by R. T. Jordan
When the camera again found Richard, he was smirking and shaking his head.
From the stage, Steven called on Brian Smith to offer his evaluation of Socorro and her rendition of “Torn Between Two Lovers.”
“Heya, Socorro,” he said, “I’ve been there. I think we all have. It’s tough when you can’t decide, but here’s a bit of advice, forget the heart, go for the gold!”
Again the audience erupted with applause, as though Brian had said the only sensible thing. Brian continued and said, “I’m only suggesting that if you love two guys, and one has money, catch the one with the dollar signs sparkling in his eyes!”
Steven looked out toward the audience. “Brian got lucky. His wife is stunning and rich. Stand up, Lyndie! I saw you sitting in the audience.” The camera found Mrs. Brian Smith. She halfheartedly waved and smiled uncomfortably.
“Good advice, my man,” Steven said to Brian as the camera now captured a smiling Polly Pepper. Polly looked at Socorro and said, “Lovely, dear. And nowadays, having two people who love you is rare. The song is very hopeful. And I sincerely hope that your mother is feeling better.”
Steven Benjamin acknowledged that Socorro’s mother had been hospitalized for “a trauma to her head.” He then shot Polly a stern look.
“I’m sure that if they allow television in the lock-down ward at Cedars, your performance tonight is helping your mother to recuperate,” Polly said. “Plus, there’s a rumor spreading like intestinal bacteria in Mexico that we’re in for a very special surprise!”
When the lights in the audience again went up, Polly found Tiara Benjamin standing by her side.
“Lovely to see you again, Polly,” Tiara said. “I wanted to say hello before the cocktail crush after the show. You know how those things are, with a sea of studio execs and all the wankers who’ve worked on the show mingling and drinking, I might not be able to find you.”
Polly stood up to embrace Tiara. “Love your outfit. Valentino?” she said, holding Tiara’s hands and stepping back to view her clothes. “I know you never come to the show, but I’m happy that you decided to make an exception for me tonight.”
“I’m here as much for Steven,” Tiara said.
“And thank you for your kind invitation. Love the stationery. And the type font is precious! I always think it’s a grand idea to celebrate milestones in our lives. An anniversary. Nothing could be more exciting!” She looked into Tiara’s eyes. “My goodness! Ten glorious years of love, comfort, honor, fidelity, et cetera. All that crap that one has to promise to one’s partner. I don’t know that I could ever do that again. Sounds good on paper, but there are so many temptations, especially in this town where everybody is beyond gorgeous!”
Tiara sighed. “Yeah, I suppose marriage has never been a breeze for anyone. Still, I like being attached to one bloke. Especially a bloke who is as attractive and seductive as my Steven. Even if he wanted to leave me, I’d never let him go.”
“Toothache all gone?” Polly inquired.
“Toothache? Oh, absolutely! Steven cracked a tooth on something silly like cotton candy.” She looked up at the stage searching for a glimpse of her husband; then she looked at her watch. “I’d better scatter back to my seat. The show’s about to continue. See you in a tick or two. Yes?”
As Tiara left the judges’ area and wended her way back to her seat in the VIP section of the audience, Polly took out her invitation to Steven and Tiara’s upcoming anniversary party. She caressed the fine linen paper and stared at the words for such a long time that Brian Smith leaned over and said, “Are you memorizing the invitation?”
Polly smiled. “I was just thinking what an amazing woman Tiara is. And I adore how Brits use the English language better than we do. Steven should be in heaven.” Polly placed the notepaper back in its envelope and slipped it into her clutch purse. She looked down to the end of the table and saw Richard speaking into his cell phone. “Can you believe that man?” she said to Brian. “He hasn’t said one word to me. I dug out an expensive bottle of Veuve to bring as a gift. I’m glad I decided to drink it myself.
“So, Brian, you were about to tell me rumors….” The announcer counted down, “Five. Four. Three. Two …”
Chapter 26
“And we’re back,” Steven said from the stage. “Since this is our last time together, and before our popular interview section of the program, let’s walk down memory lane, and take a look at a few of the more exciting moments from the past five weeks.”
Instantly, the lights in the studio dimmed, the curtains behind Steven parted, and a large movie screen was revealed. A montage of images of the contestants and judges filled the screen, as a documentary about the making of I’ll Do Anything to Become Famous began to play.
Polly and the studio and television viewing audience watched as potential contestants first auditioned for the program. Some were mortifyingly awful, while others, especially Ped-Xing, seemed at home in front of the camera and found an easy rapport with the audience. Images of the first night and the cruel treatment that each contestant on the stage had received from Thane Cornwall made the audience boo. But then there were the backstage rantings of the contestants, each of whom had scathing words for Thane, and threats of being accountable for his quick demise. These made the audiences roar with approval, despite the fact that each of the contestants’ promises for retribution had come to pass. Thane was as dead as they’d all pledged.
As the montage continued, Polly watched clips from the shows that she had missed. She found herself rooting with the audience when the screen filled with Richard Dartmouth proclaiming, “Miranda’s diaphragm must be filled with nuclear waste because there was no other way to account for her freakishly deformed and mutilated singing.”
“Boo!” Polly joined the audience.
And then the orchestra began to play the somber “Goin’ Home” as the screen momentarily went to black and the words IN MEMORIAM appeared. A moment later, a photograph of a smiling Thane Cornwall appeared, accompanied by his name and the years of his birth and death. The audience was respectfully silent. Then, an image of Danny Castillo filled the screen. Again, the audience was reverent. Finally, the screen faded to black. As the lights in the studio illuminated the audience, Steven Benjamin returned to the stage and led the applause.
“Thane Cornwall. Danny Castillo,” Steven said. “Both men provided their unique talents to this show and we will always be grateful for their contributions.”
After a short moment of dignified silence, Steven continued his job as host. “Ped-Xing and Socorro have come a long way, but tonight only one will receive the coveted Get out of Jail Free card for proving that they’ll do anything to become famous. Up until now, our television viewing audience has voted each week, but tonight, the studio audience will determine the winner. And there’s still one more hurdle to cross for our two remaining contestants.”
On cue, both contestants ambled center stage into the spotlight. Looking like juvenile delinquents being summoned before a criminal court judge, they stared down at Richard, Brian, and Polly, with looks that dared anyone to ask a question more difficult than to remember what they’d had for lunch.
Steven asked if Brian would be the first to pose a question to Ped-Xing.
Brian smiled and said, “Man, I shouldn’t say this, but I think you’ve already nailed it. You said you’d do a lot of stuff that I’d be too much of a sissy to try. But when you said you’d even work with Vince Vaughn in order to succeed, I figured for that misery you deserved to win. But for tonight, I’ll just ask, ‘What have you done over the past few weeks that you never in a million years thought you’d do in order to win this game and be on your way to becoming famous?’“
Ped-Xing thought for a long moment. Finally, he said, “I’m not a ‘what goes around comes around’ kinda guy. Morals and ethics are for tree huggers and dudes who believe in karma and divine retribution, and stuff. I don’t care about saving the planet or the spotted white owl. I
’m into saving me! So I’m not afraid of going to hell for doing what I had to do to stay in the running to win this contest. I took out an obstacle that would have given Taco Bell the edge.”
The audience started to chant, “Ped-X-Ing! Ped-X-Ing! Ped-X-Ing!”
“I mean, the dude was going to reveal something pretty shocking. We’re just keeping him quiet until I win the game,” Ped-Xing said.
Brian continued his questioning. “So what did you do to this person? Is he or she still breathing?”
“I’m not a killer, like some people around here,” he said, looking into Brian’s eyes.
Brian evil-stared back at Ped-Xing. “What did this person have that threatened you and your own dishonesty and illegal activities?”
Ped-Xing shrugged. “I could have won this idiotic contest without kidnapping, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Plus, holding someone against their will is a pretty good way to keep racking up the points, too,” he said. “The dude is cool about it.”
The audience chanted his name.
Steven Benjamin lifted his microphone to his lips and said, “Way to go! I’m sure the audience will give you a ton of credits for abduction! Wow! Who would have thought?” And then he looked at Richard Dartmouth. “Mr. D.! It’s your turn to make ‘em squirm. Go for the gold, man!”
Ped-Xing adjusted his stance as if to withstand a blast from Hurricane Richard.
Richard leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re a wily one, aren’t you? Every week you come before this tribunal and tell us tales of the things you’d do to win fame. I don’t believe half of the things you say. Now you’ve added kidnapping to your improbable résumé of felonies. I’d like to take a wild guess as to who that someone is with the ability to reduce your chance to win.”
Ped-Xing shrugged.
“We’ve been missing an assistant for the past few days. Michael. That kid who used to work for Thane. He hasn’t shown up for work since Wednesday. I’ll wager that he’s the victim of your crime.”
Again, Ped-Xing shrugged.
“What were you were afraid he was going to reveal? Could it have been …” Richard Dartmouth stopped for a moment and let Ped-Xing sweat about what he feared Michael had planned to say, and the possibility that Richard already knew and was going to do the job himself.
“Michael and Socorro were plotting against me,” Ped-Xing said with a defiant sneer.
Socorro shouted, “No! Michael has to be here!”
“Your mama’s not coming to your rescue either,” Ped-Xing said. “Just be glad that I have a heart. He’s safely watching the show.” He looked to the camera. “Yo! Dude! You’ll be free after tonight. We’ll grab a beer, okay? No hard feelings.”
Richard leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “You’re not going to tell us why you kidnapped the kid?”
“Specifically?”
“What else.”
“Nope.” Ped-Xing stared at Richard, knowing that the producer-turned-judge had to be fully aware of the drama that would have unfolded had Ped-Xing not taken measures to remove Michael from the equation, and daring him to make any accusations.
“I know why he kidnapped Michael,” Socorro yelled. “Because Michael has a ton of evidence showing how far I’ve personally gone to eliminate the losers on this show, and prove what I’ve done to become the winner!”
Richard shook his head. “Curiously, when I developed this show, I wanted to prove that some people would literally do anything, and I mean anything, to get a few minutes of face time on the tube. You’re both exactly what I’d hoped for. You’re deceitful, crafty, scheming, untrustworthy, dishonest, and unscrupulous. You’re my poster kids for Machiavellian behavior in Hollywood.”
“A man after your own heart?” Ped-Xing said. “Hollywood corrupts. Maybe it’s true that you can’t get to where you’re going in this town without killing off a few rivals along the way. I have my own means to the end.”
Richard Dartmouth gave a self-confident smile. “As I always say, one does what one has to do.”
“Right on, bro,” Ped-Xing said.
“Me, too!” Socorro cried out.
In the studio’s sound booth, the director spoke into the cameramen’s headphones. “Camera number one to Steven Benjamin. Camera number two, wide angle on the judges’ table. Number three, stay with Ped.”
When Steven received the director’s signal, he smiled and ad-libbed for a minute about the fate of Michael and how a kidnapping charge was pretty much proof that indeed Ped-Xing was the challenger most likely to win the competition. Then he cut to the next bank of commercials.
Brian Smith leaned over to Polly and asked, “What the hell’s Ped talking about? What’s his ‘means to the end’?”
Polly smiled and shook her head. “You’ll see. It’s coming up after the break.” She then reached into her purse and speed-dialed Tim’s cell phone number.
Tim’s phone vibrated in his pants pocket. He surreptitiously removed it and, seeing Polly’s name on the readout, flipped open the phone. “Yeah?” He listened for a moment, then closed the phone. Tim turned to Placenta and winked. “I need to leave for a moment.”
Placenta gave him a knowing look. “She’s sure?” she asked.
Tim nodded his head and excused himself as he squeezed past Lyndie and Tiara and the others in his aisle.
In a moment, the show was back live. Steven Benjamin looked at Polly. “Miss Pepper, would you pose a question to Ped-Xing, or graciously pass? We’re running out of time, so if you’ll allow us to move on, you’ll definitely interview Socorro first.”
“I’m fine,” she said into her microphone. “I just want to wish Ped-Xing good luck!”
Steven was visibly delighted. He called Socorro back to the stage. “You look a little rattled.”
“All my plans!” Socorro grimaced. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, but the rules were changed without me knowing.” Then she looked at Polly and said, “Hit me with your best shot, star lady.”
Polly took her microphone out of the table stand, stood up, and faced the stage. “And I wish you all the luck in the world, too, Socorro. I know you’ve worked hard at being dastardly throughout the course of the competition. In fact, I’ve seen the evidence in so many unexpected ways. You may be happy to know that even without your mama or Michael to help you out tonight, I’m the next best thing.”
Socorro forced a smile. “I figured you might be smarter than people give you credit for being. Hell, kidnapping is small potatoes compared to what I had up my sleeve.”
Steven Benjamin said, “Tick, tick, tick.”
“Very sorry,” Polly said. “It’s just that since this is the last night of the competition, there’s so much I want to say. I know that I don’t have all the time in the world, so let me just pose one teensy question.
“Excuse me for one moment, dear,” she said to Socorro. “I do have a question, but I must direct it to … Steven Benjamin.”
Steven gave Polly a warm smile. “Reruns of Mary Tyler Moore start in twenty minutes,” he said in his charming voice. “Can’t let the nation’s fans be deprived of Mary and Ted and Valerie and Ed and the Happy Homemaker.”
“This’ll just take a sec, dear.” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Steven, hon, why did you kill Thane Cornwall and Danny Castillo?”
The audience roared with laughter. But when Polly didn’t laugh with them, they started to murmur among themselves. Steven’s smile, however, grew wider. “No wonder you’re famous, you’re a very funny lady.”
Polly grinned. “I try. Sometimes I make people wet their pants.” Then she looked up to the control booth. “Mr. director, dearest, would you please run the DVD that my darling son, Tim, brought to you a few minutes ago? You’re a doll. You’re in my will!”
Then the lights above the stage were dimmed, as were the lights in the audience. A large screen rolled down automatically from the ceiling and hung in front of the stage. The
DVD marked Anything Goes—2 of 6 began to play.
The audience began to laugh; then they sniggered and began a series of noisy wolf calls. As they oohed and aahed, the orchestra conductor picked up his baton and led his musicians in an unrehearsed rendition of Ravel’s “Bolero.” Soon there were whoops and whistles from the audience. And when the DVD played itself out and the lights on the stage were once again illuminated, Steven stood looking shell-shocked.
Again Polly asked, “Why did you, Steven Benjamin, kill Thane Cornwall?”
Steve shot back, “I had nothing to do with Thane’s death! And what has some doctored DVD showing people engaged in lewd activities got to do with Thane or me? It was his assistant, Lisa Marrs, who killed him. She’s in jail for it!”
Polly shook her head. “She certainly wanted to kill the son of a bitch. But she was just one of many on a long wait list. You forced your way to the head of that line. Why? You used to be friends.”
Steven gave his signature smile to the camera and said, “We’ll be back after these messages.” He continued smiling, waiting for the director to announce that they were no longer in the live feed.
“Nobody wants to cut away when the story is getting so juicy, sweetums,” Polly said. “So let’s give ‘em a really good drama, shall we? Think of the ratings!”
Steven stopped smiling. He walked over to the tall staircase on the set and sat down on the second step. With his microphone in one hand he resembled a denim-clad version of The Thinker. “I’m all ears.”
Polly came out from behind the judges’ table and walked up to the stage. She stood in the spotlight and for an instant she was back on the set of The Polly Pepper Playhouse. She could feel herself drifting back in time and almost unable to keep herself from asking if the audience wanted to see her popular sketch comedy character Bedpan Bertha, the klutzy nurse. Or Madam Zody, the fake psychic. Suddenly, Polly began singing “Send in the Clowns.” When she completed the song, the audience gave her a standing ovation.
“Comfortable up here?” Steven’s patronizing tone reeled her back to the moment.