Part 1 (of a more-than-likely Two Part Series)

"Sultan Katz's Bar-be-Kyoo" was a nice sized shack a few dozen miles clear of the strip malls and sameness of suburban Louisiana . The history of it is as follows:

A few years ago, a young man found himself in the Israeli Special Forces doing covert ops and undercover nuclear weapons smuggling. His immaculate professionalism, exquisite ruthlessness, and wonderfully coiffured beard earned him the moniker of the Sultan, even though he was 100 percent Jewish. Trained by the greatest strategic minds of the mid 1980's, he was a consummate gentleman with amazing command over the English language (save for phonetics, which is why the venue above is spelled thusly).

One day, as it goes, Sultan was in a dusty bar in Cairo , unwinding after a fairly spectacular assassination of an oil baron (which was accomplished using only four feet of twine and six Ninja Stars of

David). He looks up from the bar and notices a flick playing on the screen--an average sized, lithe figure beating the holy tar out of a crew of ruffians. He sits, enthralled. He hears a hushed mutter from over his shoulder.

A young man in aviator glasses sips a Bud between reciting lines of the film in perfect Arabic. Katz speaks up.

"Excuse me, young sir. What is this we are watching? You seem to know it."

"I have seen this film 43 times. You can say what you want about Lawrence of Arabia--I've only seen it twice. Not 43 times. Now you tell me what is better."

"Yes, I find that a very lovely film but just a bit overrated, now tell me--"

Rommel Busker hushed him with a slight wave of his hand. He pointed to the dusty 12" Zenith screen perched precariously over the bar.

"People should try to live their lives like Him, if only a bit. World might get cleaned up a little. Let's keep watching."

And so they watched. They got to talking afterwards, the film changing Katz's entire views on life, politics, and practical combat techniques. They exchanged numbers. The Sultan blew up his base of operations and got on a red-eye to the states.

It's amazing what a few years and determination can get you. By the time Rommel and his good friend LL got around to visiting the Sultan, he found himself at an exact replica of the Double Deuce Bar. Before you ask, it's the old one--before the owner got around to cleaning it up.

Out back, the barbecue drums were welded into a giant, rib-cooking dragon. As a slab finished, the holy terror spurted jets of flame, birthing its pork-and-brimstone baby for the unsuspecting crowds. In his past life, the dragon had once been mighty, but less than grateful. Now it had to work in Food Service.

It should be mentioned that the "Kyoo" was the hottest rib joint in the southeast--figuratively and literally. Sultan even hired Jeff Healy to play behind chicken wire.*

LL, the Little Laotian (or Hop Chao as his mother called him, often) made a dash for the Galaga tabletop set in the corner. "Busk! This place has a righteous table over here, I'm fitt'na tweak it!" (It may be of use to know that LL spent his formative years raised in South Carolina ).

"Later, man." Rommel went over to the bar to greet the Sultan, wherein they engaged in a hearty Buddy Grip (being the modified handshake one uses when his friend is falling off of a cliff — the clasping of wrists to ensure safety. Utilizing this move would have spared us the film Cliffhanger).

"Mister Brother Busker!! I am very glad to see you. Allow me to introduce you to Julie, my wife." Katz shouted her name and a lovely, well-built woman backflipped from the table on which she was dancing. Sauntering over, she offered her hand for Rommel to kiss. He accepted, smoothly.

"You're exactly as I'd imagined," she said.

"And Kelly Lynch wasn't all that, anyway. Katz, you salty dog."

Sultan grinned. "Yes, when a man's dreams are scorched by the heat of the desert, his obsessions are all that remain. Who knew that my love for one film would determine the rest of my life? Julie is not only a seasoned actress, but also an incredible stuntwoman. I cannot tell you how much we are saving by not hiring bouncers. I had overestimated the average American in their fighting skills."

"Maybe you should take a run with me sometime, if you're looking for something to get into."

"I will have to take you up on that offer, my man. What will you have?" The Sultan, after studying many barbecue shacks for many years, had figured out exactly what every great place needs, and it all boiled down to this:

-Ice cold root beer, kept refrigerated by a red Coleman cooler and/or a barrel,

-Various types of cakes and desserts above the back counter, placed on mini styrofoam plates and saran-wrapped,

-A decent Midway arcade,

-And a poster of Bruce Lee, placed above either the water fountain or next to the dry-erase menu.

Rommel ordered the Light Snack Sandwich Special, which consisted of about a quarter slab of ribs with a piece of white bread (now dark red from the hearty amount of sauce) on the top and bottom. Sides consisted of mac & cheese, and he ordered an extra cup of baked beans, into which dashed a healthy amount of Tabasco .

LL sprung up from underneath the tabletop.

"Uh, we gotta problem here, chief! I don't mean to alarm anybody, but this tabletop has some pretty gnarly A.I. hardwired into the ROM set. Now uhm...I may only have a doctorate in this kinda shit, but it looks like somethin's about to go off here."

Busker sucked this thumb clean and wiped his hands with the complimentary lemon-scented moist towelette. With a deadly serious tone he looked Sultan right in the eyes and said "Kahn, this is the best damned barbecue that I have ever had in my entire life — Mazel Tov. Excuse me." He picked up the extra side of beans and walked across the dancefloor to the Galaga machine.

LL had just begun a game. One of the comely waitresses had begun to mop his brow with a napkin as he concentrated on the intensifying action. "Busk! So, okay--this thing has voice recognition. Says if I don't get to level 30, it will trigger 'stinger missiles from an undisclosed location.' This sucker is aware, man!!!"

Rommel sat down next to him and stirred the cup of beans with his plastic spork.

"I guess you'd better get your game face on, chief."

--To Be Continued in: "Polar Bear Fell on Me!"

*Jeff Healy, known as a frequent guest on the Arsenio Hall show as well as the film Road House, Is actually a blind samurai swordsman, not unlike the legend of Zatoichi. The hows and whys of his blindness and subsequent mastery of both guitar and blade are another story altogether.

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Next: ***COMING SOON***