"We're gonna bo-ow-owl t'night! We're gonna bo-ow-owl t'night! We're gonna..."

Drew's groan could be heard over the combined voices of Lewis, Oswald, and Kate. "That's the last time I let you people watch a perky, pseudo-fifties musical! I swear, I'm going to check out every copy of Grease II I can find and microwave them. It'll be worth the fines."

Lewis reached forward from the back seat, where he was sitting with Oswald, to slap Drew on the shoulder. "Sorry, buddy, but there's a surprising lack of songs about bowling."

"Yeah," said Oswald. "I think that's a grave oversight on the part of the world wide music industry."

Drew groaned again. Kate said, "Now wait a minute, Drew. Think of the music video possibilities. 'NSYNC all at separate lanes, wiggling their bottoms in unison."

"Yeah." Lewis's voice was dreamy.

"Don't mention that to Wick," said Drew. "He'll start a petition." He pulled into the lot in front of In The Gutter and parked. As they got out he looked around and remarked, "I like coming here for the same reason that plain girls like to hang around with really homely girls--these hoopties make my POS look good. Oswald, where's the rest of your team?" Oswald's team consisted of him, Lewis, Kate, and Pooch and Desmond, two of Oswald's fellow Global Parcels delivery men.

"They'll be inside. Pooch will be in the lounge getting fueled, and Desmond will be trying to put the make on whatever double X chromosome carrier happens by."

As he waited for Drew to unlock the trunk so he could get his bowling ball, Oswald tugged at his waistband. "Whoa, hang on, Urkel," said Kate.

"I have to, Kate," Oswald explained. "I didn't want Wick staring at my butt in a pair of tight jeans, so I borrowed a pair from Drew."

"Why didn't you wear a belt?"

"I did. I borrowed it from Drew, too. I would have tightened it, but Drew wouldn't let me punch any more holes in it."

The four friends went into the bowling alley, all but Drew lugging a bowling ball case. Inside, Oswald said, "Wait up, you guys. I gotta rent a pair of shoes."

"I don't know why you don't just go ahead and buy a pair," commented Drew.

"What's the point of spending money on shoes that are only appropriate for one thing?" argued Kate, as Oswald took his shoes. "I mean, where else would someone wear a pair of two-tone puke green and piss yellow clodhoppers?"

"Kate, this is Oswald we're talking about."

"Oh, yeah. Oswald, the next time you need a pair of dress shoes..."

"Hello, handsome." Everyone turned at the sound of the purr, Oswald clutching his shoes at chest height, as if for protection. Wick was almost upon him, eyes gleaming. "Oo, what big shoes! What size do you take, Sasquatch?"

Oswald checked the back of the shoes. "Size thirteen."

"Mmm. You know what they say about men with big feet?"

Lewis pulled Oswald away, snarling, "Go cruise Ringling Brothers!"

"Been there, done that, ran a comparison study on the acrobats." Nigel smiled nostalgically. "Gotta love men in tights."

They made their way over to where Oswald's team was gathered. Wick eyed the brightly colored satin shirts each member was wearing, then remarked to Oswald, "I don't believe any of your group ever watches BBCAmerica."

"Probably not, but how could you tell?"

"If they'd heard any British slang I doubt they would have named their team The Tossers."

Oswald opened his case and pulled out his bowling ball. It was a black marbled affair with his initials on it in silver, and red 'speed' flames on the side. His friends had tried to explain to him that there was no way you could figure which way was 'right side up' on a bowling ball, since it spun every which way when thrown, but he'd insisted. "My, what a butch ball," Wick said.

Lewis glared at him. "It's looking a little dull, Oswald. Maybe you should buff it."

Wick jumped up and down, waving his hand. "Oo, oo! Let me polish your ball, Oswald."

Lewis grabbed at the ball, growling, "If anyone polishes his ball it's going to be !"

"Please!" Oswald clutched his recreational equipment (his ball, you perverts!) "I'll polish my ball myself!"

"But Oswald, precious, that's so lonely."

"This is going to be a long evening," Drew remarked.

"Who are we bowling against tonight?" Lewis asked.

Oswald consulted a sheet. "We're up against the Righteous Rollers."

Wick perked up, and smoothed his hair back. "Biker gang?"

Kate shook her head. "Nope. These are a fringe group that believe that the Spanish Inquisition were pretty nice guys, except for the fact that they were Catholic, which automatically makes them suspect as possible devil worshipers."

Lewis frowned. "I thought that was the Holier Than Thou Rollers?"

"Who set up this tournament?" Drew asked. "You were up against the Pentacostal Pin Killers last week, and the Baptist Ball Burners the week before."

"Those Baptist broads were something else," said Lewis. "I still say we should disallow prayer before throwing. It's an unfair advantage."

"You mean like getting Kate to shake her boobs every time a deacon came up to throw?" Drew asked.

"Can I help it if I needed to adjust my bra at particular times?" she protested.

"What bra?"

A group of five men in black, long sleeved, cotton shirts approached. They were uniformly middle aged, sober faced, and short haired to the point where trying to guess who had a receeding hairlines was a moot point. The leader announced, "We are here to win this match for the glory of God, and the silver cup, which will look very nice behind the podium in the sanctuary. It can also double as the Holy Grail when we do our annual recreation of the Last Supper."

Lewis mumbled, "Practical Christianity."

Pooch, bearing a tray full of beers, arrived followed by Desmond (a handsome black man with dredlocks), who had his arm around a giggling woman wearing enough make-up to have supplied Tammy Faye for a year in her heyday.

Pooch said cheerfully, "First round's on me!" Each of the Tossers, Drew, and Nigel took a cup. Pooch offered the tray to the Righteous Rollers. "A drink in the spirit of friendly competition."

The head Roller said stiffly, "We do not consume alcohol. It is against our religion, and is the sweat of the devil."

"Oh, you've tasted Buzz Beer," said Wick.

The head Roller was examining Desmond closely. "We generally do not compete with foreigners."

Oswald blinked. "But Nigel isn't bowling."

Kate said, "I think he meant Desmond."

Oswald blinked again. "What has he got against people from Akron?"

"Sweet, innocent baby," Wick cooed.

Lewis said belligerently, "He's on our team."

"Very well. If you will ask the ladies to leave, we can begin."

"Who the hell you callin' a lady, tight ass?" snarled the chippie. She stomped off, ignoring Desmond's sad pleas.

"I'm not leaving," Kate said. "I'm on the team."

All of the men drew themselves up. "It is against our religion for women to compete in athletic events," said the head Roller.

"Good thing I don't go to your church, isn't it?"

The Roller's all shook their heads in unison. Lewis cocked a hand to his ear. "What are you doing?" Drew asked.

"Listening to a sound like five peas rattling around in five institutional sized tin cans."

The head Roller said firmly, "We cannot in good conscience compete with a team that has a female member."

"Fine," said Drew. "Then you forfeit. The Tossers win."

"Ray!" Oswald started to do a happy dance. His pants started to slip. Wick whipped out an Instamatic. Oswald stopped, clutching at his pants. Wick pouted.

The five men put their heads together and whispered. Finally the head Roller said, "We consulted our canon and came to the conclusion that losing was against our religion, too. We'll bowl."

"What a surprise." Drew started to drink the beers that the Rollers had turned down.

The game started. It was fairly obvious that the two teams were evenly matched.

One of the Rollers cast his eyes upward and said piously, "May my ball's path be like my life--straight and true."

Lewis went to the line, looked at his ball, and said, "May your path be unlike my life--stay out of the gutter."

One small, thin Roller, had been watching Kate with watery eyes. He sidled up to her and said, "You have wide, child-bearing hips."

She stared at him. "Do you pick up many women this way?"

"If you would just stop wearing make-up, foreswear alcohol, grow your hair, wear nothing but dresses that reached below your knees, and dedicate yourself to keeping my home in order, bearing my children, and obeying me, I could marry you and and assure you of eternal life in heaven at my side."

"You think that's an incentive? I thought you guys married young. Why is such a catch as you still un-hooked."

"Oh, I was married. My wife objected when I wanted to take her paycheck. Women are unfit to handle money, of course. I was going to invest it in a nice new truck."

"She needed a new car?"

"Oh, no! Women are notoriously unfit to drive cars. I was going to drive her wherever I felt she needed to go."

"And her reaction to this was?"

"Well, when I woke up in the hospital, I found that she had taken the kids to Reno to get herself a divorce and become a lesbian."

"I've always noticed that the two things go hand in hand," said Drew.

"What makes you think she was going to be a lesbian?" asked Kate. She couldn't help herself. It was like the urge to slow down to look at a train wreck.

"She had shown tendencies," the man said ominously. "She had begun to shave her legs."

Oswald frowned. "I thought it was usually the other way around?"

"No, Oswald," Lewis informed him. "If they're letting their leg hair grow they are on their way to becoming hairy-legged Communist Satan worshiping feminists."

The little man smiled. "Oh, then you're read our newsletter."

There was a clicking sound. Drew, Lewis, and Kate looked around to see Wick busily snapping away. Oswald was up to bowl, and had squatted down to get a better look at the pin lie. Drew's pants were a bit below half mast, and the bowling alley was getting the benefit of that Appliance Repairman fashion staple--the sideways half smile. Lewis said sharply. "Oswald! VBC."

The Rollers looked puzzled. One said, "Vacation Bible Class."

"Visible Butt Crack," Drew informed them. Oswald jumped up.

Wick stuck his tongue out at Lewis. "Spoil sport."

The game came very close. Finally there was only one Righteous Roller left to go. He threw, and knocked down half the pins. The Tossers groaned. Wick patted Oswald on the thigh. "Why so sad, my buttercup?"

"Nigel, all he has to do is knock down two pins and he wins!"

"So? He could miss."

"Are you kidding? They're all bunched up, and he's a good bowler. What could make him miss all of those?"

"I could."

Oswald stared at him. "You wouldn't, like, goose him, would you?" Wick shuddered. "Then how would you do it?"

"If I do make him miss, and your team wins this game, will you go with me to the Valentine Dance at the Indulgence Club?"

"Oswald!" Lewis gripped his shoulder. "That's that swanky, exclusive gay club! You can't get in unless you're rich and pretty. Say no."

"Can you really do it?" Oswald asked. Wick nodded. "I owe it to the guys, and Kate's hips. Okay, Wick. Make him miss, and I'll go out with you."

Nigel squealed. "Smashing! Come with me." He took Oswald's hand and led him up on the raised section in front of the alleys. He stood beside the Righteous Roller just as he began to make his approach. Wick said loudly, "Kiss me, my fool!" grabbed Oswald, slid a hand down the loose back of his pants, and laid a tongue filled lip-lock on him.

The Roller's ball did not go into the gutter--not on his lane, at least. It did go into the gutter two lanes over. He stood gaping at the two men beside him. Then he looked at the equally stunned head Roller, pointed at Oswald and Wick (who was still trying to check Oswald's tonsils with his tongue) and said, "Hank, are those some of them Homosapiens you been telling us about?"