Magic Mansion by Jordan Price (best fiction books to read .txt) 📕

“It’s not me,” Charity said in a quavery voice, a completely different voice from Oscar’s, and an actual tear rolled down her cheek.

“THIS - IS - BULLSHIT!” Oscar’s head popped up and down like he was on a pogo stick.

“Okay,” Iain told Monty, “That’s good. Go on, now. And talk over her if you need to—your mike will pick it up—but switch the order of announcing the vote-offs from the way we had it written…for obvious reasons.”

“BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULL…SHIT!”

Monty nodded succinctly while Charity carried on via Oscar, and when she paused for a breath, he said, “The first player voted out of the mansion by our studio audience is…Chip Challenge.”

Everyone went quiet. Even Oscar.

Chip nodded, gave a sad smile, and dipped his head in a brief bow. “Thank you—thank you very much.” He swaggered forward from the rest of the lowest-scoring group, and turned to wave goodbye with one fringe-trimmed, rhinestone-studded arm—to the Red Team, to the Gold Team, to Monty, and finally, to the cameras.

“Oh, right,” Oscar’s shrill voice cried out as Elvis left the building. “Vote off the only member of the whole cast who’s actually entertaining!”

Faye covered her face with her hands and said, “This is not happening.”

“One more player is going home tonight,” Monty said, “and that magician is…Charity Young.”

It felt as if everyone—the cast, the crew, the room itself—held their breath. The moment hovered there, filled with mortifying possibility, while Charity gaped at Monty, stunned.

And then her face twisted, and the tears started flowing in earnest.

Sue hadn’t been kidding when she said cameras swarmed a weeper like flies on…poop, or whatever she’d called it.

The weird part was, Charity was definitely crying. Hard. Huge, wracking sobs, with tears and even snot running down her face. But through it all Oscar, somehow, was still screaming.

“Big surprise. Vote Charity off first to keep her from winning.”

Iain said, “Just let her keep going ’til she wears herself out.”

“The first challenge was a joke!” Oscar hollered. “Charity had all the talent! You never gave her a chance to perform! You never gave her a fucking chance!”

Faye backed away, returning to her team without Iain’s permission, and hid behind Ricardo. She was shaking. Ken Barron was left alone in the middle of the room with Charity and her meltdown, and he watched in rapt horror as if her tirade had frozen him to the spot.

“This mansion is a joke! Set dressers try to make it look fancy, but it’s all a sham. Half the rooms are falling apart, there are mice in the walls, and the first floor smells like a petting zoo!” Charity swung around and looked at the Gold Team, and Ricardo’s bemused shock turned to dread, as he wondered if he’d somehow managed to incur Oscar’s wrath, and he was about to be outed in front of the cameras. “You probably won’t win,” the puppet said—not to any specific teammate, but to the team in general. “Not without Charity. But if one of you does…hire yourself a good lawyer. This whole place is a joke, and they’ll probably try to cheat you out of the prize money.”

Charity, meanwhile, wept. She stumbled toward the exit, then paused in front of the Red Team, and let Oscar shrill, “Your captain’s an asshole. They’ll probably rig it so that he gets crowned the Grandmaster Magician.”

And with that, they strode out the door, Charity sobbing, and Oscar with his head held high.

Chapter 14

METAMORPHOSIS CHALLENGE

Cast, crew…everyone stared at the empty doorway in shock once Charity Young departed. Iain was the first one to speak—into his phone. “Yeah, we need security up here to escort the rejected players off the property. We’ve got a sore loser.”

Ricardo shuddered.

“Well,” Muriel said placidly, “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Maybe it’s an act,” Bev suggested.

“No,” Faye said. She was so spooked, she looked close to tears herself. “No one’s that good. That was a real freakout. Maybe a psychotic break.”

“We have been under a lot of stress,” Bev said.

Sue cocked her head, considered the tape mark on the floor, and said, “But you’ve got to admit. She was a really good ventriloquist.”

“Okay, everyone,” Iain called out, “deep breath. Think of it as trial by fire. You’re going to see some weird things over the course of the game. That’s good. In fact, that’s preferable: it’s engaging TV. No one’s gonna tune in to see you guys sipping tea and playing tiddlywinks. Got it?”

Tea and tiddlywinks—what the hell did that mean? Ricardo wondered if it was a veiled homophobic remark…or if Iain was just a dismissive prick who thought insufferable-hipster-producer was a more respectable career than magician. Probably both.

Iain turned to some grips and said, “Wheel in the boxes.” The burly assistants went behind Monty, into the room blocked off by the fabric screen, and wheeled out a pair of trunk-sized boxes. One black and gold, one black and red. Ricardo was more proficient at juggling than cabinet tricks. Even so, he could think of a dozen possible ways for the painted boxes to play out. Once the trunks were parked in front of their respective teams and the hand-carts were rolled away, Iain said, “Ken, get back with your team. Everyone, stand up straight and listen. Monty, you make the next announcement.” He sat down and steepled his fingers. “Action.”

“Now that the poorest performers have been eliminated from your teams,” Monty said, “it’s time to show off your magician skills by performing a classic trick that takes flexibility, timing, and precision.”

A camera swept the Gold Team as its members eyed the box. Across the room, another cameraman did the same to the Red Team.

Once the cameras got whatever it was they were looking for, Iain told Monty, “Go ahead.”

“This illusion has been around since 1865, when it premiered with the name The Box Escape. When Houdini borrowed the trick in 1893 and put his own spin on it, he re-named it Metamorphosis, which it is still known by today. In this trick, a magician seals