Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

``I'm fine,'' Charlie huffed. ``I should have beat the crap out of that punk.''

Skye patted his hand. ``I'm sure you would have if he hadn't had a gun.''

``Damn straight I would.''

Before anyone else could say something, Bunny stepped onstage. She had changed into a crocheted dress with fringe trim hanging from the short hem.

Skye tipped her head. Was the dress lined in a flesh- toned fabric, or was that Bunny's skin showing through? Skye glanced uneasily at Simon, ho was scowling at his mother's latest fashion statement.

Bunny tapped the mike to make sure it was on, then announced, ``Good evening, everyone. Sit back, have a drink, and enjoy the world of Marilyn Monroe.''

The lights dimmed, the music from ``Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend'' started, and the first Marilyn appeared to thunderous applause.

Some of the impersonators were good, a couple great, and a few awful, but everyone was having a fine time. Skye had relaxed and was chatting with Charlie and Simon when the sixth Marilyn made her appearance.

Skye stopped in midsentence and turned her full atten- tion to the stage. This one was amazing. The dress, the hair, the makeup were perfect. Even the voice seemed dead-on.

Skye squinted. Everything but the hands was right. They were much too large for a woman . . . and the diamond ring on the right pinkie was obviously not a woman's piece of jewelry.

Oh, my gosh! She knew that ring. It was the same as the one the man at the restaurant had been wearing, the same as that on the comic in the first night's talent show, the DEAD BLONDES TELL NO TALES 237 same as the one on the Elvis impersonator. It had to be the goon from Las Vegas. What did he do, travel with a trunk full of costumes?

Skye whispered to Charlie, ``Did you notice if the guy who tied you up was wearing a ring?''

``Yeah, a god-awful diamond pinkie ring on his right hand. Why?''

Skye nodded toward the Marilyn onstage. ``Like that one?''

``Yeah!'' Charlie leaped from his seat, thundered up the steps, and tackled the impersonator, yelling, ``Pull a gun on me, will you? This'll teach you to treat an old man with more respect.'' Chapter 14

Survival of the Blondest Before anyone could react to Charlie's attack on the imper- sonator, Bunny came flying from the wings, jumped on the guy's back, grabbed his ears, and started pounding his head on the wooden floor, screaming, ``What have you done with Ruby? If you've hurt her, you're a dead man.''

The gender-challenged Marilyn's blond wig flew off, soar- ing into the audience, where two women attempted to catch it as if it were a bridal bouquet and they were the last single females in town. Neither lady made a clean catch, and a tug-of-war ensued, escalating into a wrestling match that both the women's escorts felt obligated to join.

Most of the spectators froze, enthralled with the show, but then someone yelled, ``Fight!'' and several men rushed the stage, joining in the melee. They might not know what was going on, but they weren't about to miss a good brawl.

Hacker, the bartender, sighed, scooped up his baseball bat, and waded into the frenzy.

At the same time, Skye shot out of her chair, but Simon grabbed her arm as she sprinted past him. ``Hold it. You'll only get hurt if you go up there.''

``We've got to stop it!'' Skye tried to free herself from Simon's grip.

``How?''

That was a good question. There were now at least a dozen men and a couple of additional Marilyns throwing punches and smashing one another over the head with any- thing available. Skye winced as one guy lifted the karaoke machine and brought it down on another guy's back. Simon was right: At this point, it wasn't as if she could break things up with mere words.

238 DEAD BLONDES TELL NO TALES 239

What could she use to cool the combatants off? Cool off! That was it. She hastily explained what she needed to Simon, who took off at a run, ducking between clusters of fighters. He quickly found the hose that the cleaning crew used to wash down the cement floor behind the bar and connected it to the faucet back there.

After he had it ready, he tossed the other end to Skye, who turned the dial on the nozzle to ``power-wash'' and aimed it at the fracas on the stage. She nodded to Simon, who turned the water on full force, and almost instantly a powerful torrent slammed into the fighters.

Ten minutes later drenched people were trooping out the bar door, and Simon, Bunny, and Charlie were tying up the male Marilyn Monroe. Bunny had contributed her panty hose, Simon his necktie, and Charlie his belt to se- cure the impersonator.

After making sure everyone who was supposed to leave actually did, and that the fighting was not going to start up again, Skye put down the hose and turned her attention to the guy tied to the chair. She poked him in the shoulder with her finger. ``The FBI picked up the disks this morning. You're too late, buddy.''

``Disks? I ain't after no disks. And my name's not Buddy; it's Lance.''

Bunny pushed Skye aside, sloshing water as she moved. ``Where's Ruby?''

``Gimme the ring and the letters and I'll tell you where the old broad is.'' Lance sneered, attempting to look tough but failing. A man wearing a wet evening gown and a nylon stocking on his head loses a lot of his ability to appear dangerous.

Skye looked at Bunny and demanded, ``What's he talk- ing about?''

Bunny pushed a sheaf of wet hair from her face, spraying everyone in her immediate vicinity like a lawn sprinkler. ``I have no idea. Honest.''