Scharl climbed the stool, sitting down with a squelch. A tall, tan-skinned man with kohl around his eyes sat down to his right, close to a white panel that blocked the other side of the stage from view. The man smelled of mushrooms.
A wet slopping noise drew Scharl's attention to his left, where a gelatinous black blob oozed its way up the metal leg of the stool before circling the padded seat and sucking the rest of its form up into a single mass. A set of eyes bobbed to the top of the blob and stared at Scharl, a second set popping out of the side and floating around in a circle to check out the surroundings.
An overly cheerful voice sounded from the other side of a large red curtain in front of them. "Welcome to Take Out, a new dating game for those hip to our dark overseers. I'm Bill Eldritch, your host. Tonight, a human female will ask our eligible, yet questionable, bachelors three questions before making her choice. The winner joins our bachelorette for dinner. Are we ready?"
The audience cheered.
Bright lights flooded the stage where the three males sat. The tan man stared straight ahead, while the blob undulated, constantly shifting its body to keep it on the stool. One set of eyes glided around in frantic motions, sinking then popping back up again.
Scharl looked down at his tail, a dry white scale catching his attention. He scratched at it with a side fin, trying to extricate the scale, but making it more obvious instead. The curtain started to rise, and Scharl slapped his fin over the loose scale, locking his body into an uncomfortable position.
The lights blazed enough that he couldn't make out individual faces in the audience, but he could see their dark shapes through the white-hot glare. Instantly, Scharl felt the moisture evaporating from his body. He tried to shift on the stool without moving his fin from the dry scale, almost toppling over backwards, but he stilled when the voice came again, this time from a closer shadow that paced in front of the light.
"Before we bring out our bachelorette, let's meet the three bachelors. Bachelor Number One hails from Egypt and fancies himself a pharaoh, though he admits to reinventing himself often. Welcome Nyarlathotep."
The audience applauded politely.
"Bachelor Number Two comes to us from the depths of the ocean. His people call themselves The Deep Ones, but he says he can be pretty shallow. Please welcome Scharl."
More applause.
"Bachelor Number Three has been to both Egypt and the ocean, but he's sometimes described as spineless. Welcome Shoggoth."
A final smattering of applause.
"Now let's bring out our bachelorette. Layla, a shark lobotomist, loves to dance a jig and eat stinky cheese."
"The stinkier the better, Bill," a high female voice called from the other side of the panel.
Bill laughed. "That's what I thought, Layla."
The audience laughed with them.
Bill spoke again. "I'm sure you're hungry. Go ahead with your first question, my dear."
Microphones rose from the stage floor, tall and skinny. Nyarlathotep's was at just the right height, but the other two mics loomed above Scharl and Shoggoth. Shoggoth shot out an oozing tentacle and pulled his microphone down to just below one set of eyeballs. Scharl couldn't reach his at all.
"Let's start with Bachelor Number Three," Layla said. "If I were a vegetable, how would you peel me?"
One set of Shoggoth's eyes moved toward the partition, while another stared out at the audience. A raspberry noise emitted from somewhere inside him, causing bubbles to rise to the surface of the ooze, followed by a gurgle that made the entire creature vibrate.
Layla said, "Bachelor Number Two?"
Scharl ripped the offending scale off and held it up, tired of the crick trying to form in his back. He strained toward the microphone. "I'd surround you with my fins and rub my scales over you to loosen your skin as gently as possible."
"Bachelor Number One?"
Nyarlathotep leaned forward, full lips almost touching the black sponge of the mic head. "In ancient times, we had a crescent blade called a khopesh. I would use this to peel your skin from you in one long, sensual piece."
The audience gasped in harmony with Layla.
"Bachelor Number One, if I were a stew what seasoning would you use on me?"
"I'd roast you up in a mix of coriander and cumin. Not only would you be delectable, but the aphrodisiac powers of coriander would make for a spicy night."
The audience "Ooooooohed" then applauded.
"That sounds amazing. Bachelor Number Two?"
Scharl gulped. How could he beat that answer? He searched his mind for something sexy to say about spices. "I, uh, would cover you in olive oil so I could massage some pepper into the, uh, you. Into you. And some salt, so you'd taste like the ocean and call me home.”
Almost total silence greeted this, but one man yelled out, "What?"
A pause, then, "Bachelor Number Three?"
"Phbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbblt. Fut. Lllllllbbbb."
The audience applauded.
Scharl rolled his eyes.
"Bachelor Number Two, describe your perfect date?"
Scharl had this one. "The perfect date would be a picnic at the beach and a lovely swim in the sun and brine."
"Number Three?"
"Pbbbbbbbbbb."
"Number One."
"A delectable meal by a raging and powerful river, followed by antics not proper for television."
A buzzer sounded, and Bill spoke. "That's time. Layla, which bachelor would you like to have dinner with?"
"Bill, that's a hard one, but I love the ocean, so I think I'm going to go with Bachelor Number Two."
Scharl gasped. He'd fully expected Nyarlathotep to win. His answers had been so good. Exhilaration filled him at this wondrous surprise. He'd won!
Speaking of Bachelor Number One, his human form rippled then changed, leaving behind a towering, dark body with wings and talons. The creature flung out its wings and flapped them over Scharl's head, lifting off the stool and flying away, screeching as he crossed the partition. He didn't sound happy.
Something wet hit Scharl's foot, drawing his attention downward. A piece of Bachelor Number Three had landed on his tail fin. Scharl grimaced, jerking his fin back and shaking it. The ooze ran off, but didn't touch the floor before Shoggoth sucked it back into his body on his way down the stool. The oozing mass hit the ground with a sploosh, pausing in front of Scharl's stool. This time, the raspberry noise sounded personal. One set of eyes moved around the blob to keep Scharl in view as Shoggoth moved around the partition.
A startled, feminine "Oh!" sounded.
Bill said, "Come on out and meet your date, Bachelor Number Two!"
Scharl carefully climbed down from the stool, his tail fins flattening against the cold hardwood. He teetered his way around the partition to find a beautiful rubicund woman with golden curls and kewpie doll lips standing before him. Oddly, she wore a bib with the basic image of a fish on it, and sat at a table decorated with a red tablecloth, plastic utensils, and a Styrofoam container. He hadn't realized dinner would be served right there on stage. Perhaps he should have watched the show before volunteering to go on it, but a free meal was a free meal, and he had a thing for human women.
Oddly, there was only one chair.
"Layla, meet Scharl, your Take Out for tonight."
He held out a fin to Layla, who took it firmly in her soft hands and said, "I'm delighted to meet you. You know every part of you is a delicacy, from fins to eyeballs?"
This struck Scharl as an odd come on, yet his dorsal fin rose when a purr rumbled from her throat.
"Ah, we've got to clean you up first," Bill, no longer just a shadow, said. He held a long, thin microphone, his pinky sticking out. His suit was gray, his form hirsute, and his grin predatory. He gestured backstage. "This way."
Scharl pulled his fin from Layla's grasp. He followed a slight man with giant headphones toward the curtain, struggling to keep up. A rich, spicy scent reached his gills, causing his stomachs to rumble in unison. Dinner smelled delectable.
Giant Headphones stopped at a large round container. From inside, Scharl heard an urgent bubbling, as of boiling water. A large woman with the face of a porcelain doll and a stench of wild yam stepped forward and picked Scharl up without warning. The skin of her hands felt rough and calloused.
"Hey!" Scharl yelped.
The heady scent was stronger here, but even more so when his body impacted the surface of a brown liquid full of thick cut carrots, potatoes, and celery. The spicy, meaty taste of broth filled his mouth. Burning pain seared through his body, and he had a moment to think, Oh, Take Out, before merciful darkness overtook him.