Tom to the rescue.
The VFW had called him the night before. They were having a VIP arriving that day. They had told him that this VIP wanted to get some authentic Kansas barbecue and Tom’s Farmboy BBQ served by his alter ego, Chef Elwood, would be perfect.
Perfect for a retired general.
Tom had spent all night getting ready, smoking and mixing and cooking and drinking. Okay, but not much. It’s just that beer went so well with smoking pork and brisket. But he hadn’t had that much. Not nearly enough to have forgotten how much he had cooked.
Staring into the refrigerator he saw so much potato salad! When did he make so much potato salad? When did he make potato salad at all? He wasn’t even serving potato salad!
As Tom pondered the mystery of the potato salad, he heard a clanking sound outside. What was going on!? First a huge amount of magical potato salad had filled his refrigerator while he cooked and now someone was messing with his stuff!
Rushing outside, Tom saw someone loading his smoker onto a truck. But not any old truck … his truck!
“Hey!” Tom yelled, rushing out of his house. “What the Hell’s going on!”
The man stopped and turned around. He was wearing a Farmboy BBQ T-shirt that had a special embroidery. Tom stopped dead. It said “Chef Elwood”.
But … Tom was Chef Elwood.
Chef Elwood was his alter-ego. The persona he used when cooking and when promoting his business. There wasn’t another Chef Elwood!
The guy looked at him closely, “What were you doing in my house?” the man asked.
“That’s my house,” Tom responded, “and that’s my smoker.”
The other Chef Elwood jabbed Tom on the chest with a meaty finger, “Listen up. I don’t know who you are, but this is my smoker. That’s my house. And before you start with the b-b-b-buts, this is my truck!”
“Who the hell are you?” Tom asked.
“Chef Elwood,” the guy crossed his arms over his chest. “and you are ..?”
“And is this Tom’s Farmboy Barbecue or is it Chef Elwood’s Farmboy Barbecue?” the man asked while reaching into his back pocket.
Chef Elwood took out his driver’s license. There it was, in black and white, Chef Elwood. His first name was Chef?
“But I’m Chef Elwood,” Tom said, stunned. He was Chef Elwood. It was just someone he made up, like his rabbit and his turtle.
Chef Elwood couldn’t be real. But there he was, a tall, good looking man with a scrubby beard and dark hair. He had Chef Elwood on his license complete with the correct address.
“So, if you’re Chef Elwood and I’m Chef Elwood, then we’ve got us a bit of a problem don’t we?” the man said.
Tom was suddenly pissed! It just dawned on him that the man in front of him stole his identity! Well, at least his alter identity.
“What do you think you’re gonna do about it?” Tom growled through clenched teeth.
Chef Elwood nodded knowingly.
* * *
“These are the best ribs I’ve ever eaten!” declared the general, grabbing another slab. “What kind are they? Pork?”
The general took another bite and wiped the barbecue sauce off his salt-and-pepper mustache, “Chicken? They taste like chicken. Amazing!”
“I got them from my buddy Tom,” grinned Chef Elwood.
Author’s Note: Tom is my Aeon Flux … specifically the 6 part pilot and first 5 episode. Not sure why, he just seems to fit the mold.