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With his immaculate white gloves and perfectly tied bow tie, it was an entirely different Ruel from the one we know today who was gliding between the tables at the prestigious Wakfuquet's. Moving with an agility and grace worthy of a Bow Meow, the "young" Enutrof was performing his duties as a waiter with rigor and dignity…

 
"If I may be so bold, Sir, the Saint Amourette would go perfectly with your Gobbly Saddle à la Ballotwine."

"Might I suggest the Brakmarian Mille-Feuille, Madame. Its subtle hints of magmatic ash are sure to delight your taste buds."

"Madame, Sir, may I interest you in a Regresso? It's the best in the region, ground by pinky finger according to ancestral traditions handed down from father to son."

His tone was spot on. Cordial, confident, and not the slightest bit pushy. Perfect for an establishment of this caliber. Nothing had ever so much as hinted that a guy like Ruel could fit so perfectly into this type of decor. But it wasn't the masterpieces adorned with kama-leaf-guilded frames, nor the solid silver cutlery that had convinced him to apply for the job. Oh, no, if there is one and only one thing stronger than greed for an Enutrof, it's… love.

12:43 p.m. On the dot. Soon. It would happen soon. His palms were sweating, making the feeling of his silk gloves against his skin quite unpleasant. His legs were trembling, giving him the impression that they were too weak to support his body. From the corner of his eye, Ruel saw the revolving door start to move. A shiver ran up his spine. Then suddenly, he saw her… Her long blonde hair in an elegant braid framed the delicate features of her face. She was wearing the same outfit as always – blue coveralls, as blue as the Sufokia waters that showed off her magnificent eyes to perfection. The ritual was the same as ever. With a discreet smile on her face, she walked lightly towards the kitchens to deliver the day's supply of ice cubes. Not just any ice cubes. Luxury ice cubes imported directly from Frigost – "the only ones that can make a Blue Kamikaze cocktail live up to our clients' expectations," according to the executive chef. A ridiculous affectation in Ruel's opinion, but one that had the merit of giving him this treasured moment.

Even though she was trying to be discreet, she lit up the room. Ruel wanted only one thing – to rip off the dratted bow tie cutting into his neck, throw his white gloves into the faces of his odious, stuffy clients, and run to her to beg her to run away with him and live on love and fresh water (and a few kamas) in a beautiful remote spot cut off from the world. Why not an island in the middle of nowhere? There, they could spend their days lounging on white sand beaches, drinking kokoko water straight from the source. Get as tan as a kama and…

"Is our waiter deaf or something?! Unbelievable! WAITER?! WAITER!!"

His face half hidden by a lock of silky white hair and a blue silk scarf around his neck, Phil Harmonic, the rising "howling ballads" star was sitting at table one, the most sought-after in the establishment. Around him, several women, each more elegant and pretty than the next, were striking exaggerated poses to show off their perfect figures.

The two Enutrofs hated each other… The "reason" for their hatred was the beautiful young "ice cube girl" that they both had been courting for ages… Phil was a philanderer. He had to seduce them all. And above all, he took perverse delight in stepping on Ruel's toes. Usually, their "courting contest" was all in good fun, but this time, Ruel didn't feel like joking…

"Will Sir be having his usual? A humble pie?" asked Ruel.

Phil stared defiantly back at him.

"Of course. And bring us your best fermented grape juice. The most expensive, top of the line. We're celebrating the triumphant success of my latest album. Right, ladies?"

"He he he!"

The groupies laughed vapidly.

"If I may, I'd suggest Sir order sparkling api juice. It doesn't pack as much of a punch…"

"Whatever. Just don't keep these ladies waiting." Phil cast a beguiling eye on his entourage as he spoke.

Then he pulled out his guitar and started playing the tune to "Come as You Were", the famous hit by Enir'Vana, the Bwork'n'roll group with greasy hair and ripped jeans.

"Ahem… Excuse me, Sir, but this isn't a 'fast food joint'. For the good of our other clients, and especially their ears, and because your guitar is out of tune, we must kindly request that you put away your instrument, please," said Ruel, not without a certain jubilation.

Phil put his guitar down in the middle of the table and gave him a stare as cold as the contents of the ice cube girl's cooler.

"My guitar's out of tune?"

It was not the moment for politeness. The young women instantly stopped smiling. The ones seated on either side of Phil moved away slightly, sensing the thunder rising. A few seconds of silence lasted an eternity.

"The Do sounds like your grandmother farting, and the Ti makes the same sound as her dentures when she chews her soup," said Ruel, who had definitively moved beyond even the slightest pretense of politeness.

Phil's face turned beet red. He gritted his teeth.

"My grandmother doesn't wear dentures!" he yelled, pounding his fist on the table, startling the young groupies.

"As for your Fa… It's no surprise you sold ONLY 10 million copies of your last album…"

It was too much. Phil jumped up. He was fuming. Ruel, for his part, was smiling smugly.

"Sir seems a bit tense. Perhaps he might enjoy a relaxing infusion after his meal?"

"I'll give you a relaxing infusion, I will!"

Phil grabbed his guitar, turned on the Stasis generator, and ripped into a Shustuft Crust solo that echoed throughout the room and into the kitchens. The executive chef, the line cooks, and the "ice cube girl" came out in a panic.

"How's that for out of tune, chump?"

Ruel took off his white gloves and tossed them casually over his shoulder. Then he loosened his bow tie, rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, and took Phil's guitar.

"I'll show you how to play a chord properly, you Sunday flute player!"

In turn, Ruel made the walls shake with an equally masterful solo. At the same time, he spun his hair around (it was very long at the time), as is customary for precious metal bands to do.

Then Phil snatched his guitar back out of Ruel's hands to respond. A long solo battle followed, with each solo being longer, faster, and more intricate than the last. The two Enutrofs climbed on tables, sometimes leaping from table to table, swinging from the chandeliers, and sliding down the long counter on their knees.

The two Enutrofs took turns battling it out with their Shushued guitar riffs. All the best solos in the musical history of the Krosmoz were trotted out. The Foaming Stones, Dire Predicament, Pistols and Demonic Roses – no one was left out. The clients and staff stared at the scene, thunderstruck. Until the head of the establishment stormed out, furious, to put an end to the commotion.

"Stop it. Just who do you think you are?? Band of savages! Security! Throw these two maniacs out! As for you, Ruel, I don't need to tell you that you can forget about your overtime this month! YOU'RE FIRED!"

A colossus chiseled from Crackler rock grabbed the two Enutrofs by their collars and threw them out of the restaurant, literally. They landed on the sidewalk across the street. But even at that distance, the wave of indignation rising from the restaurant's dining room reached them.

Phil and Ruel looked at each other in silence for a minute, then burst out laughing.

"Wow, that really gets your heart pumping, doesn't it?" said Ruel, out of breath, his hair wild and his suit in tatters.

"Speak up! Your 'A Brick on the Wall' solo made me deaf!"

The two frenemies started laughing even harder.

"I've got to admit we really tore it up in there…"

"So… Do you think they'll ever let us eat there again?" said Phil with a nod at the restaurant.

"That hotbed of uptight snobs? Never! I'd rather starve!" said Ruel, throwing away the remains of his apron.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha!!"

"Hey, guys! Ever think about starting a band?"

The two Enutrofs stopped laughing and turned around. The young ice cube girl had taken off her work uniform, revealing an unexpected outfit. Leather, fishnet and tattoos – her apparent shyness hid a totally badass, bwork'n'roll babe!

"Because if you're looking for a singer…"

History has it that the young woman only recorded one song with the two frenemies. "They are simply unbearable," she is rumored to have said.

Still, without her, Ruel and the Comets or Phil Harmonic's Orchestra (even today, no one knows what the real name of their precious metal band was) would never have been born…