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by Art Arduous
   
 
CHAPTER INDEX: CLICK HERE
   
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

'F' IS FOR FAKE

 

            Muk looked at his watch. 'Fortunate' was written across its face and Muk was reminded that he was. He was where he should be, with Cosima at the far end of the dance floor away from the stage. All is well. People were mingling and shining.

 

            At the same time, in the DJ booth, Pedro checked his watch. He was ready and cued.

On the other side of the compound at Bobbys, blonde Blu was in a bathroom, wriggling into a skirt over her cocktail dress. The skirt was fringed and feathered. Suddenly she looked like a costumed magician's assistant. Up until this moment, Blu had been having fun, enjoying the party, meeting everyone she walked into and even falling in love several times. She checked her watch. She had plenty of time to tart up the makeup.

 

            Pedro strobed the dance floor lights. He flipped a switch and the music beat became a frenzy with a Warner Brothers fanfare. The dance floor stopped cold.

A spotlight whipped to center stage. Attentions were turned. The music thundered up. Ali BeeDee burst forth from behind the curtain.

            Cosima clenched Muk's arm. She had planned every detail of the party but she had not planned this. LuckyFortuna.com

 

            The mix kicked into Ali's big hit, "Shame it on the Blame." The crowd, shocked to see her and sensing the fun, applauded the old song that they knew so well. Ali sang into her headset mic. She was vamped up like a 1940's Rita Hayworth. She wore a long sleek dress with a flouncy scarf that covered her head, wrapped around her neck and cascaded to the floor. Her eyes were made Egyptian, in honor of her dear departed pal Amy.

            Cosima was livid. She and her party had been hijacked. This should not be happening.

 

            Ali BeeDee was an experienced performer. She could sing. She was working the stage and the crowd was loving it. The media was cheerleading. 'Shame it on the Blame' is an infectious pop standard. Everyone sang along. A male dancer in a gangster pin stripe suit and fedora now shadowed Ali.

 

            Muk could feel that Cosima was intensely agitated and unsure of what to do about it. Finally, she spoke, "Muk. Muk, how can we stop this?"

He shrugged, "This train has left the station." Cosima knew he was right but she didn't like it a bit. Her frustration was mounting.

 

Dancing, Ali uses the whole stage. She starts to remove the long scarf, slowly like a strip tease. "Shame it on the Blame" kicks into a high point and the head scarf is dramatically removed, revealing two emerald earrings dangling from her earlobes. An emerald necklace around her uncovered neck is revealed. Half the crowd gasps, the other cheers. Everyone knows the jewelry is still missing. This is breaking news, a happening as it happens and everyone goes wild.

 

Cosima shouts to Muk, "Call the police!" She starts looking around, frantically, for the Beverly Hills PD detective. She hops to see above the crowd. Cosima shoves through, edging toward the side of the stage with the steps. Muk stays right behind her. Cosima is a Furie.

 

"Shame it on the Blame" kicks into the start of its big finale. Ali DeeBee is doing her business. She is making Katy, Pink, Beyonce, Adele and Britt look very dull. Emperor Muk McKaylee

 

Muk moves alongside Cosima, helping her make a way. She climbs the stairs to the side of the stage. Her face is set, fierce and very commanding. She holds her arm and an open palm out. The crowd is starting to notice. The cameras are watching and remembering. Flicking her hand once, Cosima, with the dignity of a Valkyrie, silently shouts, "Give me my fuckin' shit, bitch!"

 

Ali BeeDee dances over and removes an earring that she places into Cosima's empty hand. Ali dances away, playing it. This irritates Cosima. Ali again shimmies back to the jeweler. She removes the other earring and places it Cosimas hand. With a flick of her wrist, Cosima gestures, "More!"

 

Ali dances to the center of the stage, singing the final chorus. She undoes the necklace and starts twirling it above her head. She jumps off the stage, clearing running from Cosima. Like Moses and the Red Sea, the crowd parts and Ali strolls easily, dancing, toward the big buffet table. The spotlight follows her.  Everyone starts to whoop, a chant in synch with her swinging hips. All of the bright lights are catching the little diamonds of the necklace. It looks as if Ali has a spinning silver halo above her head.

 

Cosima shoved through the crowd. She saw the police detective and shouted his name. He was already on it and moving in the same direction. Cosima felt justified. She pressed on harder, as everyone was converging toward that damn Ali BeeDee.

 

The main buffet table was a beautiful set-up. Everything was pretty. At one end of the table was a large glass punchbowl, almost a perfect globe forty-eight inches wide. Ali BeeDee waltzed up and, with a little show biz, dropped the necklace into the punchbowl. The emerald chain plunged through a floating layer of fresh cut fruit and sank into the amber punch. It came to rest at the bottom of the clear bowl. Then Ali put a hand on her hip, like she was spoiling for a fight. The crowd was whooping. Someone yelled, "Catfight!" Emperor muk McKaylee

 

The police detective shoved to the front. He held back, waiting to see what would happen next. So was everyone else at the party. Ali stood alone in a circle. Cosima punched through. Her dress was a little smashed and her hair had a few stray licks floating about. She exchanged a look with the policeman.

 

Cosima pointed her finger at Ali and started to shout, but she caught herself. She noticed that her finger was green. She held one earring in her fist, which she quickly opened. Her whole hand was stained green with yellow and blue streaks. And so was her other hand! With her thumb, she could feel the earring was not hard but soft, like a caramel. She screamed quickly, shoving past Ali to the punchbowl that glowed like a golden crystal ball.

 

Cosima circled the bowl. The emerald necklace, shipwrecked at the bottom, looked like it was out of focus. A haze, a green mist was surrounding it. The emerald and diamond necklace was losing its color and dissolving like Alka-Seltzer. Cosima shrieked and plunged her hand into the punchbowl, but her arm wasn't long enough to reach the bottom. Her frantic attempts were getting messy and embarrassing. The police detective joined her but kept a distance. Cosima yelled, "Arrest her! Arrest her!"

   
 

 

Look for the next exciting chapter of Emperor Muk!

   
 

 

CHAPTER INDEX: CLICK HERE

 

Catch Muk on or

 

   
 

 

 

COMING SOON:


For the Love of Muk

 
Back in the Muk Again

 
Muk Fast Five

 

iMuk

 
 
All Muk'd Up

 

 

 

 

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 

 

 

   
 

 

 

© Gordy Grundy, All Rights Reserved

www.Gordy Grundy.com

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