Mal's Brunchtime Conspira-Sea! Episode 4: Rojo Lobster vs The Great White

"Are we rolling?"

"Yeah, I think so"

"Pete, the lens cap is on."

(Mallory Montana abruptly rips the lens cap off of Cameraman Pete's camera and plunges the viewer into the harsh light of day. So harsh, the camera even has to adjust to get a shot of the now packed to the gills parking lot of the Rojo Lobster.)

Cameraman Pete: Wow, this place really is booming with business.

Mallory Montana: Yeah, I said that as we walked over the hill from where we parked after we circled the place six times looking for a parking space.

Cameraman Pete:...

Mallory Montana: Did you not take any of that in because you were peering through a turned off camera with it's lens cap still on?

Cameraman Pete: ...

Mallory Montana: You're not allowed to drive the van anymore, now keep up AV monkey!

(Mallory pushes her way through the crowded triple-file line leading out of the restaurant and around it's sidewalk. Pete follows close behind, reluctantly apologizing under his breath for his colleague as he tries to keep up with the petite vegan anchor. Finally, after a long trek through a tunnel made out of hungry bodies, the two emerge inside the restaurant's foyer. They take in their surroundings in awe as artistic abstract paintings of crabs in sombreros line the wall above the lobster tank. Adjacent to the tank stands a busy looking thirty-something year old woman behind the maitre d podium with a purple pixie cut, a black band pierced through one nostril, a monroe stud through her opposing cheek, and a black dress that looks like it came from a late 90's Hot Topic. Mallory pushes the patron in front of her out of the way and greets the maitre d with her put-on Hollywood smile.)

Mallory Montana: Hi there! How are you doing today?

Maitre D: Well I'm at a loss for words if I'm honest with you miss. Ironically, that was my opening line to most conversations that go on at this podium.

Cameraman Pete: That's not really iron-

Mallory Montana: Hey Pete, is this the girl you talked to?

Cameraman Pete: Oh sorry. Uhhh, no. No it is not.

Mallory Montana: Hmmm, interesting. Say, would you happen to know the other hostesses name who works here?

Maitre D: I'm the only hostess on staff ma'am.

Mallory Montana: I see...well who trained you? Like, who was here before you got the job.

Maitre D: This has always been my job ma'am. Ever since the restaurant opened I've worked here up front. It's kinda ironic that your friend thinks otherwise.

Cameraman Pete: Yeaaaahhhh that's not irony either, but-

Mallory Montana: Listen lady, I can see you've got a lot on your plate here with this being rush hour and all, but I need you to think before you start answering my questions instead of just opening that millennial gob of yours and spouting out 'ironic'.

Maitre D: Well isn't this the ironies of ironies?

Cameraman Pete: I doubt it...

Maitre D: Miss I am one of the founding manager here, and I'm pretty sure you're also a millennial. Duh...

Cameraman Pete: Okay, that one is sort of ironic.

Mallory Montana: PETE! SHUT UP! What about Paul? Is Manager Paul here?

Maitre D: Pfft. Manager Paul? We don't have a manager named Paul here. It's just me and my partner Theo. We opened the Rojo Lobster ourselves after we heard this Wrestleworld Island place was open to promoting Mom n' Pop businesses instead of relying on corporate interlopers. Theo and I, I'm Magda by the way-

Mallory Montana: Of course you are-

Magda: -we came here to open the Rojo Lobster and sell seafood/Tex-Mex fusion. We call it Si Food. We're from Austin-

Mallory Montana: -Of course you are-

Magda: -and we thought it'd be not only ironic to move to a place called Wrestleworld when neither of us watch wrestling, but also name our Si Food joint after Red Lobster...again...Ironically.

(Both women turn and look at Pete, seemingly for confirmation if any of this passes for irony.)

Cameraman Pete:...What?

Magda: We also thought it'd be ironic if we sold everything from the ocean except crabs, and then make a crab our mascot.

Cameraman Pete: I guess that sorta works.

Mallory Montana: Hold up...your mascot? Whose your mascot?

(Magda reaches down beside her podium and grabs the top menu off of a pile of others and holds it up proudly to reveal a photo-realistic sketch of a crab in a sombrero with bullet bandoleers hanging from it's body while holding a maraca in one claw and an uzi in the other.)

Magda: Senor Pinchy!

Mallory Montana: Woooow.

Magda: Theo said the irony would cancel out the cultural appropriation.

Cameraman Pete: I'm not so sure about that...

Mallory Montana: So you guys came up with Pinchy?

Magda: My partner Theo did a few years before coming to the island. We started in a food truck in Austin, but health and safety became an issue real quick. We weren't exactly near a fresh supply of seafood, and we learned the hard way that our food truck's freezer turned off when the truck did. We came here to Wrestleworld hoping for a fresh start with a new home base and a healthy supply of seafood.

Cameraman Pete: Now that's a cruel irony.

Magda: Tell me about it. Thankfully someone warned us that the water's contaminated here before we opened up shop and bought a schooner. We have to outsource our seafood. It's probably for the best though. I detest physical labor and he has a tendency to get motion sickness. I don't think we were cut out for a life at sea.

Mallory Montana:...and Sr. Pinchy was your brain child...I heard you the first time, I'm just...I'm trying to wrap my head around that.

Magda: Yeah, ain't it cute?

Mallory Montana: No. It's quite offensive actually, or at least that thing on the menu is. Do you guys have like...I don't know? Pinchy appearances?

Magda: Oh yeah! Every day during brunch. As a matter of fact, I think he should be showing up any minute now.

(Magda coyly smiles as she makes eye contact with one of her busy waiters and gives them a wink and a tug of the ear. The exhausted wait staffer drops what they're doing and rushes to the back. Meanwhile, Magda, Pete, and Mallory stand silently at the front of the store. Mallory looks around the room, as if searching for an answer to this baffling series of events. Magda stands trembling excitedly behind her podium, her black fingernails rapping against the podium's surface in antsy anticipation. After the long confusing pause, a man suddenly bursts out from the back in a monstrous foam and felt crab costume with a sombrero with eye holes covering his head to complete the illusion.)

"Senor. Pinchy": HOLA!

Customers in Unison: HOLA SENOR PINCHY!

"Senor Pinchy": Are you folks thirsty?

Customers in Unison: YEAH!

"Senor Pinchy": Well Pinchy has the remedy for that! Pabst Azul Ribbon on the house!

(There's a murmur of a mixed reaction as the awkwardly built "Pinchy" makes his way to the front of the restaurant and into it's foyer, where Magda lifts off it's sombrero to reveal tortoise shell frames and a Eurotrash faux hawk with purple frosted tips that match the maitre d's hair. As Magda lifts the sombrero, she plants an affectionate kiss on the bespectacled and blushing man's pointy chin and then holds her arms out, as if to present him like some sort of emo Vanna White.)

Magda: I present to you Senor Pinchy,

Mallory Montana: I deduce you're Theo?

Theo: Yeah. Oh wow, you have a camera guy and stuff! Is this some sort of like video island brochure?

Magda: No silly! I think they're here to sell us more commercial time.

Theo: Ugh, not this ponzi scheme again. Listen, we told the creepy guy at the UHF station that we didn't want any more commercials ran.

Mallory Montana: Wait, commercials?

Magda: URRGH! Yeah, I forgot about that! Some weird lanky dude came in a couple of years ago and offered us a free commercial spot if we gave them a meal on the house.

Mallory Montana: That doesn't sound like a bad deal.

Theo: It wasn't until he started making more without our permission whenever he was peckish and then came in expecting the most expensive things on the menu. That and our Queso Bay Biscuits, which were ironically free anyway.

Cameraman Pete: I'll allow it.

Magda: We told him that wasn't part of the original deal (not that we signed anything), and he got mad when we refused him free service.

Theo: Magda threw him out one time, and the next week the guy was making commercials with a hulking hostess named Brandi or Sandy or something and-

Cameraman Pete: What?!

Magda: I know! That isn't even close to my name.

Theo: I threatened him with litigation for use of my intellectual property and the next week there's some stuffy manager named Paul...or...Pablo in the ads being terrorized with their shoddy interpretation of Pinchy.

Mallory Montana: Wait-

Magda: He didn't even have claws on his suit! He just ran around with his hands curled in a 'c', threatening to pinch Sandy and Pablo. Every week they'd try to catch him with Sandy's freak strength or Pablo's cunning gang of lawyers, but he'd always slip the traps. It literally turned into guerilla marketing AGAINST us personally. Thankfully it only aired at 1 AM during some cheapo horror host block.

Theo: Yeah, but ironically it did start bringing in more customers.

Magda: Yeah, that is kinda ironic.

Cameraman Pete: Doesn't sound too ironic but-

Magda: Hey, you mentioned Paul! You aren't with that Steve guy from the UHF station are ya? We really don't want any more trouble.

Mallory Montana: NO! No. We're actually investigating what I think might be your poorly conceived, purloined, Pinchy from the promotions.

Theo: That's alotta P's

Magda: Why are you after him?

Mallory Montana: Well, like you, he's sorta started to ruin our lives as well. I work for Wrestleworld as an on-screen interviewer...maybe still...I really don't know how secure my job is with this new regime...but anyway, Pinchy was someone I was always forced to interview.

Theo: Why?

Mallory Montana: Well, he's a wrestler now.

Magda: Oh ironic!

Cameraman Pete: A bootleg fusion seafood mascot wrestling in a company without it's wrestling hating creator's knowledge is sorta poetically unexpected...sure, why not call that ironic?

Mallory Montana: You said you didn't want any more trouble. Have the ads stopped?

Theo: Yeah, a little over a year ago they stopped running the smear campaign against us for some reason.

Cameraman Pete: The smear campaign against you personally that actually brought in more customers.

Magda: Yeah.

Cameraman Pete: I mean, if anything posited in this conversation was ironic it would be-

Mallory Montana: Shut up Pete! I wonder why they stopped running the ads around the same time Pinchy started wrestling.

Theo: Has he been taking potshots in wrestling talky segments or whatever they're called?

Mallory Montana: No. As a matter of fact, I don't think anything involving your smear campaign was brought up until he shot a promo inside of your restaurant after hours a few weeks ago with those actors portraying you.

Magda: They were in our restaurant after hours? Was that when our front window was smashed out a month ago?

Mallory Montana: Pete here was filming the whole thing.

Theo: WHAT?!

Cameraman Pete: Now-now hold on! Just-just wait a minute and listen to what I have to say before you like...sic your wife on me or whatever.

Theo: PARTNER!

Cameraman Pete: PARTNER! Partner...don't you think that having a Frankenstein's monster of your own creation destroying the literal infrastructure of your restaurant from the inside is sooooorta ironic....?

(The couple look at one another, and then back at Pete. They give meek shrugs, obviously not totally convinced that they have a full grasp on what the word irony means despite using it so much, which in the most futile way is the most ironic thing about these people.)

Theo: Okay, you get a pass this time.

Mallory Montana: If you're not going to kick us out, why not give us a table and set us up with some of those on the house Pabst Blue Ribbons? Maybe a vegan menu...

Magda: We would, but the place is packed with seniors today.

Mallory Montana:...Seniors?

Theo: Oh yeah, it's Senor's Seniors Saturday. Anyone over 60 who comes in before 12 o'clock for lunch gets one free.

Mallory Montana: Ya get any...uhm...celebrities in here?

Magda: Just one.

(Magda glances over not-so-subtly toward a lone celebrity picture hanging on the wall. Mallory's eyes fill with dread at the sight of Betty White's framed and signed eight-by-ten. Without hesitation, Mallory swiftly turns, snaking Pete's arm and starts pulling him toward the exit.)

Mallory Montana: Pete we gotta go.

Cameraman Pete: M-Mallory! We're out of leads.

Mallory Montana: I know, but if we stick around here any longer I'm going to end up on a lead pulling senile Betty White behind me on some sorta dog sled or something.

Cameraman Pete: What?

Mallory Montana: SHE'S CRAZY AND TRYING TO KILL ME PETE!

Cameraman Pete: I know! but I thought this investigation was worth risking everything for. You've put your career, your sanity, your sleep schedule, and your freedom to walk into Eden for interviews without getting side eyed by the help on the line. Why not at least stick around long enough to get the next lead.

"HEY!"

(The two freeze dead in their tracks, Mallory lowering her head as she clearly accepts her soon to come hideous fate. Instead of a blue haired Golden Girl, Pete spots the purple headed Magda wading her way through the crowd toward them with something in her hand.)

Cameraman Pete: Mallory, it's the hostess.

(Mallory snaps around, her painted on grin returning to her lips.)

Mallory Montana: Yes?

Magda: You mentioned something about maybe being desperate for work soon. Now, I don't like them but I don't know of many other television studios that are local on the island.

(Magda slips a business card into Mallory's hand. Mallory looks down at it confused, and then back at Magda as the hipster millennial makes her way through the crowd and back to her station behind the podium.)

Mallory Montana: WKRB...is this the UHF station she was talking about?

Cameraman Pete: I think so.

(Mallory glances at Pete, then back at the card, before turning and running at full speed toward Magda. Mallory manages to grab her arm before the hostess disappears into the crowd of would-be Rojo Lobster patrons. The two find themselves shouting over the static of customer chit-chat as they try to communicate.)

Mallory Montana: IS THIS THE UHF STATION?!

Magda: YEAH!

Mallory Montana: This will help in my investigation a lot.

Magda: WHAT?!

Mallory Montana: I SAID WHO SHOULD I ASK FOR? I HAVE NO CONNECTIONS! I HAVE NO IDEA WHO TO TALK TO!

Magda: ASK FOR STEVEN the rest of the name gets muffled amidst the rest of the patron's ramblings.

Mallory Montana: WHAT?!

Magda: I SAID I'M GOING TO KILL YOUR PARENTS!

Mallory Montana: WHAT?!

Magda: I GOTTA GO!

Mallory Montana: WAIT I-

Cameraman Pete: Mallory!

(Mallory turns to Pete, who nods silent toward a shock of gray hair approaching over the heads of the rest of the patrons, like Bruce the Shark's fin peering over the ocean surface in "Jaws". Mallory mouths 'Betty' to herself. Pete motions for her to follow him. Mallory nods and trails close behind her cameraman as he leads her to the open safety of the parking lot. Once they've reached the van, Mallory quickly hops in the driver's seat, darting her head around in search of the near-100 comedienne.)

Mallory Montana: This concludes this week's edition of Mal's Brunchtime Conspira-Sea...I might change the title again because I heard these hipster weirdos puntificate and I realize that it's not that flattering. Next week we head over to the UHF station WKRB and keep an eye out for that crazy Betty or her hipster assassin Magda. I'm going to call my parents and make sure they're okay. Pete's going to look up irony in the dictionary. I'm out of breath. See you next week. Cut the feed, Pete!

(Cut to black.)