Companions
In the books Florida Roadkill and Triggerfish Twist, Serge's companions are a cold-hearted stripper named Sharon Rhodes and an idiotic drug addict named Seymore "Coleman" Bunsen. Both of these characters appear to die in Florida Roadkill; they both return for the later novel Triggerfish Twist which takes place sometime before the events of Florida Roadkill. Coleman returns permanently in Torpedo Juice, and has been Serge's sidekick in most of the novels since.
While Coleman is presumed dead, Serge travels with Lenny Lipowicz, whom he meets in Hammerhead Ranch Motel. Lipowicz is a Don Johnson lookalike who is a stoner much like Coleman but slightly (and only slightly) more intelligent. Lenny lives with his mother and her dog, though he frequently leaves the house for days without notifying or contacting her. Aside from Hammerhead Ranch Motel, Lenny has been in Cadillac Beach, and The Stingray Shuffle. He also appeared in "Atomic Lobster", in which he and Coleman meet and indulge in their shared pathological fondness for marijuana. It's unknown if he will ever return as a character.
Read more about this topic: Serge A. Storms
Famous quotes containing the word companions:
“To coöperate in the highest as well as the lowest sense, means to get our living together. I heard it proposed lately that two young men should travel together over the world, the one without money, earning his means as he went, before the mast and behind the plow, the other carrying a bill of exchange in his pocket. It was easy to see that they could not long be companions or coöperate, since one would not operate at all. They would part at the first interesting crisis in their adventures.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“Dear fellow-artist, why so free
With every sort of company,
With every Jack and Jill?
Choose your companions from the best;
Who draws a bucket with the rest
Soon topples down the hill.”
—William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)
“My only companions were the mice, which came to pick up the crumbs that had been left in those scraps of paper; still, as everywhere, pensioners on man, and not unwisely improving this elevated tract for their habitation. They nibbled what was for them; I nibbled what was for me.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)