Welcome to the Beau and Neu Hour…

*Opening of The Sea Mammal Workout Gym…

**AKA: Davey Jones’ Locker Room in Savin Rock…


Neu Bedford:  Yes, I am Neu, and this is my gym. A gym dedicated to sea-based mammals. Actually, more exactly, a center wholly only for whales. Way, way, way behind me, seated, sliding in a troubling plastic molded chair upright, being doused, of course, is one of my clients, Beau. Beau Blue, a Blue Whale. *I am really a couple hundred yards in front so we can gain some normal perspective during the interview. You’ll notice Bleu as he’s the one who’s lazily flipping his fluke on the flukestool. This will be a weekly show to encourage other whales of all sorts to go land to slim down and trim the fat with no hazard to themselves in a safe environment. They do have long memories you know that exceed that even of elephants.

Beau:  Yes, Neu, thank you for our initial interview and show. And yes, I want to appeal to my brother and sister 7-Seaers to come on in and go svelte. Can you tell I’m losing weight, can you, can you? I know the loss would look absolutely radical on a Killer, lending curves to the black and white tuxedo look-very smart. Neu, to ensure the prospective clientele feel assured walking through those doors would you kindly explain the process etc?

Neu:  Sure Bleu, if not for you, who? We all know the adversarial history between sailors, or, rather, whalers and those whales. I say foes since Moby made a name for himself and there was also the Essex. But those times are over. I thought one day, how can it be mutually beneficial, to both players? Everee body wants to look good, especially with the “Neu” year. So why not me, why not now? I thought there must be a synergistic connection between desired weight (dare I say, “fat”) loss and energy. Energy you say? Well yes, the world is *crying out for sensible, clean energy generation. *{At the mention of “crying” the dophinic peanut gallery studio audience lets loose with delirious squeaks in unison.} Using my patented, yet discreet and highly personally protected method I am able to harvest weight loss during workouts and convert the excess into prized whale oil. Yes, back in the business again. Oil that is clear, loverly to look at (in London & New London), scentless and smokeless. No shame and No gain for our whale brethren and wonderful oil just a lighting away. Both parties benefit, no harms, no fouls.

Bleu: Yes, I want to again assure all it’s harpoonless, totally harmless.

Neu: Bleu, let’s get a little personal. Is it true you’ve another Nickname and a proper name?

Bleu:  Sure, spout on…

Neu:  The other moniker besides Bleu is “Waylon”, is that right? Do you see the irony in that?

Bleu:  Don’t have a clue where you’re sailing. My dad loved swimming offshore of major cities. Off of Mobile Bay and Houston in particular and he just loved hearing concerts from his favorite Southern Singer-Get It?

Neu:  Nailed, ooh, I mean sure…

Bleu:  You do know of my formal, water baptismal name, don’t you?

Neu:  Isn’t it sort of historically sounding, not to go sonar.

Bleu:  In fact, it is, though no relation to a hammocked novel. My father, True Blue, frequented port cities as expected. He loved Boston and was a great fan of a gull of sorts who played a sport just inshore. He just loved any sport where people were known to get “dunked” on. However, it was this Celtic’s best friend that got his attention and was my namesake. You’re really interviewing Roby Rick. He deliberately misspelled it so as not to infringe on the waterproof jersey market. And that’s the rest of this salty story.

Neu suddenly gets an emergency warning piped into this left ear, “Thar She Blows Alert”!

Bleu begins out of nowhere draining the studio of air strongly and hesitatingly through his cavernous mouth. Then tries to reinvigorate pressure back into the set but again resumes the intake on an even stronger scale-something momentous is about to occur! If he goes gusher there go the electronics, and, more critically, the end of the interview and membership push.

*Upon the alert, blocked behind Bleu arises a stagehand who gingerly mounts a 10-foot ladder centered just behind our star in the hopes of missing the monsoon. The camera angle is lowered and a funnel with requisite tubing has he in hand-just in case.

*Bleu in a hapless attempt to avoid the splish splash does his best to use his fins to cover his porthole; an inverted “V” is formed.

*However, the dophinic chorus, fresh off free tix scored on Mascot Day per their favorite South Florida footballers recognize a “Safety” being called by Bleu. They as one let loose themselves and douse the cause of the calamity-camerawoman SalineHah. It seems she made the mistake of wearing her new naval attracting perfume “Unnettable”. Not only does Bleu not emit scent (even during cardio), but, he likewise can’t tolerate it. The stagehand gratefully descends the ladder mounted behind Bleu. Waterpark reenactment avoided.

Bleu:  Friends, please ignore the stunned look in my eyes; for a moment I went “Beached Whale” but am back in the bay now. Technical challenges on the set, it’s what you get with live TV. Speaking of, My Mamms, whales out there, come on down, join and get 1 free month also for your diver friend! You won’t regret it! You’ll be helping our environment and diminishing that life belt line too. As an added perq, our camerawoman, SalineHah, also doubles as a barnacle hygienist, 1st three treatments on us.

*Now a public service announcement. Being on a set and thinking of them, TV sets, older ones… Brother divers, never, ever go back flipping into the drink dressed like one, as in a black & white. My cousin Killers might just take a liking to you…

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