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Some people figure since Spoonman and Cobra Woman always host Cobra Lounge together, and that since she is slinky blonde doll-face and he is ethnic beer-guzzling gopher brain, that maybe they share the same bed. Banish the thought. No, they meet like most men and women meet, in a haze of accident and fate, and though initially sparks did fly, it was not long before lines were drawn, and it became obvious that romance between these two would tip delicate balance in war between sexes and would rush us all headlong into bloody half-time show that would disrupt game of love for several generations. No, it was clear that best solution would be for the two to assume their respective responsibilities and not try to mix pleasure with business.
So they remain independent, Cobra Woman forever smearing threatening lipstick messages across Spoonman's bathroom mirror, and Spoonman, forever signaling from behind large potted palms, trying to warn Cobra Woman's unsuspecting swains, of the danger, before it is too late. But like all alliances formed under fire, theirs is a strong bond, for between them, they have best interests of COBRA LOUNGE at heart, and though temptation is always there to turn radon blasters on each other, they do not. For they know that if they did, COBRA LOUNGE would cease to exist, and ice age would surely return, and with it, perhaps a new inquisition. So, if you have heart for it, here then is story of how Spoonman first met Cobra Woman.
When Spoonman was young man, and was tramping around world, as all young Spoonmen do, he came to islands of Greece -- Crete to be specific.
When I arrived, locals instantly mistake me for hippie, pretty easy thing to do, but when they find that I speak universal language of lowly working man, villagers take me into their homes. Soon it becomes obvious that there is great tension going on inside village. In small village, size of one city block, there are two tavernas. One is owned by tall proud house-builder, other is owned by small clubfooted octopus fisherman. One is whitewashed with single hanging light bulb, other is dressed with fishing nets, red light bulb, and television set that shows reruns of most ancient American sitcoms. Both men have traveled; one to England, the other to Germany. They daily hurl insults at each other, "Pig", the one hollers. " Butcher", the other retorts. Both men insist I do not socialize with the other. Both tell me stories of a beautiful blond tourist who lives by the beach, in caves with hippies, and loves each of them to the exclusion of all others. Spoonman can smell labyrinthine situation, so he begins investigation. ...>
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