Monster Media 1994 #2/Monster Media No. 2 (Monster Media)(1994).ISO/magazine/rubyv33.zip/RUB33-10

Text File | 1994-05-27 | 19KB | 360 lines

Copyright 1994(c)

                        A WRITER'S CRUISE

     The phone rang stridently, startling Howard Belasco out of a
deep sleep.
     "This better be good. It's 4:15 in the blessed AM."
     "Morning, Howard. Dave Bates here."
     "Who? Do I know you?"
     "You might remember me from the Writers Conference."
     "Oh, I know YOU guys, alright. In fact, every mental health
facility in the country is acquainted with you people. What do
you want?"
     "Well, we're thinking about going on a little cruise and we
were wondering if you'd like to help us out."
     "Help you out how?"
     "Well, uh, er, like maybe give us the money to pay for it."
     "Why on Earth would I want to do that?"
     "Just to be nice."
     "HA!!! You must think I'm crazy."
     "My thoughts have nothing to do with this. I just figured
you'd be the logical person to ask."
     "Listen. After all the money I've spent on security just to
keep you people away from me, and then add to that what it cost
me to fix my modem after that Ruby thing popped out of it that
time, you don't really think I'm going to spend several thousand
dollars just to send you on a cruise, do you?"
     "We were kind of hoping you would, yes."
     "What possible reason would I have for wanting to do that?"
     "We'd all be away from our computers for a week."
     Howard immediately fumbled for his checkbook. "How much do you
want?"
                              ***
     Jackie Jones stumbled out of bed and groped in the dark
toward the ringing phone.
     "Four-twenty in the morning," she mumbled. "Who in the heck
could be calling at this hour?"
     She groggily picked up the receiver, nearly dropped it, and
recovered. "Hello. Who is this?"
     "Jackie," the voice on the other end called out, much too
cheerfully for the early hour. The voice sounded vaguely
familiar. "This is Dave Bates."
     "Dave, I'm gonna kill you slowly and painfully if you ever
call this early again. I'm --"
     "Guess what?  We're going on a cruise. All of us budding
writers."
     "We just came BACK from a cruise, you dolt."
     "I know that. That's why we elected you to head up the
entertainment committee. You and Curt are the only ones with any
experience at this sort of thing. Besides, this one's all paid
for. Bye."
     "Dave! DAVE!!" she shouted into the empty phone. "I'll get
you for this. That's a promise."
     Curt Akin was by now awake. He followed the angry sounds to
where Jackie was standing, still holding the telephone receiver.
     "What's going on?"  he asked sleepily.
     "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
     "Try me."
     "We're going on another cruise. And this time, we have to
provide the entertainment."
     "You're right. I don't believe you."
     "It's all paid for, too."
     "Who on Earth would want to do that?"
     Later that morning, after having downed several cups of very
strong coffee, Jackie began scanning the Yellow Pages.
     "If it's entertainment they want, then it's entertainment
they're gonna get. I'll give them entertainment all right.
Maybe I can book Pearl Jam. That'd fix them."
     She had flipped through about a dozen pages when her eyes
fell on a small but very interesting ad.

                          RELIGION ON THE RUN
                   Services tailor-made to your needs
                      No Denomination is too small.
                      Reverend Jimmie Ray Rose III
                              1-800-PRAYERS

     "Perfect. PERFECT!" Jackie was ecstatic. She had found
what she thought would be the perfect entertainment. "If there's
one thing this group could use, it's a little of that old time
religion."  She picked up the phone and punched the number.
     "Leave it all in my hands, my good woman," the friendly
voice of Jimmie Ray Rose intoned over the phone. "We'll make all
the arrangements, even down to sending out the invitations.
We'll see to it that the lambs are, shall we say, led down the
path of righteousness. All you need to do is show up and enjoy."
     Jackie hung up. "This is easier than I thought. Maybe this
won't be so bad after all. Dave may have just saved himself from
a gruesome death in my next story."
     "You're going to hurt him in a story?" Curt asked. "That
isn't much of a punishment. He'd just be a character in a
story."
     "That's OK. So are we."
                              ***
     "Great balls of fire, Mama," Ruby Begonia shouted. "We're
going on a cruise?"
     "Not 'we', WE," Del stated, indicating herself and David.
"There's no way you're going. Putting you on a ship with a group
of friends and no possible way to escape is out of the question.
Besides, how would we ever get you past customs?"
     "No problem, Mama. I'm virtuous."
     "That's VIRTUAL. Virtuous is something you most certainly
are not."
     Ruby's lower lip puckered a bit at that remark, but she went
right on packing her "So Many Men...So Little Time...But Take a
Number" tote bag. "Lessee, tanning oil, hair spray, Crisco, blow
dryer. Yep, that should do it."
     Del sighed the sigh of the defeated. She knew there was no
real way to keep Ruby off the ship, virtual as she was. "I'll
probably be banned from the net for life, and the life after
that. But what can I do?"
     "Simple," David said. "Make sure Bobby Joe Brick is on the
ship. Ruby'll be so busy with him she won't have TIME for much
mischief."
     Del felt David's forehead with the back of her hand. "Hmmm,
you're not running a fever. I think you've just been out in the
sun too long. Maybe you'd better rest awhile with a nice, cool
soft drink. Besides, how can I make sure that happens?  They're
just characters."
     "So are we."
     Del shrugged. "I can't argue with that logic."
     Perhaps this cruise would be just the ticket, Del thought.
And all paid for, too. "Who on Earth would want to do that?"
she asked herself.
                              ***
     Kent Ballard opened the envelope with care. The return
address was from some travel agency. "Probably just another
scam," he said to Tess as he tore it open.
     He hadn't read more than one minute when he looked up at
Tess. "Well I'll be ... this thing's on the level. We've been
invited on a cruise. All expenses paid. And listen to this -
they want me to bring my rockets. Pack our bags. We've got no
time to lose."
     "But we don't have any vacation time yet. How are we going
to get time off?"
     "We're characters. We can do anything we want."
     "All expenses paid, you say?" Tess asked skeptically.
     "Yup. That's what it says."
     "Who on Earth would want to do that?"
                              ***
     Rosemary McGuire had all the winter she could handle. It
was blowing snow for the fourth straight day in the Windy City.
The last thing in the world she needed at this point was some
slick brochure from a fly-by-night travel agency with a photo of
a tropical beach on it. She ripped the envelope open while
melting snow dripped onto it from her soaked hair.
     "You are cordially invited to join the Writer's Conference
on a sun- and fun-filled one week cruise, all expenses paid," the
letter read. "Escape from the Winter Wearies with your closest
friends." A map and further information were attached.
     "All expenses paid! Who on Earth would want to do that?"
     Suddenly the door blew open and an icy blast of lake effect
snow ripped through the house. "That's IT! I'm going on this
thing even if it IS a rip-off. Count me in."
                              ***
     "Whoooo EEEEEE!" Bobby Joe Brick shouted as he ran up the
front steps and through the front door, nearly knocking Dave
Bates down in the process. "Ah'm a'goin on a cruze with all mah
best buds. Ruby 'n' Sludge, 'n' y'all a'course."
     "Now how did you find out about this cruise? I certainly
didn't tell you about it."
     "Shoot, pard. Ah got mah own invite raht cheer." Bobby Joe
held up a familiar looking letter.
     "You can barely read two words. Just how do you know that
invitation is for you?"
     "Cuz Ah had the guy down ta tha seven-leven read it ta me,
thet's how. Hain't this a'gonna be just finer than frog's hair,
pard?"
     "Right! Frog's hair. I can't wait." Dave was beginning to
wonder what kind of monster he had conceived.
                              ***
     "Wow!" Frank Hagen said, nearly dropping his newspaper.
"Louise, is that you?"
     "Yep. It's me all right."  Louise was stunning in her size
6 evening gown. Her ravishing lashes curled gently upward,
elegantly outlining her beautiful lavender eyes and nearly
intertwining with her raven locks.
     "I don't remember you looking quite this, er, youthful
earlier today."
     "I'm a character. I can look however I want. Besides, look
at you. You have thick, dark curly hair again."
     Frank reached up and stroked his head. "You're right. Hey,
this being a character may not be so bad after all. But why are
you dressed like this in the middle of the day?"
     "Well, it was the least I could do seeing as how we're going
on the cruise and all."
     "Cruise!  What cruise?"
     "Why, the Writer's Conference cruise, of course. We're both
invited for," Louise read from the brochure, "sun and fun with all
our friends. And the best part is, it's all expenses paid."
     "The devil you say! All expenses paid?"
     "Yep."
     "Who on Earth would want to do that?"
                              ***
     "Are you sure this preacher was such a good idea?" Curt
asked, concerned. "He doesn't even have anyone helping him set
things up."
     "He told me he'd handle everything," Jackie said. "I took
that to include setting things up. I asked him about his helpers
and all he said to me was that they'd be here."
     "I hope you're right, because our guests are starting to
arrive." Curt nodded toward the other end of the dock, where
cars were beginning to pull into the parking spaces.
     "I never thought this was part of being a conference host.
I'll bet none of the other conferences make their hosts do this
stuff. All I can say is these guys better appreciate this."
     "Put on a happy face, dear," Curt said quietly through a
forced smile. "They'll hear you."
     "Jackie. Curt. Great to see you," Dale Lehman said as he
bounded up the walkway. "The others are right behind me. We
should all have a really good time."
     "I certainly hope so," Jackie replied. Only Curt recognized
the cynicism in her voice.
     "Hello. Hello," Bill Slattery called. "Where's the bar?
I'm so dry I believe I'll crack. Kent, my good man, care to join
me for a tall, cool one?"
     "Maybe later. Right now, I have to get these fireworks
stashed below and ..."
     "FIREWORKS!" Jackie shouted. "You brought fireworks?"
     "That's what the invitation asked me to do. You mean you
didn't know about this?"
     "Where's Bates?  His days of pain-free movement are about
over."
     "I'm right here," Dave said from behind her. "I had to make
sure Uncle Norman was here on time."
     "Uncle Norman?  You don't mean THE Norman Bates, do you?"
     "One and the same. He's agreed to help out in the galley as
part of his rehabilitation. The chef's got him chopping carrots
for the salad."
     "Are you crazy? You let him use cutlery? I'll never take a
shower again."
     "Not to worry. I've taken the liberty of making sure all
the shower stalls are equipped with iron curtains."
     "Can you do that? I thought that term was copyrighted."
     "I'm a character. I can do anything I want. Besides, I
figured since the Soviet Union didn't exist any more, they
weren't using it, so what the heck."
                              ***
     "Well," Kay Honaker said. "Looks like the gang's all here."
The cruise had been underway for twenty minutes and so far things
had gone smoothly. The gang was indeed all there.
     "One thing still bothers me, though," Jackie said. Del and
David are both here, but so far I haven't seen Ruby. If I know
her, she's got to make an appearance sooner or later, as only she
can."
     "You didn't send her an invitation, I hope," exclaimed a
worried Avenir Reynolds.
     "Indeed not. The guy I hired to entertain on this trip was
supposed to take care of the invitations. I gave him the guest
list and Ruby Begonia was certainly not on it."
     "Maybe this trip won't be a total disaster then," Kay
replied.
     "Hmmmph!" said Jackie.
                              ***
     Marty Weiss performed an olympic quality half-gainer,
sending a huge wave over the group of women. "Marty, we haven't
been away from the dock for half an hour and we're already
soaked," Jackie shouted. "Now come out of that pool and dry off.
The program is about to start."
     "Sorry," said Marty apologetically. He swam tenaciously to
the shallow end of the pool, hoisted himself out of the water
with one hand and stood up on the pool apron to a decidedly
unappreciative audience.
                              ***
     The group began to gather in the Coral Lounge, which was
decorated for the evening's program. At the center of the lounge
was a jewel-bedecked circular stage flanked by enough lighting to
put Times Square to shame. "Please be seated, relax and prepare
to enjoy tonight's show," said the man at the entrance.
     "I know that guy from somewhere," said Kent to Del, who was
behind him. The man was wearing a blue sequined tuxedo and white
bucs. Kent found a seat and continued staring at the strangely
familiar maitre 'd. "I just can't quite place the face."
     "If he wasn't so well dressed," Del said. "I'd swear that
was Sludge."
     "Nah," said David. "It couldn't be. Could it?"
     At seven sharp, the mountain of lights surrounding the stage
began to blink randomly. From behind the curtain, a cacophony of
music blasted from no less than ten huge speakers. The sound
rose to a crescendo and just as promptly as it began, stopped.
     "AND NOW, FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT AND ETERNAL SALVATION,"
boomed a recorded voice through the speakers. "RELIGION ON THE
RUN IS PROUD TO PRESENT ... THE MOST REVEREND JIMMIE RAY ROSE THE
THIRRRDDD!!!" The entire bank of lights exploded into
brilliance, the music rose to jet engine volume, and the Most
Reverend Jimmie Ray Rose III, resplendent in his mirrored suit,
slowly emerged from beneath the stage atop a power lift.
     "Brothers and Sisters of the flesh," he began. "Just let me
start out by saying that all my friends call me JR. Are you all
my friends tonight?"
     "Sure, why not?" answered Slats weakly from the general
direction of the bar. From the rest of the group, no response.
Most of them were looking in Jackie's direction, trying to decide
whether to throw her overboard now or later. Jackie began to
sink lower in her seat, hoping to disappear belowdecks.
     Jimmie Ray began his patented show. He trooped back and
forth on the circular stage waving his arms and pointing at the
sky. "We need to make our make our church WALK, uh. We need to
make our souls SING, uh. We need to bring ourSELVES, uh, to the
edge of salVAtion, uh. And then we need to, uh, buh-lindly walk
off the edge uh." The lights reflecting from the mirrored suit
as he strutted his stuff guaranteed that most of the group would
blindly walk almost anywhere for a time.
     "And NOW, uh, as a test of our renewed salvation, my beloved
associates, uh, shall pass among you and, uh, ask that you show
them, uh, just how far off the edge YOU are willing to WALK, uh."
Jimmie Ray gestured toward the rear of the stage. A recorded
drumroll echoed from the speakers, then segued into "Devil With a
Blue Dress On."
     She twirled out onto the stage in a sort of modified
Tarantella. Her pirhana-filled stilettos tapped out a machine
gun-like staccato. Her face was adorned with no less than five
pounds of greasepaint. "Behold," shouted Jimmie Ray Rose. "My
blessed lamb."
     "Oh, my God," screamed Del. "It can't be possible." Before
she could continue, a second figure appeared on the opposite side
of the stage. He was decked out in the same type of outfit the
man at the front entrance wore. He carried a long pole attached
to a wicker basket.
     "Oh, no," gasped Dave Bates. "That's Bobby Joe." Dave hid
his face, but it was too late.
     "Howdy, Pard. How's about puttin' a few a' them hard earned
buckaroonies in this here bukket? Me 'n' Ruby figger if'n y'all
don't give sumptn', we'll both show up at YER place at the same
time, an' y'all kin put us'ns up fer a spell." At that, money
began to fly onto the stage from all directions.
     From center stage, Jimmie Ray continued his spiel. "We're
lookin' for a sign of salVAshun, uh, TONIGHT, uh. Give us a
SIGN, uh!"
     From somewhere deep within the hold, rumbling sounds began.
Suddenly, the entire ship was engulfed in swirling, flaming,
screaming fireworks. To anyone flying overhead, the ship
resembled a seagoing meteor. Rockets flew from nearly every
opening. People were diving for cover and screaming.
     "YESSSSS!" shouted Jimmie Ray Rose as he leaped into an
opening in the stage just ahead of a flaming skyrocket.
     "Wow. Whatta show," Slats said, obviously impressed.
"Author, author!"
     "Right here," responded several of the guests at once.
     "In your dreams," said an excited Ruby. "This is a better
show than the Tu-Tu Revue, and I'm the star. You guys'r all
characters and none 'a you got to dance on a stage this cool in
any of YOUR stories."
     The last of the fireworks burned themselves out. The entire
Coral Lounge was filled with smoke. 'C'mon, Ruby. Let's blow
this joint," a voice called out.
     "It IS Sludge," Del said. "So how's come he looks so clean-
cut? And how did he get here?"
     "Simple, Mama," Ruby replied. "Sludge is virtuous, too.
Ain't he a cutey, though?"
     "That's VIRTUAL," the entire group shouted in unison.
     Just then, the skies opened up in an explosion of thunder.
The rain fell like a vertical river. "Looks like we're gonna get
a real flood," Marty said to Jackie and Curt. "Is this part of
the show too? Great finish. Gonna turn this little boat into
Noah's Ark, eh?"
     "Who on Earth would want to do that?" Jackie asked, as they
sailed away into the night.
                               END