"Two cases," she answered as she set brown grocery bags on the table. She tossed him the car keys. "They're in the trunk."
Mike snatched the keys out of the air. He left and returned with the beer cartons, one under each arm. Michelle had started unpacking various snack foods. This was no party. It was Mike's turn to host the weekly poker game.
Mike began to unload beer cans into the refrigerator. "What are you and Fran going to do tonight?" Mike's brother never missed a game.
"Stand over your shoulders and laugh," Michelle answered matter-of-factly. She noticed Mike's annoyed look so she said, "We're going to finish the drapes we've been working on for Jeff and Bev's anniversary. We should be able to finish tonight... and don't worry. We'll stay in the den."
Mike took his wife in his arms. "I wasn't worried." The kiss he gave her was interrupted by someone knocking on the back door.
Michelle looked passed Mike's arm out the window on the door. "Your brother's here."
Mike quickly let go of her and opened the door. Tim let Fran enter ahead of him. "Chet and Marco pulled in behind me," he told his brother as he greeted him with a kiss.
Marco appeared in the doorway. "Brace yourself. Chet's been experimenting with the dip again."
Chet came through the door carrying a tupperware bowl. "Hey, the Galloping Gourmet experiments all the time," he told them while proudly lifting the lid to the bowl.
Instantly, hands covered noses. Fran coughed. "What is it?" Michelle finally asked with tears stinging her eyes.
"Peanut butter sauerkraut dip." Chet looked hurt at their groans. "Fine," he said returning the lid, "I'll just take it home and eat it myself."
Mike took the bowl from him and set it outside the door. "Someone should have this declared toxic waste."
"Roy can't make it tonight," Johnny told everyone when he arrived. "By the way, what is in that bowl on the back porch? I think it was gurgling."
Chet put his hands on his hips. "Nobody appreciates the culinary arts."
With the arrival of Capt. Stanley the game was underway.
Two hours later Chet was winning heavily. He was raking in yet another pot and saying, "Talent, men, sheer talent."
Mike stood and stretched. "Anybody for another beer or anything?"
His guests shook their heads. Mike returned to his chair as Hank Stanley said, "I guess it's my deal." He took up the cards, shuffled and offered them to Marco to cut.
Suddenly Chet was doubled over in pain. He was clutching his stomach and moaning. Johnny was at his side immediately.
"Chet, where exactly is the pain?"
Chet gave Gage a look but was even hurting too much to make the joke.
Chet's groans had reached the women in the den. Michelle and Fran emerged to see Johnny tending to him and the others looking on.
"I'll call the department," Mike offered.
"What happened?" Michelle asked.
Mike was reaching for the phone. "He grabbed his stomach all of a sudden. He's in a lot of pain."
Michelle thought for a moment. "Put the phone down," she told her husband. She moved to where Chet was now lying on the floor. "Johnny, do you mind?" Johnny moved to allow Michelle to kneel beside Chet. She turned Chet on his left side then asked, "Chet, had you by any chance eaten any of your famous peanut butter sauerkraut dip before you came here?"
Chet nodded meekly.
"So that's it!" Marco exclaimed relieved.
Mike moved to his wife. "Pepto Bismol?"
Michelle shook her head. "Get the caster oil."
Mike returned with the bottle and a spoon. "Okay, Chet, open up." Mike held a full spoon to his lips.
"No. That stuff is awful."
Capt. Stanley joined them. "It can't be any worse than your cooking, pal. Now open up...That's an order."
Chet allowed Mike to dose him with the thick liquid gagging after each spoonful.
"He'll be better in an hour or two," Michelle told them. "But I would suggest someone get him into the den. There's a bathroom off of it."
As predicted in a couple of hours the malady had...er...um... passed. But the evening was indeed over.
"Don't forget this," Mike said handing Chet his tupperware bowl.
Chet shook his head. "Get rid of it. I never want to see that stuff again."
"Maybe you learned something from this," Mike commented.
"Yeah," Chet agreed. "When it comes to dip I'm going to stick with something I know... good old butterscotch bean."
THE END