“Go ahead.”
“Do you remember that conversation we had that afternoon when we had lunch at the Comeback?”
“You are kidding, aren’t you? Probably the most important hour in my entire career.” He paused. “Are you ready to let me reveal to the world who came up with the whole game plan?”
Stonetree shook his head, frowning slightly. “No.”
“Then what?”
“Remember when we were talking about Taylor and Carrie Underwood and Katy and Kelly Clarkson and Stef? About what songs they might perform and… and then returning as backup singers?”
“Sure. Even the bit about how they’d all be wearing different black outfits with a… was it white accessories?”
“White accessories.” He looked away then back. “Did you ever… have you ever discussed… told anybody about that?”
“I… no. Why would I?”
“Well you used, and I’m happy you did… you used a lot of the ideas we tossed around.”
“Yeah, and?”
“But you never mentioned those details to anyone?”
Spotswood hesitated to think it through. “Never came up.”
“You’re certain?”
“Positive. Once the Battle of the Bands was on the table, Potcheck and Ben ran with it. Matter of fact, aside from The Alliance and Obsession… I don’t even know who’s on the Special Guest list.”
“Why not?”
“Their call, not mine.” He paused. “So why’re you so concerned about... I mean, we were riffing on a shit load of stuff.”
“Probably nothing.”
Spotswood sipped then shook his head. “C’mon. What is it, Dave?”
Stonetree retrieved his glass then drained it. “I keep… remember how you asked me if I’d seen the concert on pay-per-view?”
“Nope.”
Stonetree leaned away then let out a deep breath. “I know this is gonna sound crazy but Jip, it’s as if I did see one.”
“One what?”
“Like I actually saw what was going to happen tonight.”
Spotswood chuckled. “Know what I think? I think between having a new wife and a new gig where you actually have to… how many hours you putting in these days at the Foundation?”
“A lot.”
“How many a lots?”
“Sixty, sixty five.”
“Between Shar and work and cruising around in that dream car Doctor Camden bought’cha… ”
“It’s up on blocks for the season.”
Spotswood smiled. “There you have it. You are so stressed out that… ”
“Excuse me,” Denny said as she walked in, pirouetting once to show off her outfit as she slung the leather blazer in her hand over a shoulder and struck a sassy pose. “Too flashy?”
The sequined bustier top revealed some curves Spotswood hadn’t noticed before, nor the shapely, buff legs descending from her tight short skirt, complimented nicely by her softly ratted hair and smoky makeup.
“Denny? Dave Stonetree.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir. Could you give me an opinion?”
“You look great.”
“I’d definitely have to agree,” Spotswood added. “So you’ve got a duty free night off?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, right. At least Eyes popped for the jacket to pack my gear in which, I might add, I get to keep.” She playfully shook her head. “Said a shoulder holster’d be in apropos.”
She checked her watch. “Don’t mean to break up the party but I’ve got orders to get you upstairs in half an hour.” She paused. “As in, after you do whatever you’re going to do before then.”
He looked to his guest. “How about we continue your stress test later?”
Stonetree nodded and she left.
“Nice girl,” Stonetree offered. “Reminds me a little of Lisa.”
“Lisa?”
“At the reception? Used to work for Uncle Chuck?”
“Oh… that Lisa.” He thought a beat. “Yeah, kinda.” He thought another moment. “Did Chuck ever firm up his plans to come out for the festivities? He was a little vague about his plans when I talked to him. Something about his trip needing more definition.”
Stonetree nodded. “Pretty sure he got that straightened out.”
“So’d he ever explain exactly what he was going to be working on?”
His friend chuckled. “Uhhh... he said something in Italian but it was in a dialect I’d never heard.” He smiled. “Maybe something about people who hear voices?”
“Like people who’re nuts? Shouldn’t be hard finding a large cross-section of them out here, huh?”
Stonetree frowned. “Shouldn’t be hard at all.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Potcheck Enterprises Games welcomes you to the exclusive worldwide broadcast here on Fox of the World Standoff! Tournament weekend,” announcer Kevin Sultan began, “brought to you by Jennings Cold Fusion, Analog Machinery Incorporated, Pinkiefinger dot com, Southern United Enterprises, Data Empire, Coors Light, Babylon Systems, Jeep and additional sponsors. And now, covering The Battle of the Bands, here are your hosts Jip Spotswood and Connie Scanlan.”
“Happy New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day or whatever your clocks and calendars are reporting. I’m Jip Spotswood.”
And I’m Connie Scanlan.”
“Connie, it’s only 7:20 here in the Pacific time zone but we’ve already had quite a day at Prism.”
“We have indeed. First there was that absolutely incredible extravaganza earlier when we were introduced to the Pyramid of Change and had the drawing of the first quintet of lucky winners of five million dollar awards from Ben Walbee’s No Time For Change charity. If that wasn’t enough, we then witnessed the second and third rounds of the one hundred million dollar World Standoff! Tournament which has resulted in a virtual tie among the Final Four leading in to tomorrow’s last match that’s going to produce the champion. Toss in two additional winners of five million dollar awards in the No Time For Change lottery and one might think Okay, that’s enough excitement for now.”
“Well, according to my notes we’ve got just a bit more coming up soon that will be watched… the current viewership is estimated at four point one billion and is expected to increase once we direct our attention to the stage here in the Oasis Theater when Christie Cramer, Billy Blair and The Alliance square off against Pandora’s Obsession in The Battle of the Bands.”
“And after that friendly dustup, as Obsession’s leader Laura Loveland previously referred to it, we are expecting a lineup of pop and rock star special guests to complete what one writer once predicted would prove to be the biggest rock concert ever held in the history of the universe. And you’re that writer, Jip. Legend has it that the idea for the Battle was yours but up until now you’ve refused to take credit for it. Has the time arrived for you to come clean?”
“Connie, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. While I did suggest the format and the possible headliners, both those details were cribbed from somebody else. His identity, or her’s I might add, before you ask, will remain a secret until he or she decides otherwise.”
“I’ve received thousands of texts and emails and phone calls to ask that precise question. So if you’re going to… ”
“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“So if no reveal, could you at least give us some clues?”
Spotswood hesitated then smiled sheepishly, “Could I? Sure. Will I? Nope.”
“Then let’s take a… how about some handicapping?”
“That I can do.”
“Your pair of current number one best sellers, Wheels Up and Inside The Box, each cover two week periods that you spent on tour with the competitors. You are the de facto authority on the strengths and possible weaknesses of both bands. How about sharing some of your objective opinions with our audience?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Then let’s start with their respective strengths an
d weaknesses.”
“The Alliance has been doing this for decades. While they’ve had a number of personnel changes over the years, they’ve always had that core of Polanski, Lera and Stanton. Add in the current additional members and you’ve got some very heavy artillery. However, a couple issues might hamper them tonight including Harry Hansen’s arthritic fingers and Billy Blair’s voice. I’d say both are questionable and without the two of them in top form the music could suffer.”
“Pandora’s Obsession?”
“What they lack in experience is made up for with the sheer enthusiasm and spark they bring to the table. Add in Laura Loveland’s exquisite vocals and stage presence, a crack rhythm section and their great catalogue, it’ll make for a daunting challenge to anyone trying to outplay them. But that lack of experience could also detract from their performance when faced with the confidence I’m sure CCBBA will muscle in as soon as… actually, I’m not sure how but I wouldn’t put it past Andy throwing them off-balance before the music even starts.”
“You’re referring to Loveland’s bouts with stage fright?”
“I keep hearing about that but I’ve never personally seen it. More a matter of… it comes down to confidence. And The Alliance holds that edge.”
“I’ve done some research into the topic of battles of the bands and a couple things stood out. The first is that you want to get the judges attention early on while on the other hand the most valuable weapon is being able to perform the final song. Under tonight’s format, each group performs a single number then the other replies, a process repeated seven times. A flip of a coin will determine the order. Depending on who wins that flip, what would you venture will go into the decision process?”
“If CCBBA gets to choose, I have absolutely no doubt they’ll choose leading off. They’re… I’m guessing here… Lera and Polanski would like to have it settled by the fourth or fifth round. Pam Watts, the mistress of all things strategic, and again I’m guessing, would probably covet that final spot so that’s how I’d say it’ll shake out.”
“And as to leading off, what would you advise them each to start with?”
“Both should probably get their most recent hits out of the way so there’s more room for surprise so I’d recommend Alliance going with Witchcraft and Obsession with their I’m Your Girl—Jessie’s Girl medley.”
“Could you elaborate on surprises?”
“Trotting out a best of set isn’t going to win anything. I’m sure we’ll hear at least one new number from each of them, not counting the mysterious 1964 novelty songs the rules require both bands to perform.”
“Any insights as to those? I’m really looking forward to hearing them.”
“Mick Stanton is the obvious choice to sing lead on whatever CCBBA chooses, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Pamela performed Pandora’s’.”
“Why?”
“With Mick just because he’s already a self-contained novelty and Pam’s got a great sense for ironic humor. Plus, while neither of them have great vocal ranges, crowds always respond well when they get a crack at a solo.”
“Another requirement is an acoustic number for each of the competitors.”
“Christie’s voice really shines on ballads so I’d guess her rather than Blair will handle that assignment. Count on Laura delivering a gem.”
“Coming up. Following some messages from our sponsors, Phil Schuster and Richie Levenfeld will give us a brief breakdown of the second two rounds of the one hundred million dollar, winner-take-all World Standoff! Tournament and what they’re expecting in tomorrow’s action. We’ll be showing some clips from our interviews with the combatants which might reveal clues to their game plans. Then Jip and I will return with some final thoughts ahead of a show with everything but Yul Brynner.”
They both laughed.
“CCBBA. Pandora’s Obsession. The Battle of the Bands. Live from the Oasis Theater at the Prism Resort and Casino. Here exclusively on Fox. Stay tuned.”
***
The showgirl sat alone before an oval mirror surrounded by forty bulbs that she toyed with using a remote control, searching for the ideal illumination. To her left were a trio of wigs on separate stands, all styled with short pageboy cuts and available in three different shades of red. To her right was an elaborate, specially prepared makeup case including templates along with a detailed instruction sheet outlining the precise steps necessary for her to achieve a face that would match those of the other women who were no doubt engaged in the same process. Hanging on hooks behind her, beside the flat screen, were the 13 elements of the costume they’d all be wearing ranging from the ostrich-feathered headdress down to the pair of rhinestone-encrusted pumps, all marked with removable tags lettered PP 51 spec.
As she began to arrange the containers of war paint and applicators and templates in the prescribed order, she glanced to the mirror at the reverse image of the flat screen as Jip Spotswood questioned Andy Polanski about the meaning of the inscription on the arch at the entrance to his ranch.
The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I could, but when he ventured on insult I vowed revenge.
She smiled, murmured, “I know exactly how you feel,” then refilled her champagne glass from the bottle in the ice bucket to her right.
Reaching to a leather backpack resting on the floor, she removed a Velcroed black elastic band two inches wide, bare except for the two hooked brackets connected to a small pocket of mesh and gently placed it on the table. Standing, she went to where her outfit was hanging, shedding her white panties then replacing them with the skimpy black ones that had been provided. Grasping the black fishnet pantyhose and the shoes, she returned to her chair and pulled on the stockings, one leg at a time. Stepping away, she regarded herself in the mirror, adding a few tugs to get them to fit perfectly. After slipping into the pumps she pirouetted, looking over her shoulder, seemingly pleased with how they complimented her legs. After removing the costume’s fantail from its plastic wrapper, she resumed her seat.
She grasped the black band and fastened it into the interior of the fantail then leaning over removed a small, handled gift sack from the backpack and removed the presentation case it contained. Opening it, she cautiously removed the gleaming Lady Smith and disengaged the cylinder to examine the five empty slots, blowing a few puffs of air into them. Setting the weapon aside she again reached into the sack, this time extracting a box of bullets that she opened just enough to display the first row of cartridges. After a hesitation and covering three with her thumb, she shook the remaining pair onto the counter, catching one as it began to roll away.
Loading them in, with a flick of her wrist she snapped the cylinder closed and adjusted it so the bullets would be next in line when the hammer was cocked. After inserting the weapon into the mesh, she nodded to her reflection in the mirror and whispered, “Like the man said.”
***
The two-shot camera came up in Broadcast Booth One showing Scanlan looking quizzically at Spotswood who was laughing hard enough to make him reach for a handkerchief in his back pocket to wipe away some tears.
“Jip? I believe you were about to… ”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he giggled, trying to catch his breath.” You do it.”
Scanlan glanced to his notes and pointed. “No. See it says right here that you do the lead for this segment.”
Spotswood chuckled hard, shaking his head. “I can’t.”
“We’ve got over four billion people waiting.”
“Okay, okay.” He calmed himself as best he could then looked into the camera. “Folks, some of you I’m sure saw it live and many have you have seen the video. And if you haven’t, you should.” He wiped at his eyes again. “Seventy-some years ago, a then-record breaking audience of 73 million viewers tuned into the popular Ed Sullivan Show on a Sunday evening for the first television broadcast of those four mop-topped lads from Liverpool that were on the verge… maybe they already were… of becoming the big
gest rock band in the history of the universe.” He coughed a few times. “Just before coming back on the air my partner and I were discussing how we should lead into the Battle of the Bands and Connie delivered a pitch-perfect imitation updated version of Mr. Sullivan’s intro that… you all must hear it to appreciate it.”He turned to Scanlan. “Please.”
“It wasn’t that good.”
“As Steely Dan would say, ‘Do it again. I beg you.’”
Scanlan thought a moment then put on a serious face, tugged at the lapels of his jacket and folded his arms across his chest. “Now yesterday and today our theater’s been jammed with newspapermen and hundreds of photographers from all over the nation, and these veterans agreed with me that this city never has witnessed the excitement stirred by these youngsters who call themselves CCBBA and Pandora’s Obsession. Now tonight, you’re gonna thrice be entertained by them. In ten minutes, and again in the second and third halves of our really big shew. Ladies and gentlemen… ”
Spotswood burst into another fit of laughter.
Scanlan shrugged. “Now that we’ve only got a few minutes before our scheduled break and my partner needs to compose himself, how about if we just get those messages from our sponsors taken care of. Coming up. CCBBA. Pandora’s Obsession. The Battle of the Bands. Here exclusively on Fox. Stay tuned.”
When the broadcast returned live, all the screen displayed was a single spotlight shining down on the front-center of the stage, the audience clapping and whistling and shouting in the background.
“We are looking at ground zero here at the Oasis where, as you can hear in the background, the audience is anxious for the Wizard of Prism to step out and get this really big… concert to commence. Jip? Tell out viewers a little about the man of the hour and the battle ground.”
“I first encountered Franklin Potcheck over a year ago, a few weeks after I’d signed on as Chief Correspondent for Pinkiefinger’s A and C operation. I of course was familiar with his back story and was expecting to meet… I don’t know… a man who rightfully deserved to be a bit full of himself, but was delighted to discover that he instead was a very, very humble man. Bordering on taciturn, if you will. Rather than impressing on me who was the big kahuna, he instead spent most of our conversation asking about my work, my plans for A and C, my thoughts on what alterations at Pinkie could improve the user experience. He said he’d read my first book twice and…
Weekend at Prism Page 21