I didn't sit down to write about Scudge Frisk the biker who sits with his friends in a dank bar at noon drinking Jim Beam. Nor do I care about Scudge Frisk the bear of a man who wrapped his greasy elbow around the neck of bartender Willy, who had suggested Scudge's vehicle was of foreign make. It's the Frisk that no one knew - the Frisk that hobbled on home and threw his leather vest over a banister only to begin working on designs for doilies.

He especially loved a doily that looks precious under a centerpiece vase. But let's just say he shot out from antiquity when he introduced that new line. The new ones weren't perforated or white, they were tinted and often geometric. "These," thought Scudge, "would even appeal to some of my pals back at the bar.

Most folks know that sound is linked to emotions. Bikers know, for example, that the deep roar of a Harley is a resonance that makes babies feel sentimental when it seeps from roadside to crib. But Scudge Frisk discovered a new elicitor. One day when staring at a newly-dyed doily, the combination of its "deep-fog-green" center and a "winter cyan" edge made him feel raging hatred. "I hate this doily," thought the mean biker. "Its colors make me want to kill." Further experimentation yielded other emotions.

Months of refining led to the ultimate color combo. He dyed squares of silk the appropriate selection of hues, sewed them into doilies, shoved some samples into his vest pocket and rocketed on down to the bar. Before Tiny Rockalon or Rodney Kark could squeak a barstool, their drinks had been placed upon multicolored silk pads. This new color pattern, they would learn, caused ultimate happiness. Rockalon, Rodney and the rest looked over and found themselves to be happy as larks. "No longer," exclaimed one of them, "will we need to bicker over meaningless trifles." They were so happy that they all left their dingy watering pit to go running daintily through a grassy field. Two young girls in pink Sunday dresses sat on a nearby lawn overhauling the engine of their minibike when they noticed the huge men in jeans and leather strolling like playful kittens.

The girls heard one biker yell back to the other, "I feel summery and succinct, like a sleeveless linen dress."