Who needs money, when you’re funny?
—Randy Newman
They were met by a uniformed page in regulation white pants and blue jacket, holding a card with their names on it.
“Hello, I’m Jeffrey, your page for today. Welcome to the Princess Diana luxury cruise of the solar system,” he said. “If you would walk this way.”
“If I could walk that way…” said Alex.
“Don’t go there,” said Lewis.
They followed Jeffrey to a waiting cart, climbed aboard, and were whisked onto the express lane of a wide electric people mover. Passengers in holiday clothes were going about the business of the day, heading off to the many pools, the entertainment malls, or the three gigantic golf courses which occupied the space between the X’s. Keppler Cruise attendants in their blue-jacket-and-white-pants uniforms were everywhere, leading little groups or ferrying guests towards their quarters.
“You know how many people actually work here?” asked the page.
“About half?” suggested Alex.
The page ignored the gag and settled down to a list of statistics he had clearly swallowed parrot-fashion. Only Carlton feigned interest. Lewis watched the ads as they shot past, and Alex scanned the faces of their potential audience, looking for encouraging signs of their future.
“Largely LOLs,” he said.
“What’s that?” asked Carlton.
“Little old ladies,” said Alex.
The electron cart moved swiftly for a good five minutes before suddenly swinging off the main people mover towards some giant doors marked BACKSTAGE. They dismounted the cart and walked through security. Alex and Lewis were nodded through, but Carlton was stopped by the security guards and taken into a guarded area for screening.
“Security’s tight,” observed Lewis.
“You can’t be too careful with Brenda Woolley,” said the page.
“Someone going to steal her handbag?” asked Alex.
“Brenda Woolley does not carry a handbag,” said the page with dignity.
“Oops,” said Alex.
“What’s she like to work with?” asked Lewis.
“She is a star,” said the page, his eyes shining.
“Oh,” said Alex. “Thanks for the warning.”
“What exactly does that mean?” whispered Lewis.
“It means she has a whim of iron.”
They waited a further five minutes. There was no sign of Carlton.
“Look, perhaps you’d better leave him here,” said the page, “or you’ll be late for the Brenda Woolley Experience.”
“The what?”
“It’s what Miss Woolley likes to call her show. She doesn’t like the word ‘show.’ She thinks it’s common.”
They came upon a broad open area where several corridors met. Ahead of them there was a sudden shoving and pushing as a flurry of security guards broke through large double doors and held their arms wide as if to push people aside. This would have been more effective if there had been any people to push, but there was no one around. They yelled anyway.
“Stand back. Gangway. Make room. She’s coming through.”
“Good grief,” said Jeffrey in an awed voice. “It’s Brenda Woolley!”
He might have announced the arrival of God Herself.
“Ouch,” said Alex as he was shoved aside and pushed flat against the wall by a brute in a black serge uniform. “Be very careful,” said Alex. “I carry a lethal fart.”
“It’s true,” said Lewis. “There are two great gas giants in the solar system: him and Jupiter.”
“Don’t look at her, don’t make eye contact, and shut the fuck up,” said the security man.
“They’re on the show,” said the page.
“Where are their pins then?”
“They’ve only just arrived,” said Jeffrey. “I haven’t given them their security package yet.”
“All right, she can come through, it’s clear,” barked the mustache.
And now Brenda Woolley herself appeared, a vision in cream, her blond hair impossibly bouffant, her eyes outlined in black, a faint smile playing round her pastel pink lips. Her fierce green eyes, her signature blue mole at the corner of her mouth, her fine alabaster profile, all this they saw as the security mob led her forward. She avoided eye contact with anyone, but drew her shawl protectively around her like an overage Ophelia. She behaved like a small child, at once grateful and surprised by their treatment.
“What are they protecting her from?” asked Alex. “There’s nobody around.”
“She needs her privacy,” said Jeffrey.
They watched the retreating mob holding off the imaginary hordes around her in the empty corridor. It was both impressive and funny. A display of pure power and a sop to ego.
“Wow, that was close,” said Alex. “I could almost see her facelift.”
The security guard reluctantly let him go.
“Watch it,” he said.
“Thank you and fuck you too,” said Alex with a nice smile.
“She’s divine,” said Jeffrey in total awe as he watched her gliding away. “Totally divine.”
The divinity was not yet done with them. At the far set of double doors Brenda turned and looked back dramatically at the deserted corridor.
“You there,” she called, singling out Alex as if he were in the middle of a crowd.
“Me?” said Alex.
“Are you one of the guests on my Experience?”
“Yes.”
“We both are,” said Lewis.
“Do you have names?”
“No,” said Alex. “We can’t afford them.”
“Muscroft and Ashby,” said the page.
“Ah, Muscroft and Ashby, I do so adore country music.”
“That’s Alex and Lewis, not Clint and Billy Bob,” said Alex.
“They are comedians, Miss Woolley,” said the page.
“Oh, of course. Well, welcome. Welcome, one and all. And you, the cheeky one. Are you single?”
The blank faces of the security guards stared impassively at Alex.
“No,” said Alex, “I’m with him.”
“Aha,” said Brenda significantly as if divining the secret of his sexuality.
“I’m his partner,” said Lewis firmly.
“That’s all right by me,” said Brenda. “I’m very broad-minded,” and she swept away to more important things.
“Thanks a lot,” said Alex. “Now she thinks we’re gay.”
“You should be so lucky,” said Jeffrey.
He showed them to their dressing room in wounded silence. It was a smallish box with a bathroom attached. The box contained a sofa and a tiny table dwarfed by an enormous bowl of flowers with a card which said PLEASE ENJOY YOUR BRENDA WOOLLEY EXPERIENCE.
“Enjoy the Experience,” said the page, leaving them to the amenities.
“Do you think it’s like an out-of-body experience?” asked Alex.
“Not the way she was looking at you.”
“Oh come on, she’s old enough to be my mother.”
“You have a problem with that, Oedipus?” asked Lewis.
There was a discreet knock at the door.
“Hello, Jeffrey,” said Alex in his screaming camp voice. “Couldn’t tear yourself away from me?”
He opened the door. Katy Wallace stood there.
“Who could?” she said.
“Oh. It’s you.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” she said.
Disappoint. My God, she was dynamite. She had her hair pulled back from her face, which let him enjoy her high Slavic cheekbones and her deep brown eyes. Flawless olive skin, and those lips; when she smiled at him, he felt a deep desire to kiss them immediately. She exuded a kind of healthy animal confidence, as though she was entirely comfortable in her body, like a dancer or an athlete. He said nothing for a minute, just feasting his eyes and letting the wave of her perfume wash over him. She held his glance and then broke the silence.
“Nice to see you too, Mr. Muscroft.”
“Please call me Alex,” he said. “Though my real friends call me Bubbles.”
“Why Bubbles?”
“Because he’s forever blowing bubbles,” said Lewis, coming to the door.
“Flatulence will get you nowhere,” said Alex.
“Bubbles it is then.”
Lewis was all friendly. “Hi, we didn’t meet in the coffee shop. I’m Lewis. Thanks for all you have done for us, getting us here and all.”
“Believe me, it was nothing. I’m a big fan, though I’m afraid the crowd may not be quite what you’re used to.”
“Oh, we’ve played to LOLs before.”
She didn’t understand but let it pass.
“Look, I have to go. I just wanted to welcome you and give you these.”
She held two small metallic pins. “Security,” she said. “Keep them with you until you leave the ship.” She handed Lewis a clown and Alex an elephant head.
“What is this?”
“It’s a Ganesha,” she said. “A Hindu god. The Remover of Obstacles, I believe. Here, let me help you with it.” She took it back from him and stooped her head to pin it on him. He felt the warmth of her breath as she pinned the tiny elephant God on his lapel. I could quite easily kiss her, he thought. She must have had the same thought, for she looked at him suddenly and then stepped back.
“You mustn’t lose it,” she said.
“It will never leave my body,” said Alex.
She looked at him for a moment and then smiled, and left.
“Wow,” said Alex, “I think I’m in love.”
“Too bad you have a date with Brenda Woolley afterwards,” said Lewis. “But I’m free.”
Alex opened the door and ran after her. He caught up with her by a water cooler.
“Hi.”
“Oh, hello.” She was a little surprised to see him again so soon.
“What are you doing after the show?”
She frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you busy?”
“Well yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Ah. Too bad.” He was crestfallen.
“But thanks for asking.”
“This thing”—he indicated the security pin. “What’s it called again?”
“A Ganesha.”
“It’s Indian?”
“Yes.”
“Well, maybe we could have a curry sometime.”
“That would be nice.”
When he got back to the dressing room, Lewis was just leaving with the page.
“What’s up?”
“We have a problem in Security.”
“It’s your mechanical assistant,” said Jeffrey.
“Carlton?”
“They found something.”
In the security area, Carlton was emerging from a large scanner. Three security men were examining his printout. One of them approached Alex.
“Did you know he has some secure files from the Disney Library? It seems to be largely comedy material.”
“He’s been stealing?” said Lewis.
“Please,” said Alex. “They found some files is all.”
“He claims he’s doing research,” said the security man. “Into comedy.”
“Is this true, Carlton?” said Lewis.
“Well, I have a theory,” began Carlton. “It’s really only a rough outline at this stage, but I think comedy is a survival tool used by Homo sapiens to escape the consequences of their own brains. A way, if you like, of handling unpalatable truths.”
“Stop right there,” said Lewis. “I don’t want to hear this bullshit. We’re doing a show here, folks. We don’t need this, Alex.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault.”
“You told me he was clean.”
“It’s a comedy file from the twentieth century, for God’s sake.”
“He’s stealing old jokes!”
“I’m not stealing anything. It’s purely research material,” protested Carlton.
“Which you stole from the Disney Library?”
“I just copied a few files. I didn’t have a research card, that’s all.”
“We employ you as a droid.”
“I would never jeopardize my work for you. If you have any problems with me, I would be mortified.”
“I am very disappointed in you. Can you believe this, Alex. Our machine is researching comedy, for God’s sake.” He shook his head and stormed off.
“I am so sorry, Alex, I am so embarrassed.”
“Oh, he’ll get over it,” said Alex. “He’s superstitious. Thinks if he ever understands what he’s doing he won’t be able to do it anymore.”
One of the guards approached.
“Alex Muscroft.”
“Look, we know about the file and it’s not a problem for us.”
“Oh, it’s not about that, sir. Miss Woolley would like to see you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Now, sir.”
“What about?”
“I’m only Security, sir.”
“Well, call Insecurity. I think I’m going to need it.”
He was about to knock on the door of Brenda Woolley’s dressing room when a short terrierlike woman with artificial red hair, eyes too close together, and designer clothes which were surely designed for someone more attractive, stepped forward and tackled him.
“Hey, hold it right there,” she said. “Who are you? Where the hell do you think you’re going? The answer’s no. Good-bye.”
Alex shrugged and turned to walk away.
“Don’t you know she has a show to get through,” she yelled after him.
Like he gave a damn.
“Hey, wait,” she said suddenly. “Are you Alex Muscroft.”
He turned and didn’t deny it.
“I thought you’d be taller,” she said accusingly.
“I was,” said Alex.
“Well, she’s waiting for you. Come on.” She led him forward, then immediately stopped him. Pointing a sharp little finger at his chest. “One or two things,” she said. “Don’t speak unless she addresses you directly, don’t strain her voice, and don’t touch her, she’s very superstitious. She wants to apologize to you. You can tell her there’s no need.”
“Isn’t that up to me?”
“And above all don’t tire her before her performance.”
“What we gonna do, play basketball?”
The dressing room door opened and a young woman in tears emerged holding a dress on a hanger.
“Get the fuck outta here and don’t come back, you stupid bat.”
The terrier swung into action. Nodding to Alex to wait, she plunged into the room.
“Brenda, please, your voice.”
“Fuck my voice.”
“Then think of your public.”
“Oh Pauley, dear Pauley, you are such a friend to me. Whatever would I do without you?” Sounds of an embarrassing embrace.
“Mind your hair, dear,” said the terrier named Pauley. Then some low mutterings. Finally he heard Brenda say, “Oh, just one, Pauley, pretty please, Pauley, I’ve been ever so good.”
“You have a show to get through, my love. Think of your audience.”
“Help calm my nervsies,” said Brenda pleadingly.
Then some sounds he couldn’t make out. Eventually the terrier woman came back and stared at him defiantly. “She’ll see you now,” she said.
When he entered, Brenda had recovered her composure. The room was rococo. He felt a strong sense of gilt.
“Ah, the country singer,” said Brenda, staring at him in her golden makeup mirror.
“Comedian.”
“I know, I’m teasing you, dahling. Though I must confess I did think at first you were the Barrel Brothers. Silly little me.”
Little? thought Alex. There was way too much of her.
“Everyone knows country singers wear hats, don’t they. Even when they’re in bed.”
She let him digest the thought of her and two country singers called the Barrel Brothers in bed with their hats on. He winced. She didn’t notice. She was simply not available for other people’s feelings.
“Forgive me, dear Alex, but I’m always so distracted before a show. You have no idea the pressure. You must forgive me. I know you will dear. Of course I love your work. I adore it. I love comedy.” She seemed to speak in italics. “Pauley dear, tell him how much I love comedy.”
“That’s enough now, Brenda.”
“I thought you were a friend of Dorothy’s, but a little friend has told me that you’re not.”
They ran research on his sexuality?
“So perhaps you’d like a little drinkey after the show?”
“Thanks,” said Alex, “but I don’t drink.”
“I’m not supposed to either, but we can make an exception, can’t we?”
“Twelve-step program,” said Alex.
“I always stumble at the doorstep,” said Brenda. “Don’t I, Pauley? So how about it? Come out with me afterwards, we can have some fun.” She clasped his hand. “I know you’re going to be so great on my show. Please don’t run over. Some of our comedians have a tendency to go on a bit, but remember the poor audience, darling, they’re here for Brenda. I’ll send someone for you after the show.”
He was about to make an excuse when the terrier inserted herself physically and backed him through the door.
“Don’t say no,” said Pauley fiercely. “She does hate no.”
“But I can’t make it later.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll probably forget.”
Feeling vaguely insulted, Alex went off searching for Lewis.
He found Carlton surrounded by chorus girls. The girls were wearing feathers and little else. They were all over him. Alex felt envious. Their droid was far too good-looking. He was a fresh-faced blond-haired doll. Alex was always pushing women off him.
“Leave him alone, will ya?”
“Ooh, can we borrow him tonight?”
“No.”
“Oh, please don’t be mean, he’s so cute.”
“Get something real,” said Alex. “Or sit on someone else’s droid.”
“Oh, it’s Mr. Grumpy.”
“Feeling a little inadequate, are we?” said a chorus girl, sliding her hand towards Carlton’s thigh.
“Stop it,” said Alex. “He’s only got batteries in there.”
“What about you,” she said, “batteries not included?”
“He’s just a humanoid vibrator to you, isn’t he?” said Alex.
“He’s the ideal date,” said the girl. “You can switch him off when you’re finished.”
The girls all giggled.
“Get real,” said Alex.
“No thanks. Tried real. It farts and snores and complains.”
“What’s that useless piece of skin at the end of a penis called?”
“A man!” they shrieked in chorus.