Sometimes life is very well written.
—Barry Cryer
Lewis had grown tired of isolation. He had been declaiming passages from Ecclesiasticus for over an hour and had finally grown bored with the sound of his own voice. He was just beginning to feel sorry for himself when a piece of his door burned out. He backed off in alarm. Alex’s head appeared in the hole.
“Good morning, wankers,” said Alex in a ridiculously cheerful British voice. “This is your nine A.M. alarm call. Hands off cocks, on socks, and let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?”
“Oh man, am I glad to see you,” said Lewis. He climbed through the hole in the door and then stopped dead in astonishment as he saw the bedbot.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“Allow me to present Doris Carlton, the metal transvestite.”
“Please,” said Carlton. “This is no time for joking.”
“Oh my god,” said Lewis. “Why the hell is he dressed like that?”
“Shh,” said Alex, “don’t embarrass him. It’s a change-of-life thing.”
“Quickly this way,” said Carlton.
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere underneath the theater.”
They hurried along the corridors until they came to a heavy door with a flashing red light and a warning not to enter when the light was on. They entered anyway. There was no one around. They were definitely backstage now, for there were signs pointing towards MAKEUP, WARDROBE, ORCHESTRA, and STAGE.
“Wait,” said Carlton, “someone’s coming.”
They flattened themselves against the wall as footsteps approached.
“Shit,” said Alex.
“I’ll take him,” said Carlton.
They tensed. A short figure in spangly tights turned the corner sharply and almost fell over them.
“Hello,” said Keith, startled. “What have we here?”
He looked at the three of them frozen guiltily. Two comedians and a Bowie in drag.
“Don’t tell me,” he said. “Let me guess. You’re doing tableau vi-vant and your subject is The Wizard of Oz.”
“Good try,” said Alex, the first to recover from the shock, “but this is The Wizard of Id. Dorothy and the Tin Man have mated to produce a metal transvestite who likes cross-dressing. The scarecrow and I are running away together to open a Montessori school for the alternatively gifted and what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Checking my supplies as ordered,” said Keith. “It’s taken me a while. They have some ferocious lager on this ship.”
“What’s around there?”
“Just dressing rooms. Up those stairs is the stage door.”
“Anybody up there?”
“Stage doorman. But they’re beefing up security. Something’s happened.”
“What?”
“Dunno but everyone’s going crazy up there. Stopping you, searching you. Anyway I got my backstage pass.” He held up a tiny flamethrower.
“Must fly,” said Keith. “Nice to see you all looking so guilty. Bye, sweetie,” and he blew Carlton a kiss. “Love the costume. Don’t change a thing.”