It's Friday Night at Hodges' Cafe. The elephant's behind the counter, the hippo's waiting table, and the eccentric house duck is acting, well, eccentric. Suddenly three flashy and menacing tigers shove through the door (despite the prominent ``No Tigers'' sign). The tigers cut rough, but the duck gives them dollar for dollar, until a major rhubarb breaks out. The duck gets caught in a headlock; his pal Hodges, the chef, plants a souffle in the offending tiger's puss. Outraged, the tiger gets ready for real mayhem, until he tastes the souffle dripping down his face. The tiger, a gourmand, recognizes it as the work of a master, cools off, and orders three Boston cream pies. Needless to say, by the end of the evening all at Hodges' are fast friends and the ``No Tigers'' sign removed from the door. Grab a shake, a corner seat, and await next Friday at Hodges' Cafe, you won't find a more happening spot east of Dubuque. One of the most exceptional and offbeat stories in some time. (Picture book. 4-8)
