It had been several months since Count Carlo had had a drink. His nights were usually spent in comfortable seclusion, working on astrology problems which had yet never been solved by the ancients. Modern astrology was somehow remiss in not emphasizing certain principles, such as the doctrine of abscission, and the Count felt that it was his place to research and to reemphasize the importance of these principles of a bygone era.

Yet, this particular evening sported a fun-loving Moon in Sagittarius, applying to a beautiful trine to Venus in Leo. More significantly, some of Count Carlo's old playmates were in town to see a battle of the bands at a local club, and their threats to drag him out if he stayed in gave way to his decision to go out and have some much-needed fun. He had graciously donated his services as a prize to the contest winners. Dressed in denim and motorcycle boots, he exclaimed, "Carpe Noctem!" and headed out the door, choosing the black carriage as his means of transport.

The crowd at La Dionysienne, a popular music hall in the exclusive Normandy hamlet of Pudding-on-the-Ritz, was virtually nonexistent when Count Carlo arrived, and he soon joined his friends at a table in the farthest corner from the stage.



Nostradaigle, a double Gemini, and a descendant of a godchild of the noted seer Michel de Nostradame, jumped up to shake Carlo's hand as soon as he spotted his friend.

"Hey Boss, glad you came. All astrology and no play makes Carlo a dull boy, buddy. We have a lot of catching up to do. Caz is here..."

"What's up C-Note?" piped Casanueva, Carlo's old Scorpio friend from his salad days on the streets of Manhattan. "Don't worry, C, the mujeres will be here soon, yo."

Carlo winked at his Mayan friend, recalling the lazy afternoons the two spent chasing the Madison Avenue girls on their lunch breaks through Washington Square Park. Not so oddly, the phrase "Madison Avenue" contains the sentence "I see some Maenads!"

"Eddie," Carlo said, as his eyes grew dim. "It's so great to see you, too." The two men embraced.

"Hi, Carlo, you look well," Edgar intoned cheerfully, patting his Calabrian pal on the back.

Edgar Connorcye, a Taurus, was the grandson of a former Virginia Beach neighbor of the prophet, Edgar Cayce. He and Count Carlo had enjoyed many deep conversations and Carlo enjoyed this friend's company the most. They had not seen each other since Edgar had moved to an ashram almost a decade ago.

"And Vinny Bag O' Donuts, how the hell are you?"

Vindu Crowheart, a Sagittarius, belonged to the Wannabe tribe, a pseudo-Native American band of spiritual weekend warriors that mix with the Rainbow people and do all the set-up and maintenance for most of the North American Pagan gatherings.

Vindu was just in it for the girls now, yet in his finer days, he achieved the title of Super Chief, given only to those Wannabes who are "most convincing".

"I am doing great, Big Astrology Man. I made you table centerpiece to attract us much love tonight...take!"

"Haha...thanks Vindu, this rocks! You're still the best in the East, a wild crazy beast," and he accepted the gift from his old friend, placing it carefully in the center of the table.

"Yo C, you bring the carriage tonight, B?" Casanueva asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I did...why Caz? Isn't that your limousine out front?" Carlo queried back.

"Sì, amigo, it's just...Dios mio, hombre...you know what a mamacita magnet that phat ride is, yo!"

Carlo smiled, and glanced over at Nostradaigle. "So, what's the prediction, my friend...we going to have a good time?"

Nostradaigle touched his temples, closed his eyes, and replied, "Oh yeah, Carlo, I can see a lot of fun in our near future...stay loose, man. I predict that there will be quite a crowd tonight. Possibly even a Janeane sighting."

At that point all the men including Carlo could not hide their excitement. They bowed their heads to the Horned God figure atop their table, and joined together in four-part harmony, chanting languidly.

"Let's hope so, fellas," Carlo finally said, breaking their Jeneane praise of "we are not worthy," and returning his table back to Planet Earth.

"So Eddie, have you worked out the details of the Atlantis thing yet?" Count Carlo asked of his prophetic pal.

Just then, two caped characters strolled up to the table, sporting New Jersey Devils caps on backwards. A young girl in tow stood nearby, decked out in Tommy Hawk TeenGear.

"Well just look at this mad phat chick killah right here," Carlo remarked to the scrawnier one.

"If it isn't Bluntman and Chronic...què pasa, fellas? Who's got the hootch, baby? Whose got the only sweetest thing in the world, yo?" Casanueva sang to the dynamic duo.

"Yo C...yo, yo, CC...who are these other jizzmoppers with you," the thinner character joked. At that moment, an angry Vindu stood up, sitting back down slowly as Count Carlo touched his arm.

"Careful, Jay. Missy Mia... haven't you found a better class of losers yet?"

"Hi Countie Carlo," the young girl replied, smiling and fidgety. "Don't tell my Mom I was here, okay? I know it's cool for us lil' gangstas to drink here in Normandy, yo...I just don't want her to know that I was with..."

"You got it kid," Carlo promised. "And you keep this quiet yourself...I don't want to be seen in this place! Quick, grab that guy's camera!" and he winked at her, laughing heartily.

"Right Pop...so Jay...are you gonna get me drink or what?" she added, "I want a snootch-to-the-bootch, extra nugga-nootch."

"Relax, Shirley Temple, you know who The Man is, baby," Jay said, nodding confidently to the rest of the table.

"Yeah...him!" Missy Mia shot back, glancing lovingly at Count Carlo, to Jay's dismay.

Jay bounced right back, "Yeah, whatever, Eleven-teen...so you dudes up for a fatty-boom-batty or what?"