My Mom always had a saying: ‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth.’
It’s a pretty common saying. My Mom wasn’t very original. You probably already know what it means, but for those of you who don’t, allow me to explain.
It means that you shouldn’t be critical about something that’s been given to you. You should just be grateful for it and move on.
Well I’m here to tell you FUCK THAT!
Absolutely look a gift horse in the mouth! Hire a goddamn dentist to look at that horse and make sure they do a full inspection because for all you know that horse could actually be a large horse-shaped nest of angry wasps made out of rancid shit! Sometimes, you should look a gift horse in the mouth! I mean, Jesus fucking Christ, did we learn nothing from the fall of Troy? They’d be so much better off if they said: “Yeah actually let’s take a look in this horses mouth just to make sure everythings copacetic.”
Please note: the Gift Horse phrase didn’t actually come from the fall of Troy… that’s just a parallel I’m making. Don’t give me any shit over that. I’m really not in the state of mind to argue over something like this.
The point I’m trying to make is that sometimes when good things happen you shouldn’t just take them at face value. Sometimes if something good happens, you should ask why and you should start looking for the rug that’s inevitably going to be pulled out from under you.
Would I have been better off if I’d come into the Cruise Gig with that mindset? Who knows? To be honest I’m not exactly sure if I even would have seen the rug even if I was looking for it. But maybe I would have.
Maybe if I’d asked more questions, been more suspicious or looked that gift horse in the mouth I might’ve been able to avoid stumbling blindly into that fucking nightmare! Maybe then I wouldn’t be waking up in tears most nights, or dreaming about what happened on that fucking boat! Maybe my fragile mental health would still be somewhat intact! Maybe I’d still have even the slightest amount of faith in my fellow man right now!
Maybe I could’ve avoided all of it…
Maybe…
Maybe…
I guess it goes without saying that despite everything I’m still alive, right? That’s sort of implied with these kinds of stories, isn’t it? There’s a foregone conclusion here. You already know how it’s all going to end. ‘Oh how bad could it have been, she’s fine!’
Yeah. Sure.
I’m fine.
I don’t want to blow my fucking brains out or anything I’m just fine! I didn’t OD on pills last month trying to kill myself, I haven’t spent the last six months in and out of the fucking psych ward, I’M FINE!
Sure… sure…
Let me tell you what happened on Comedy Night and then you tell me if I’m fine or not. You tell me if you’re fine afterward, okay?
Okay…
***
I figured that the cruise gig would be good for me. Or, more accurately for my career. Making it in standup ain’t easy kids. You gotta play a lot of dumps before you make it to the big leagues and a lot of us don’t get out of the dumps. It’s hard. But then again I guess anything worth doing is hard, right?
People always told me that I was funny. At the time they’d probably just meant it as a normal friendly compliment, but my broken ass brain decided to internalize it as a standard that I always had to live up to. I couldn’t just be ‘Kimmie’. I had to be ‘Kimmie the Comedian’ and that’s who I spent my life trying to be.
I got into standup since I figured I’d be good at it. People always said I was funny. Comedians could make good money. It seemed like a perfect fit, right? And to be fair I did alright for myself. I had some bad gigs sure, but after four years I’d achieved some modest success. I was more of an opening act than a headliner, and I wasn’t really able to quit my day job but I was doing alright! I figured I just needed to keep pushing and sooner or later I’d make it big.
George Carlin once told Russell Peters that the trick is to get on stage wherever and whenever possible, and I tried to take that advice to heart. Whenever there was a gig for me, I took it. It didn’t matter if the weather was bad or if I needed to drive fifteen hours to get there, I took whatever I could get. No matter how shitty my life got, I kept on working. I kept on pushing because I believed in my heart that one day it was all gonna be worth it! Maybe that’s why I didn’t question the cruise gig… I wanted it to be my big break so badly. I wanted it to be life changing! It’s why I accepted it without a second thought.
To be fair - I don’t think my manager knew what he was getting me into. But I should’ve known something was off. I should’ve… I should’ve known, somehow I should’ve know. I should’ve…
The gig was on a ship called the Grand Dutchess. From what I could tell, the company that owned it mostly did dinner cruises up and down the St. Lawrence River. I was told that they were hosting some sort of charity event that night, and the money was good enough to make the drive up to Montreal more than worth it. I’m talking a solid $10,000 for the show. For reference - I was used to earning about $50 per show.
This seemed big.
Too big.
But like I said before, my Mom had her saying and I wasn’t going to question it! I wanted this to be a sign that I was finally moving up in the world, and I fully intended to go out there and give the best performance of my life! I wrote new material for this, I spent weeks perfecting it, this was going to be my big break! I was going to kick some ass!
Three days before the gig, I drove up to Montreal, checked myself into a cheap hotel and let myself decompress. I spent some time around the city, watching the people and working on some jokes that would appeal to the locals, and on the night of the show I took a cab down to the harbor to board the boat.
This was it.
This was my big break!
I was nervous, I was excited, but I was ready! Good God, I’d never felt more ready for a show in my entire life! I’d been asked to arrive an hour before boarding, so that’s exactly what I did and after confirming my booking, a man led me onto the boat. I’d never really been on a boat like that before, and getting led through it was an interesting experience to say the least.
I remember being led through the auditorium, which was a little smaller than I’d been expecting but made up for it in just how fancy it was. There were only about seven or eight tables present, with a small stage up front. The far wall was dominated by what looked to be an open kitchen, and I could see the cooks busy inside.
“The backstage area is just through this door, Miss Wilde,” My escort had said, stopping to gesture to the door for me. He was so formal, it was kinda unnerving.
“Please do let us know if you need any accommodations prior to the show.”
“Thanks, will do!” I said, before offering a sheepish smile. I kinda felt like I should tip the guy, but he was gone before I could reach into my purse.
I went through the door leading backstage and found myself in a small, slightly cramped dressing room, and I wasn’t alone either. There were five other people already back there, which wasn’t really surprising. I’d been told that there’d be other performers so that was kinda expected.
I just didn’t think that Harry would be there.
The moment I saw him, I felt my heart seize up in my chest a little.
This had to be a sick joke… it had to be.
Why the fuck was Harry there? HOW the fuck was Harry there? There was no way we’d both been hired here, right?
He was busy chatting up one of the other girls when I walked in, a sort of heavyset woman in her thirties with short curly dark hair and coke bottle glasses, although the moment I stepped in he turned to face me and his lips split into a cheerful, thousand watt grin.
“Kimmie!” He said, throwing his arms open as he walked over to me, “Oh my God, it’s been years! How’ve you been doing!”
My voice was caught in my throat.
He just sounded so… so casual, when he spoke to me. Like nothing was wrong, like we were old friends, like he didn’t fucking roofie me!
“You look so good!” He said, taking my hands before I pulled away from him. “Put on a few pounds but you’re just rounding out them curves, eh?”
“You’re here too…” I said quietly.
“Yeah, finally hitting the big times!” He said, “Looks like you are too! In more ways than one, right?”
He laughed at his own joke before putting his hands on my hips and jigging them. I pulled away from him violently. My heart was racing at a thousand miles per minute as I stared at him, still struggling to find the words to say.
“Oh I’m so happy for you, Kimmie! I really am! Oh, let me introduce you to some of the others! This here is Janine!”
He tried to take me by the hand to escort me to the woman he’d been talking to before, but I pulled out of his grasp. I saw his smile falter a bit, but he didn’t say anything. He just let me follow him over to her.
“Janine, this is Kimmie! She’s really great!”
“Nice to meet you!” Janine said, offering me a hand to shake. I took it, she seemed genuine enough.
“Likewise,” I said quietly, “Is this your first show like this?”
“Yup, never done anything this big before,” She admitted. “So are you and Harry friends or…”
“We go way back!” He cut in, “Kimmie and I used to play the same clubs back in the good old days!”
“We did… just don’t let him buy you a drink,” I replied coldly. Harry ignored me. I don’t think Janine picked up on what I was implying either.
“This one gets a little carried away when she parties,” He said. “I’d say you gotta reel that in tonight, but what the hell? This is the fucking big leagues! We should be having drinks all around! Oh - maybe I should find that little waiter guy! What do you think?”
“I’ll pass,” I said.
“You sure? Your loss then!”
With that Harry was gone again, and I felt some of the tension leave the room.
“Must be nice running into someone you know here at least!” Janine said.
“Not really, no. Harry and I aren’t really on speaking terms,” I replied. “Like I said, watch your drink around him.”
This time she seemed to pick up on what I was saying and grimaced uneasily. I don’t think she knew what to say in response to the silent atom bomb of shit I’d just dumped on her, but she knew how to feel about it and really that was all I cared about.
A few feet away, one of the other performers, a young looking Korean guy was tuning a guitar. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen or twenty.
“He did give me kinda a shady vibe,” He said, “He’s been on everyone like a used car salesman ever since he walked in.”
“Yeah, he does that,” I replied.
“Fun… well. There’s assholes everywhere you go,” He said. “I’m Chance! Chance Park!”
“Kimmie Wilde,” I replied. “Nice guitar.”
“Thanks, playing sorta gives me something to focus on. Helps with my stage fright,” He said smiling a little awkwardly.
“Yeah… I can get behind that,” I said. “First year or so after I started, I’d have full blown panic attacks before going onstage. Eventually I just learned to deal with them but for a while… it was brutal.”
“I hear you,” Said another voice. I looked over to see a woman sitting by one of the mirrors, doing her makeup. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties and had long auburn hair.
“I actually used to wear sunglasses back when I started. At least until I got more comfortable on the stage. I just did it to hide the fact that my eyes were closed.”
“Really?” I asked, “So did you just work it into your act, or…?”
“Yeah, back then I had a bit of a different vibe going on. I did voices, characters. Y’know. Stuff like that,” She said. “I’m Katrina, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Katrina.”
I offered her a hand to shake and she took it.
“Kinda surprised there’s no headliner,” Chance said. “I figured I was being brought in as more of an opening act, y’know? Seems like we’re all pretty small time though.”
“Could be they’re just not here yet,” Katrina pointed out. “We’ve still got one empty seat, about 45 minutes before boarding and another two hours until showtime, so who knows.”
“Fair enough,” Chance said with a shrug, before going back to his guitar.
About a moment later, the door opened again and another man came in. He was tall and blond with a nice blue suit, although he didn’t quite look like headliner material.
“Hello!” He said, a little shyly and was greeted with a rousing chorus of greetings from everyone else.
“Welcome to the party,” Katrina said.
“Thanks! Am I running late?”
“Nope, just on time,” She replied. “Looks like the gangs all here.”
The new guy just smiled nervously.
“Oh, good to know! Sorry, first time here!”
“Yeah, same for us,” I said. “I’m Kimmie, you are?”
“Johnny,” He replied, accepting my offer for a handshake. He had a firm but somewhat timid grasp. “Nice to meet you!”
The others in the room made their introductions and for the next hour or so, we just sorta mingled. Honestly, I don’t remember half of what was said backstage and really most of it probably wasn’t that interesting. We went over some material, did a few touch ups to make sure we looked good, and most importantly stayed hydrated. Harry came back with champagne at some point, but nobody really seemed interested in drinking except for him.
Same old Harry… drunk as usual.
I made a point to avoid talking to him, although he never really seemed to get the hint. I’m not sure if he was completely oblivious or just an unrepentant asshole, but I really didn’t care to find out which. All I needed to do was not murder him for one night, and all would be well. I’d move on, forget all about him and maybe mention to my manager to make sure that he and I were never in the same building ever again.
Some people would call that an overreaction. Some might call it an underreaction. I figured it was the perfect reaction.
Life isn’t fair. Sometimes bad people just get away with shit and them’s the brakes. Sooner or later you learn to live with it, unfortunately.
***
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Aristocracy, welcome to your annual Dinner and a Show, it’s COMEDY NIIIIGHT!”
The voice of the MC echoed through the small auditorium, and from what I could see we had a full house wasn’t all that impressive considering that there were only eight tables crammed in like sardines. The ship had cast off about 45 minutes ago, and the crewmember from before had lined us all up, ready for our introductions.
This was the big moment. This was going to be my big break! I was a little nervous, but more than that I was excited!
“What a show we have lined up for you folks tonight! Six of the freshest faces we could find are here for you tonight, playing a game of Elimination!”
Elimination?
That word caught my attention. I hadn’t heard anything about this being some kind of contest and judging by the confused looks on the others faces, this was the first they were hearing of it too. Still, so long as I got paid… I wasn’t going to complain and the contract I’d signed had said nothing about the payment being a prize. That was cash I was already owed. I’d read that shit in full.
“Regulars, you know the rules but for our first timers let me give you a rundown! After every set, one unlucky comic gets ELIMINATED and YOU DECIDE WHO! Send in your votes during the set, and the most popular… or should I say unpopular comic is DONE FOR!”
Simple enough, I guessed. All I needed to do was be funny then, right? The crowd applauded and cheered for the unseen MC, who seemed to soak it all in for a few moments before moving on.
“NOW let’s meet the meat Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome KATRINA CARANO!”
Katrina was up first, smiling as she went up on stage. She was greeted with a roar of applause.
“CHANCE PARK!”
Chance was up next, guitar in hand as he went up on stage.
“JOHNNY SAWYER!”
Next came Johnny, with a nervous smile and a slightly awkward wave.
“KIMMIE WILDE!”
That was me. I took a deep breath and bounded up on stage, waving with both hands and grinning from ear to ear. I was greeted with cheers and applause and… oh it was perfect.
It was perfect.
“JANINE CARUSO!”
Janine took her place beside me, smiling timidly as she waved to the crowd. Their cheers and applause seemed to put her more at east though.
“AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, HARRY KING!”
More cheers as Harry bounced up on stage, bowing dramatically and blowing kisses at the audience. He seemed to sway a little, which wasn’t surprising. He’d put away almost an entire bottle of champagne since he’d gotten here. Part of me was amazed he was even standing at all.
“Take a look at that lineup, folks! What a show we have for you tonight! Now, contestants, let’s get this show on the road and see what Katrina Carano has in store for us! Katrina, YOU’RE UP!”
On cue, the five of us who weren’t Katrina exited the stage, leaving only her behind. She was still smiling as she took the nearby microphone. She seemed so at ease, almost as if she didn’t have a single care in the world. Honestly, I kinda envied her for that.
I watched her from the wings, with Johnny standing quietly beside me.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Katrina began, “It’s great to be here with you tonight and it’s fantastic that you guys were able to take time out of your busy schedules to come out here. Lord knows, half of you probably need a date night and the other half, need a date.”
Her first joke got a few chuckles, but nothing serious.
“Yeah… y’know I remember when I had date nights with my husband. One wonderful night away from the kids, where you can kinda go out and be romantic again and actually enjoy your life without having to listen to the back and forth: ‘Mom, Natasha hit me! No Mooom, Deanna pulled my hair! Mooom! Moooom! Mooom!’ And you’re just sitting there like: ‘Guys we’re not even out of the driveway yet.’ Like, I literally just got in the car. I looked away for 2.5 nanoseconds and suddenly all hell’s broken loose. God forbid I leave you two alone for an entire second because I’ll come back and find the entire car on fire. I don’t need that! It’s a lease. Mama needs her deposit back.”
That one got a few more laughs.
“I do love my kids, I do…” Katrina said. “But it’s like living with a couple of psychopaths. And you’d think it would get better at some point. No. It just gets worse. They’re both four now. I’ve got two twin girls. And I genuinely do not know how their brains work. About a year ago, I was working in the office, minding my own business, letting the husband watch the kids and suddenly I hear them screaming bloody murder. And I mean screaming. You would have thought they were being fucking tortured. So naturally I come running, and what do I find? My two… darling little bundles of joy, standing over a full bathtub with a bag of goldfish crackers… you know the type. Those little cheese crackers that look like fish. And they’re screaming because they decided to put the crackers in the bathtub, so they could see the fish swimming around. I walk in, I take a look at the film of soggy crackers floating in my bathtub and my two kids turn to look at me and they say: ‘MOMMY WE MURDERED THEM!’ No… no sweetie… no. What you just murdered is the plumbing, because now I’ve got soggy fucking bread in my bathtub. Just what I needed…”
Her set went on for another fifteen minutes or so and for the most part, it was alright. Katrina had a sort of dry, ‘been there done that’ kind of delivery that worked for her, and the voices she did later on were pretty entertaining too. She didn’t get a lot of laughs, but I enjoyed her set.
Chance was up next, and Johnny and I watched as he came back out with his guitar. The crowd applauded and once again he gave a friendly little wave.
“Hey… hello! Thank you! It’s really good to be out here tonight! So… yeah, my name’s Chance and I’m a musical comedian, which in this case means failed musician.”
The crowd chuckled.
“No, but like I’ve got a love of music and a love of comedy and I’m gay as hell, so y’know why not see what happens when I do all that at once? Music is actually a big part of gay culture. I mean, look at how many musicians are actual gay icons? Madonna, Lady Gaga, Judy Garland, Cher, the Village People. And some of them are even actually gay! No but like, there’s a million gay icons out there and a million gay anthems. There’s songs out there that people don’t even know are gay anthems. I mean, who was out her bopping to the YMCA as a kid, right? I remember them playing that at grade school dances and the whole time I was thinking: ‘Yeah I wanna go hang out at the YMCA!’. Actually that hasn’t changed… I still wanna go to the YMCA, only because now I know what the song’s actually about. Yeah I’ve had people fight me on this, but I can promise you that the YMCA is all about getting your ass pounded in the locker room. I guarantee it. I mean it’s not even subtle! It’s not! But, people don’t see it, so I’ve gone out of my way to make a translated version of the YMCA for you and it goes a little something like this.”
Chance started strumming on his guitar, and I noticed Johnny raising an eyebrow beside me.
“He’s actually going to do the YMCA?” He said quietly, and I just shrugged. Whatever he was playing sounded a lot like the YMCA, but I was curious where he was going with this.
“Young man there’s no need to feel down
I said young man pick yourself off the ground
I said young man ‘cause your in a new town
There’s no need to be unhappy.
Young man there’s a place you can go
I said young man when you’re short on your dough
You can stay there and I’m sure you will find
Many ways to have a good time.
Cuz we’re all gay at the Y.M.C.A.
Yeah we’re all gay at the Y.M.C.A.
It’s a backdoor buffet, Grindr accounts galore.
You can hang out with the gaylords!
Young man, we have condoms for free.
I said, young man, don’t you catch a disease.
I said, young man, you can ride bare with me.
Cuz I swear. I’m. Clean and tested.
You can be gay at the Y.M.C.A.
You’re free to stay at the Y.M.C.A.
The staff knows what we do!
And they’re into it too!
Ask for Gary he’s 9.2!
We’re getting laid at the Y.M.C.A.
You’re staying late at the Y.M.C.A.
You can party for free!
Gloryholes on floor 3!
In the showers we get steamy!
Young man take a pounding from me
I said young man you can still beat your meat
I said young man, and when you walk down the street
You will whistle from your asshole.
Y.M.C.A.
Just blow a gay at the Y.M.C.A.
The staff knows what we do!
And they’re into it too!
Ask for Gary he’s 9.2!
Y.M.C.A!
The crowd was going wild, laughing and clapping and Chance was grinning from ear to ear, soaking up the praise and after a moment, he leaned in toward the microphone again.
“I played that for this one friend of mine who works at the YMCA, and he just said: I’m not taking this shit from a twink. Bend over.”
The crowd laughed again and Chance finally stood up and his smile was positively glowing.
“Thank you! See you in round 2!” He said, before leaving the stage. I looked over at Johnny who laughed quietly.
“Hell of an act to follow,” He said.
“Yeah… but hey, go knock ‘em dead,” I replied.
“Chance Park, ladies and gentlemen! Give him a round of applause and while you’re at it, please welcome our next comic the very, very funny JOHNNY SAWYER!”
Johnny took a deep breath and as the crowd applauded, he went up on stage and I leaned back against the wall to watch him.
“What’s up everybody?” He asked playfully, “Goddamn that’s gonna be a tough act to follow. I mean, I could sing for you. But that wouldn’t be funny that’d just be sad. Oh man… it is a privilege to be here tonight, though. I know the last two guys said that and the next three are probably gonna say it, but it’s true. It’s a privilege. This is actually my second time in Montreal, and this is my second cruise on the St. Lawrence. Last time, I was out here with my ex and let me just say that I’m having a hell of a lot more fun this time around. We booked this cruise, right, and the ad said: ‘Dinner and a circus show.’ I thought: ‘Alright! A romantic dinner, a neat show! Sounds like a good time!’ And that was my first mistake…”
As Johnny went on with his act, I quietly psyched myself up for my act, which was coming up next. I went over what I was going to open with, how I was going to deliver it. I didn’t pay that much attention to Johnny’s routine, only catching a few snippets of laughter as I zoned in and back out.
“…now by that point, we’ve been on this cruise for about 2 hours. The ad promised us a four hour cruise. I’d kinda just assumed that 4 hours meant we’d go for two hours and then turn around and sail back for two hours. Makes sense, right? Not to the guys running this boat it didn’t! No. We turn around 45 minutes into the cruise and go right back, then stop in the industrial part of Montreal.
The ship just drops anchor and we’re sitting there on the top deck that we got banished to, still waiting on our drinks and now we get to smell whatever the hell they’re burning out in the industrial side of Montreal. I swear to God, it was like standing right next to a tire fire. My girlfriend just started gagging. She probably would have puked, but as we’ve already established, the overpriced menu was only for the lower deck passengers, so there was no food! Now by this point, I started wondering when the show part of this dinner and a show cruise was supposed to begin, since they’d never actually announced it. I mean, I was determined to just get something out of this whole situation.
So I tell my girlfriend that I’m gonna go and ask about it, and just as I dare to trespass toward the front of the ship, that’s when I see it. A literal fucking rave. Now, an astute listener may have noticed that a rave was never part of the advertisement. Well, the rave had some acrobats. Acrobats. I use that term loosely. What they really were, was just somewhat modest, significantly more flexible strippers. That was the circus show. It wasn’t actually a show! It was a rave! Circus show… Jesus… yeah it was a circus alright.
So I go back and I tell my girlfriend that this whole time, we’ve actually been on a stripper rave cruise… which in hindsight does explain all of the techno, and I just saw the soul leave her eyes. The woman that I loved died in that moment and something else was born. She just started laughing with this dead eyed, broken expression on her face! It was like watching that scene in Batman where Jack Nicholson becomes the Joker.
Something died inside of her. And at this point, I shit you not, two hours after we first placed our order, that little French waiter we had finally comes up with our order and a bill for like thirty bucks. Thirty bucks for two drinks. Unbelievable. But at this point I’m just done, so I hand this guy the cash to pay. He counts it out, then he looks me dead in the eye and says: ‘Oh monsieur, just so you know ze service iz not included.’
And he’s just standing there, waiting on me to tip him.
And that was when I saw it. My girlfriend had reached her breaking point. She snapped and I can see it in her eyes, that little French guy is going overboard. There is no stopping this. I knew it and he knew it. I saw his life flash before his eyes… anyways that’s why she’s my ex girlfriend, but I’m hoping we can get back together once she gets out of prison!”
The crowd laughed and Johnny chuckled along with them.
“The service is not included…” He repeated, shaking his head. “No it sure as hell wasn’t! See you next round, everybody!”
The crowd applauded as Johnny left the stage and I took a deep breath, knowing that it was my turn now.
“JOHNNY SAWYER! What a class act, folks! But don’t simmer down just yet, keep those drinks flowing and get ready for our next guest KIMMIE WILDE!”
The crowd applauded, and I took the stage, mustering every ounce of energy I had as I prepared to give the performance of a lifetime.
“Hello, hello, hello! Thank you! It’s so good to be out here in Montreal! I’ve never actually been before but I am loving it! Such a beautiful city and you guys have got such a vibrant nightlife! I actually arrived a few days ago and thought I’d check out some of the clubs, since I’m a bit of a dance machine, and what’s a trip out to Montreal without a little party? I mean… you guys know what I’m talking about!”
A few people in the audience seemed to agree, but mostly they were just quiet.
“Yeah, I love the club scene. But the guys there… oh God… guys in clubs seem to think that you’re just out there to get laid and club guys have to be some of the weirdest fucking people I’ve ever met. They’ll come up to you while you’re at the bar, put their arm around you and be like: ‘Hey baby. What that ass do?’ Buddy… if you don’t know what an ass does, I don’t know if I can help you. Like you gotta figure this one out on your own, I’m sorry!”
That got a few laughs. Good, at least I wasn’t bombing!
“And club guys always get so defensive when you reject them. Like, the moment you say no, it’s a personal attack on their self esteem. ‘What I’m not good enough for you bitch? Bitch? What you think you’re gonna find something better! You’re so ugly! I was being nice by even talking to you! That was pity, bitch!’ Like, relax. You’re not hot shit. All you’ve got to offer is about 3 minutes of thrusting tops. That’s three minutes I’m not getting back. I’m not gonna waste my time on that, especially if I’m not even gonna cum!”
That got another laugh out of the crowd.
“I’m just morbidly fascinated with these people! I mean I’m almost jealous, because it takes confidence to go out into the world and be that much of an asshole! I swear that if I had the confidence of a mediocre guy at a club, I’d probably be ruling the world right now! But the confidence of club guys absolutely pales in comparison to the confidence of guys online!”
Some of the women in the audience chuckled, knowing what was coming.
“You ladies get it!” I said, “If you’re a woman online, I can guarantee you’ve seen things. Hell, just looking at you guys in the crowd I can see that thousand yard stare in your eyes. Guys don’t have to deal with that shit, but women? We wake up and we’ve got like 20 dick pics in our DM’s. I could probably make a collage out of all the dick pics I’ve gotten. Just… line them all up, throw a gradient on them and bam, I’ve just gone and made a lovely portrait of your Mom. You’re welcome.”
I actually caught myself laughing a little at that one. It wasn’t funny but hey, it was nonpolitical so there was that.
“Y’know I’ve seen some people online say that whenever someone sends you a dick pick, what you should do is send them an even bigger dick pic back. Personally, I don’t think that’s gonna work. Because the guys on the internet are fucking depraved! They don’t give a shit! It’s kinda beautiful in a weird, messed up way! They don’t care who you are, what you identify as, if you’re trans, cis, nonbinary, whatever. They’re still gonna slide into your DM’s like: ‘Hey baby… can I see your feet?’ It’s wild!”
I smoothed down my hair. The crowd was laughing. This was going great, and more importantly I felt great!
The rest of the set flowed so easily. My fifteen minutes was gone in an instant, but I was more than ready for round 2!
When I left that stage, I felt energized and I even gave a friendly wave to Janine as she went on after me before I went backstage. I listened in on her routine a little bit as I went to get myself a bottle of water.
“Damn, you really had them going out there!” A voice said, and I looked over to see Johnny coming up beside me.
“Thanks! I was so nervous!”
“Well you could’ve fooled me! That was awesome!”
“Thanks, your set was pretty good too!”
“Thanks.”
He took a sip of his water before letting out a breath. “Hell of a crowd out there, they really get into it, don’t they?”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” I said with a shrug. “I love a good crowd. Makes it easier, y’know?”
“Hear, hear,” He said. “You gonna watch the rest of the show?”
“I wouldn’t mind watching Janine, but I’ll skip Harry. Trust me, he’s not worth the time.”
“Sounds like you two have a history,” Johnny noted.
“Yeah, that’s one word for it. He does the same act just about every time. Push the envelope with some edgy jokes he stole from other people. Pretty sure he’s got some of mine in there somewhere.”
“Jeez…” Johnny said, grimacing.
“Yeah, he’s a real piece of shit.” I replied before taking a sip of my water. “Gotta love him.”
“Well now I’m curious. I’m gonna watch,” He said.
“You enjoy it. I’m just gonna catch my breath!”
He headed toward the stage again and I just relaxed with my water, letting my energy settle as I readied myself for round 2. Shitty history aside - I refused to let Harry ruin this night for me. I was doing great and I was going to make the most of this!
***
“Alright ladies and gentlemen! You’ve seen the acts, now it’s time to decide who stays and who goes!” The MC said. Some kind of overture that sounded a little like a discount Jeopardy theme played as soon as he started speaking.
We’d all been ushered back out on stage, and stood smiling into the lights as the audience cast their votes. The dark figures at the tables whispered amongst each other before quietly hitting a button on each of their tables.
The overture played for a few moments as the decision was made, and I stood smiling and patient. I still felt good about this gig! I didn’t think it was going to be me they voted out. But who could really say, right?
“And that’s our time! Looks like our audience has made their choice… five of you passed, but one of you didn’t! And the unlucky loser iiissssssssssssssssssss…”
He milked that sentence, drawing out the anticipation for as long as he could.
“KATRINA CARANO! I’m so sorry but our audience has chosen you!”
Beside me, I noticed Kartina’s smile fade a little bit, although she didn’t let it fade completely. She was obviously disappointed, but in the end she just shrugged it off.
“You win some, you lose some,” She said.
“Everyone else, get ready for round two, and to our very fine kitchen staff - fire up the grill because dinner is here!”
There was a sudden pop, like a bottle of champagne being uncorked. The audience cheered, although I couldn’t immediately tell why.
Not until I heard Chance start screaming.
I looked over to see Katrina standing beside us, eyes wide and a look of utter confusion on her face. Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Blood dribbled past her lips as she looked down at the harpoon that was now jutting out of her chest. Her legs gave out beneath her as she hit the ground with a heavy thud, the life quickly fading from her eyes.
All of us pulled away from the body, and I couldn’t tear my eyes off of it. My heart was racing as I tried to process what I’d just seen.
Someone had just shot Katrina with a harpoon!
Someone had just shot Katrina with a fucking harpoon!
Her body twitched in death, and I saw two men in black kitchen uniforms climb onto the stage to drag Katrina away. They brought her over to that open kitchen.
Oh God…
No… no they weren’t going to…
They weren’t actually going to…
“Ladies and gentlemen, we now begin our first 30 minute intermission, after which Round 2 will begin and dinner will be served! Smoke ‘em if you got em!”
The MC laughed as we watched them hoist Katrina’s body onto a metal slab. The two men began to hastily undress her, cutting away her clothes with scissors before spraying her body down with a hose.
Beside me, Chance had a hand pressed to his mouth in disgust. Johnny could only stare in slack jawed horror, Janine was crying and looked as if she desperately wanted to look away… and even Harry had a look of utter disbelief on his face, as if he hadn’t quite accepted the reality of the situation that we were now in.
We watched as they washed Katrina’s body, before reaching for their knives.
We watched as they took her apart.
We watched.
And as we watched… we began to realize that whatever this was… it wasn’t just a comedy show.