Bit o' Nifty

Fame and Fortune

During the guys' night out last Friday, the technogeek aka Toadking aka AJ pushed the poet and me to get our own domain hosted on one of the servers scattered about his house like peanut shells on a tavern floor.

"Fame and fortune," he insisted, leaning across the table, peering intently at us. At first we thought the intense gaze meant he had spotted another nifty bit of eye candy he intended to claim for his third of the world. But a quick survey assured us this was not the case.

"Fame?" the poet asked.

"Fortune?" I asked.

Leaning back on his bar stool, an action that almost caused him to topple over, the Toadking allowed himself a smirk. "Fame and fortune."

The poet and I exchanged a quick glance. This was something new. We were suspicious. Yet another attempt to get us back for pressing the incredibly crappy Master of the Five Magics on him years before? It was possibly the worst novel ever written, but we'd taken great delight in praising it to high heaven when presenting him a copy.

The poet lit up a Winston, took a long drag, and pondered. That seemed the appropriate response, so I did the same. "Well, now," the poet said.

I waited for the follow up, but he said nothing. Some poet.

The Toadking looked leisurely around the pub. He took a sip from his beer and grabbed a salty pretzel.

I couldn't resist. "How can getting our own web site bring us fame and fortune?" I asked. "You got one and you aren't exactly rolling in the babes and bucks."

He just smiled and made a throaty sound: Vroooom. His new motorcycle! A cream and green Honda Shadow, a bit of heaven the poet and I had lusted over as soon as we'd seen it. Maybe there was something to the fortune part, if not the fame.

We were hooked. Sighing, the poet said, "OK, let's hear it."

And he told us.