Monster Media 1993 #2/Image.iso/magazine/s_m0693.zip/S&M-07

Text File | 1993-05-30 | 16KB | 264 lines

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 John's Diner░░░░░░░He's Only a Bird in a Gilded Cape...░░░░░░by Del Freeman
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               Cosmo looked up from his studies, found Cecelio Morales
       waiting patiently to be noticed, and indicatd by a slight
       inclination of his head that Cecelio could be seated at the
       small table for two in the corner of John's Diner.  He stuck his
       nose back in the book before Cecelio could get across the room.
               "Hey," Cecelio greeted John, "what's with Cos?"
               "Ah, he found that magic book in the attic the other
       day.  He's decided he can be the next David Copperfield if he
       studies hard enough.  He's got his heart set on making Raoul's
       fondue pot disappear, and Raoul along with it."
               "Somebody ought to tell him he's a bird, John.  I don't
       think he knows that," Cecelio said earnestly, studying Cosmo
       with a worried frown.
               "Yeah?  Well, he's a damned clever bird, by God," answered
       John.  "COS!" he shouted, and Cosmo glanced up from his studies.
       "Come on over here and show Cecelio your shell trick."
               Cosmo, one of the few birds who could, grinned.  He
       jumped down from his perch atop the podium at the front door
       from whence he dispensed tables with all the haughty disdain of
       the top maitre d's of the world, looped the ties of a small felt
       bag around his neck, and sauntered over to Cecelio's table,
       climbing deftly up the chair leg.  He loosened the ties of his
       bag, and dumped three walnut half-shells onto the tabletop.  He
       looked expectantly at John.
               "Awwright, for goodness sake," said John.
               John pulled himself erect, cupped his hands around his
       mouth and fairly shouted: "Come one, come all.  See the greatest
       feats of magic this side of Austria.  Ladeeeeeez and gentleman,"
       pregnant pause, "pre-zen-ting, in an exclusive engagement, the
       one, the only, the GREAT COSMO!"
               Cosmo bowed modestly in Cecelio's direction.  He
       straightened.  He eyed Cecelio.  He waited.
               "Clap, stupid," murmured John in an aside, and an
       astonished Cecelio automatically put his hands together, as
       Cosmo again bowed.
               "He's a bird, John," Cecelio muttered.
               "Yeah?  Well, you tell 'im," John answered.  Cecelio
       looked at Cosmo's beak.  Cosmo's very large and lethal beak.  He
       promptly closed his mouth and John nodded in approval.
               Cosmo pulled a tiny cape from his bag, dramatic black on
       the outside and shiny red satin on the inside.  He poked his
       head through the neck and donned a small tophat secreted in the
       same bag.  He then extracted a pea from the bag and held it
       aloft in first one foot and then the other and bowed again.
       Cecelio, a quick study, clapped once again.  Cosmo inserted the
       pea under one of the half shells and began a rapid rearrangement
       of the shells, using feet and beak to manipulate them into a
       swirl of movement.  Then he stood back, looked at Cecelio, and
       said, "Put'cher money where yer mouth is, sucker."
               Cecelio, refusing to believe he could be outmaneuvered
       by a bird, (which he by-God knew, even if nobody else seemed to,
       that Cosmo by-God was), slapped a five spot onto the table top
       and confidently reached for the middle shell, flipped it over
       and revealed .....  nothing.  Cosmo grinned again and snatched
       up the five spot.
                                     ***

               "What's going on over there?" asked Lucia, who emerged
       from the kitchen several hours later to find a tearful Cecelio
       with his head in his hands staring despondently at three
       neatly-arranged half walnut shells.  Cosmo, chest puffed
       ridiculously out, stood proudly on the tabletop, tophat cocked
       at a rakish angle, buffing his nails with a corner of his cape.
       A mounting pile of greenbacks rested next to Cosmo.  Cecelio
       could be heard to murmur distractedly, "He's just a bird.  Just
       a freakin' bird, man."
               "Cosmo has just taken Cecelio for enough to pay this
       month's mortgage," said John proudly.  "You know, there may be
       something in this...."
                                     ***

               Howard Palmer read the banner.  Blinked.  Read it again.
       He pushed through the doors of John's Diner with a puzzled
       expression on his face, and sought the owners to try and satisfy
       his curiosity.
               "Hi, Howard," John greeted him.  "Come to buy a ticket
       for the show?"
               "John, you can't be serious," Howard answered.  "A magic
       show put on by a bird?  What's he gonna' do - fly?  Are we
       supposed to pay good money to see a bird fly?  Hell, man, birds
       fly.  There's no magic in that.  Sheesh!"
               "Cosmo doesn't fly," said John in an offended manner.
       "Cosmo's wings are clipped.  There's nothing magic about flying,
       anyway.  747's do it all the time.  When, that is, they don't
       fall out of the sky.  Which makes birds a lot smarter than 747s
       if you ask me.  Birds almost never fall out of the sky." John
       nodded in approval of his own logic and stared expectantly at
       Howard.
               "I just don't see it, John.  I mean, who's gonna' come
       to see a bird do magic tricks?  He's a bird, for Chrissakes.
       Has everybody completely lost their mind around here?"
               "He's a bird with a 'tude, Howard.  A bird with a 'tude
       and a talent.  You can pay a few bucks and catch his act here,
       or you can wait for his debut at the London Paladium.  It's all
       the same to me."
               "The London Paladium?  Are you nuts?  Okay, okay, let's
       say just for one mad moment that he can do magic.  And let's
       imagine that somebody is foolish enough to book him into the
       London Paladium.  I repeat, what's he gonna do?"
               "Ah, Howard, therein lies the magic.  Cosmo, the GREAT
       COSMO, (he likes to be called that)," John murmured under his
       breath, glancing at the podium where Cosmo was engrossed in
       signing 8x10 glossies, "will perform the amazing feat of sawing
       a woman in half.  No more of that shell game stuff, no sir.
       Copperfield, watch out.  After Cos saws a woman in half, he's
       going to make Washington, D.C.  disappear.  Yep, that'll solve
       that troublesome problem of the I.R.S. once and for all."
               "Oh, please. "This I've got to see," said Howard
       plunking down his money and taking a ticket.  "And just who is
       foolish enough to be his guinea pig in all this?"
               The doors of John's Diner were flung aside and the
       throbbing strains of Devil With a Blue Dress On reverberated
       around the interior, causing the paintings of John's starving
       artists to vibrate along the walls of the diner.  John and
       Howard turned their eyes to the door, and recoiled, Howard
       shading his with his hand and John quickly donning a pair of
       sunglasses.
               There, in the doorway, poised dramatically, stood Ruby
       Begonia.  But this was a more garish Ruby Begonia than any they
       had seen so far.  She wore the briefest Madonna-like cone bra
       in a particularly bright shade of orange.  She wore a black
       bikini bottom over over mesh hose in chartreuse green and the
       perennial piranha-filled spike heels.  A peacock feather was
       stuck in her mass of curls and her arms were encased in Michael
       Jackson glitter gloves up to the elbow.  The boombox she held in
       her right hand was cranked to full volume.  Cosmo nodded in
       approval.
               Howard started to ask Ruby if she'd lost her mind.  He
       opened his mouth.  Then he thought about how simple life would
       be with no Ruby Begonia in it.  He closed his mouth.  He bought
       another dozen tickets for the starving artists, shook John's
       hand and departed.
                                     ***

               Ravel's "Bolero" played softly in the background as the
       ticket holders filed into the school gymnasium for the big show.
       The Chambers were backstage counting their profits.  Despite
       having to give up the idea of holding the show in the Diner when
       the crowd increased to overwhelming proportions, they figured
       they had enough to pay six months' rent on the Diner AND get the
       lube job for the new Mercedes.
               "Listen," it was a frazzled Ruby Begonia who approached
       them, "ya' really think this bird can pull this off?  I mean,
       it's great publicity for Ruby on the Half Shell and all that,
       and I know a lot of these rich Washingtonians will high-tail it
       to Florida for the winter, but I kinda' like my body in one
       piece, you know?  He's really a bird, after all?"
               She glanced down at her green-checked thighs.  John and
       Lucia did likewise and shuddered.
               "No problem, Ruby," said John.  "Cosmo's had his nose
       stuck in the books 24 hours a day.  He even read the biography
       of Houdini.  All is well."
               Ruby wandered off and John and Lucia smiled happily at
       one another.
               A drum roll announced the opening of the show, and a
       breathless Cosmo rushed to the wings, still poring over his
       magic book.  John gave his customary introduction, and Cos tore
       himself away from the tome and strutted onto the stage.  He
       spotted David Holloway in the audience and rushed down the steps
       into the audience and kicked David in the shins for luck.
               "Man," complained David to all, rubbing his shin,
       "what's with that bird?  This whole thing is ridiculous, anyway.
       He's a bird, man.  You know?  I mean, really ...  he's just a
       bird."
               Back on stage, Cosmo bowed dramatically, sweeping his
       tophat off with one foot when John introduced him.  He signalled
       for silence and a hush fell over the crowd.  He stood motionless
       as a large wooden casket affair was wheeled onto the stage by
       Michael Hahn, who returned to the wings and led Ruby out.  The
       crowd looked agape at the flourescent creature before them.
       Michael helped Ruby into the casket-box and closed the lid.  He
       returned to the wings and dramatically flourished a large saw,
       which he inserted at an angle squarely in the middle of the box.
               Bolero boomed out a resounding crescendo, and Cosmo
       began a long, slow climb atop the box.  He bowed again to the
       audience.  He grasped the handle of the saw with both feet and
       flapped his wings to bring the saw back and forth across the box
       until it sliced completely through.  Michael returned to the
       stage and pushed the two halves of the casket apart, aligning
       Ruby's green checked feet in their piranha-filled heels next to
       her head.
               The audience went wild, clapping, whistling and stomping
       their feet.  Cosmo took several bows.  Ruby grinned.  And then
       she frowned.  Finally, she piped up in a stage whisper that
       she'd enjoyed about as much of this as she cared for.  Cosmo
       continued to take bows.
               "Hey!  HEY BIRD!!" Ruby finally yelled.  "Let's see you
       put me back together, huh?"
               Cosmo looked at Ruby.  He guffawed.  "Piece of cake," he
       predicted confidently, and nodded to Michael, who placed a
       Persian rug over Ruby, box and all.  Cosmo strutted about the
       stage, swirled his cape over his head and back onto his
       shoulders, swept off his tophat with one foot and bowed in the
       direction of the rug.  Michael removed it.  The crowd sat mute.
               Ruby looked in horror at the toes wiggling next to her
       eyebrows.  All was silent until she let out a piercing scream.
               "Aggggghhh!  Stupid bird.  Stupid, stupid bird!  John!
       LUCIA!?  Where the hell are you?  You'd better get back here and
       do something about this stupid bird.  YOU HEAR ME??!!"
               John and Lucia, driving happily homeward with their
       cache of cash in the backseat, were blissfully inhaling the
       smell of their new leather seats, and congratulating themselves
       on a job well done.
               "Just a bird, indeed, hmmmm, my dear?" John commented
       conversationally to Lucia.
               Lucia tipped her rose-crested fedora over one eye and
       smiled a cat-like grin.  "A very early bird, my love," she
       agreed.
                                    ***

               The huckster stood outside the brightly-painted tent.
       His pitch could be heard across the midway.  His checkered vest
       and straw hat called attention to him, as he wildly waved a cane
       over his head and promised sights of scientific wonder.
               "Step right up.  Step right up," he invited as a crowd
       began to form in front of his booth.  "No waiting, folks.  For
       the price of a dollar, just one greenback, you can see the most
       amazing of all sights - two halves of a living, breathing woman.
       That's right, folks - the freak result of a magic trick gone
       awry, she lives and breathes.  She mouths some pretty raunchy
       curses, too, so you might want to rent a pair of these earmuffs
       for only another dollar.
               "You've never seen anything like it because there's
       never been anything like it.  Yes, sir, she's alive and
       hollering.  Watch her wiggle her toes.  Why, folks, she even
       polishes them on occasion.  Of course, we can't guarantee she'll
       do that - she's been pretty contrary since the ummm accident.
       But it's well worth the price of admission, I guarantee you
       that.  The earmuffs are recommended, however."
               Customers lined up and snatched up earmuffs at a frantic
       pace, dropping their $2 into the cash box and pushing and
       shoving their way into the tent from which a steady string of
       epithets rained.
               "Freakin' ditzy bird...  incompetent putz...
       money-grubbing scavenger...  I shouda' wrung your neck and
       dropped you into the pot myself.  Are you reading that dumb
       magic book to try and figure out how to undo this, you piece of
       moult?  ARE YOU??!!"
               The round curses of Ruby Begonia filled the carnival air
       as Cosmo loosened his vest and casually perused the magic book.
       He used one foot to mark his spot at the approach of the
       reporter he recognized from their earlier meeting.
               "Here's your contract, O Great Cosmo," fawned the
       reporter.  "I've brought cash money, just like you asked.  Now,
       tell me...  just how long had you been doing magic when the
       event in question occurred, and would you have any objection to
       an Enquirer cover story titled 'Bird saws woman in half and
       leaves her that way?' We thought a nice subhead might be
       'Community filled with gratitude for magician who rid them of
       nemesis.' What do you think?"
               "I think you'd better come off some more of that cash,"
       said Cosmo.  "And how about a little shell game while we do the
       interview?"
               "But...  you're a bird!?  You want me to gamble with a
       bird?" asked the astonished reporter.
               Cosmo grinned.

                              -end-
                   Copyright (c) 1993 Del Freeman