helicopter, better than this one! Doesn't even have a backseat! And it smells like pepperoni in there!" Ethel had climbed down too, and was looking around nervously as she buttoned up her blouse. "Don't worry, we just left your husband Lorenzo back at the pig roast," Stu said. "Oh, Enzo!" Ethel cried, and bolted off into the night. "Get out of my garage!" Stu said. Martin calmly put his tie back on, tightened the knot. "This is war now, you know," he said, then turned and left. "Well, that was weird," Jessica said. "This whole place is turning into a soap opera, I swear," Stu said. "As the Pegasus Flies," Jessica said, and they both began to giggle. Stu helped Jessica up into Copter #3, and then he hopped in after her. "Wow," she said. "It's so much bigger than Lenny's!" "I took his plans and doubled them, so I could fit a passenger seat." Stu fired up the engine; it smelled like chicken cacciatore. He worked the levers smoothly, and soon they were in the air, hovering over the RD campus, the raucous pig roast below them. Jessica reached over and held Stu's hand. If the copter was going to crash, this would be a good way to die, he thought. He'd worry about Martin another time.