"The Best Chocolate Soda in the Whole Wide World!"

By Jim 'zilch' Doty

"Scribbly!"

"Scribbly Jibbet!! Get your keister back in here!"

........Scribbly was seeing his last customers ( a police detective and his cute teenaged daughter ) out as the last customers of the evening, when he heard the bellowing of his new boss blowing like the November winds trying to find their way into the now-deserted candy store. He turned and locked behind him, and raced back to the counter where Mr. Foxmeyer was fixing up two large glasses.

........Sheldon "Shelly" Foxmeyer, of the "legendary" Shelly's Soda Fountain and Candies was preparing two large draws off the soda tap. He sat down on the bar stool, in anticipation of one of Shelly's fabulous, famous over the five boroughs, All-Star Chocklit Soda. Where the average soda might cost a dime or even a quarter, Shelly's were so good he charged fifty cents, and never heard a word of complaint after the first drink. Business was always good, and during the summer... well, it never hurt to know someone with a booth at Shelly's. Scrib started to work for Mr. Foxmeyer a couple of weeks ago, and felt a bit of pride in the fact that he didn't hire just ANYBODY to work for him. It was a source of pride in the kids to be picked to wait on tables or help clean up at Shelly's. He paid 50 cents an hour and some kids even kept their jobs while going to college!

........"Hey, you ain't done yet, young man!" Shelly pushed the platter with the two chocolate sodas towards the bushy haired youth with the coke bottle glasses. "Now, I needs you to take care of the back parlour while I gets ready for tommorrow's early shift."

........"B-But sir! Everyone's gone home! Who..."

........"Never you mind who! Now, I need for you to keep it on the QT, okay, Scrib? Some of my customers like to makes like normal people once in a while, and I help 'em out, so I needs for you to keep your little trap shut, okay?" Shelly gave a nod and a wink while wiping his hands on the bar rag. "Now, go serve our guests and dont make a pain of yourself."

........Grabbing up the drinks, Scribbly moved to the "Parlour", where people often reserved the back hall for bar mitzvahs, wakes, first communion parties and wedding receptions. Backing through the door, he wondered who might be there... movie stars, ball players, The President... or even...?

........ As Scribbly turned around, he saw two men seated very casually at the far booth. One he knew instantly, as he was a proud member of the Fair Play Club ( Chapter # 6 ) as "The Man of a Thousand Talents" Mr. Terrific! Even under the streamlined green waistcoat, Scrib could tell he was really built. But no where near the other occupant of the booth. Dressed in a black body suit with a cathead mask, it could only be the mystery man known as Wildcat! Wow! Two mystery men! And him without his drawing pad!! Somewhat hesitantly, Scrib moved towards the two. Waving furiously, Wildcat indicated he needed him to bring those chocolate sodas as if he was dying of thirst.

........"...and so, I knew that the code wasn't in Russian, but in German and that Ivar was in the clear! He was being blackmailed to help the spies since his family was being held hostage!" Mr. Terrific leaned back and smiled, waiting for Wildcat to put it all together.

........"Yeah! What better way to go around the country then undercover as a boxing trainer, and..." Wildcat turned and smiled at the young artist/waiter. "We was just comparin' notes on a case that we just cleaned up... seems we were both after the same guys, only for different reasons!"

........"Ummm... could I ask you fellas a question?" Scribbly nervously looked down and shuffled his feet. "Sure, son... what is it?" Mr. Terrific leaned forward and took a long draw off the straw in the chocolate soda. "MMMMMM!!! This is good!" "See? What'd I tellya?!" Wildcat leaned back, with a satisfied chessire-cat grin playing under his feline hood. "Sorry, son... you were asking...?" The two mystery men both drew up a generous portion of the fine cocoa brew.

........"...Well, me and the guys were wondering why you fellas aren't in the Justice Society? I mean, they even have Johnny Thunder in there! And..."

........Wildcat leaned forward. "Well, nobody's asked me... I've only been doing this mystery man thing fer a couple of months now... its not like I have a big rep like The Flash or th' Lantern or anything..." "And I'm based out on the Coast, and it seems like the majority of the Society are East Coasters. And I may be the "Man of a Thousand Talents", but I'm still only a man, not some mystic like Doctor Fate or... whatever The Spectre is..." Mr. Terrific was quiet for a moment, remembering stories he'd heard about him as he supressed a shiver.

........A loud crash of rubbish cans clattered in the alley, accompanied by yelling, bringing Mr. Terrific back to the here-and-now. "Awww Jeez! I hope Mr. Foxmeyer is okay... those Tortolinni Brothers might be back again!" "Who are they?" "Protection racketeers! They've been after Mr F. for months now... and they said they're going to start turning up the heat..."

........Springing to their feet, both men raced out towards the back hallway to the alley behing the Soda Shop. Opening the door, they found three gangster types stuffed in amusing, yet painful positions inside several garbage cans and the yellow caped, red underwear wearing hero climbing up a fire escape.

........"Wowie Kazowie! Its The Red Tornado!" Scribbly swings at the air, feinging punches, acting out the brief struggle in a second in his fervent imagination."Well, 'Cat, looks like the line for the Justice Society forms behind that guy.... why don't we go have another of those wonderful chocolate sodas while we're waiting for the membership committee to call?" Mr. Terrific cocked his head and smiled at his friends. "But I think the next round's on you, Terrif'...!"

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