Flashes of Speculation

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  • Date: Sunday, January 14, 2007 Time: 9:29 pm Category: Stories Discussion: 2 Comments

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Marty was excited and a little nervous.  This was an important gig for him.  Headlining at the Lots-o-Laffs Club.  The club owner, Jerry Feinstein, came to Marty’s toilet of a dressing room.

“You prepared for this?” Jerry asked, straightening Marty’s coat lapels.

“I think so.  I’ve got some dynamite bits ready, real laugh-getters, some proven stuff.”

Jerry put his arm around Marty’s shoulder and walked him to the stage.  “You know, this is a rough, tough crowd.  Real man-eaters.  Eat you alive if you show fear out there.”

“Okay, thanks, I’ll be ready.”

“Really, you need to kill them before they get the chance.  They can smell blood.  And don’t let them see you sweat, that gets them worked up.”

“Got it.” They were backstage now.  It sounded like a big crowd out front.

Jerry looked out around the curtain and turned back to Marty.  “Full house, I think.  Ready to be thrown to the lions?”

Marty swallowed hard and replied, “Let’s do it.”

Jerry picked up a backstage microphone: “Welcome, everyone, to the Lots-o-Laffs Club and tonight’s headliner in his first appearance here, funnyman extraordinaire, Marrrrrty Merriweather!”

Marty bounced to the stage, grabbed the mic off the stand amid a light scattering of applause. 

It was a packed house.  Full of big cats; lions, tigers, panthers, leopards and cheetahs.  Ever since that freakish evolutionary accident had made them intelligent, enabling them to take over, humans had to become subservient to survive.  The big cats copied most human behavior and liked to attend comedy, music and sporting events.  Most were still put on by humans. 

The whole club hummed with a low, threatening growl as cat eyes narrowed on Marty in the single spotlight.  The next few seconds would be crucial.  Or murder.

Marty Merriweather deadpanned, “I went to the zoo today.  Spotted a leopard.”

There seemed an eternity of silence before some laughter trickled in, which quickly grew into a wave of crowd-pleasing laughter.

Marty continued, “Told a tiger there the stripes were a good look, made him look thin.”

The place erupted into wild, bestial laughter as tigers and cheetahs pounded their paws on the tables and lions slapped each other on their furry backs.

Marty shot a quick look to the wings.  “I’m killing them,” Marty mouthed to Jerry.

Jerry mouthed back, “Better them than you.”

Marty then noticed the residue blood stains in the floorboards from a previous, unpopular comedian.

Rod Drake often wishes he were someone else.  This is not one of those times. Check out Rod’s other stories published in Fictional Musings, Flash Flooding, Flash Forward, MicroHorror, Six Sentences and AcmeShorts.

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