Free Geek Tragedy by Nev Fountain Page B

innocently, ‘Merely a little touring exhibition of props from the show, dear heart. Money in the bank.’
    Smurf looked curiously at the machine. ‘If Bernard’s out here… Who’s driving the thing?’
    Andrew Jamieson sauntered lazily up to them, a cigarette dangling from his lips. ‘I’d watch that habit of yours,’ he said to Smurf, pointing at the cigar clenched between the dwarf’s teeth. ‘It’ll stunt your growth.’
    ‘If I’d had a penny for every time you’ve said that,’ growled Smurf, only half-jokingly, ‘I’d have enough to stand on and punch you right on the nose.’
    With an impressive ‘phtttsh’ noise the Styrax door opened (a recorded sound effect—the doors were like any normal Mini Metro) and Simon Josh poked his head out with a beaming smile and a regal wave.
    ‘What’s he doing in there?’ muttered Smurf. ‘It’s not like Bernard to let anyone near that, let alone that little tit.’
    Andrew grinned. ‘He can’t do much about it since it’s not his any more. Bernard sold it to him about five minutes ago.’
    ‘ What? ’ erupted Smurf, ‘I’ve been trying to get him to sell that to me for years! And he sells it to Simon arsing Josh without so much as a squeak? What the hell does he think he’s playing at?’
    Andrew shrugged. ‘Might have been Simon’s price for not booting him out of the convention.’
    ‘Hell of a way to say sorry,’ muttered Mervyn, ‘I’d have just bought him chocolates.’
    Nicholas said nothing.
    There were ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the onlookers, as if someone had let off a firework. It wasn’t too far from the truth. Simon had thrown a switch inside the machine, and the Styrax Superior lit up. Red lights designed to give the impression of robotic eyes glowed from the front, and strip lighting pulsed around the weaponry. The whole effect was like a lovingly preserved mobile disco.
    There was a cheer, and respectful applause. Simon bowed.
    The crowd barely noticed Bernard slinking back into the hotel like a wounded animal.
    Smurf did, however. ‘I’m going to see about this. Sell that thing to Josh? What the hell’s he thinking?’ The dwarf marched hotly into the hotel after Bernard, the glass door revolving angrily behind him.
    ‘Lunch?’ Mervyn said to Nicholas, but there was no reply forthcoming from the ex-Producer. Nicholas was also looking in the direction of the hotel entrance. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his normally placid features knotting in concern.
    It’s amazing , Mervyn mused, all this fuss over that old thing. When all’s said and done…it’s just a used car.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Mervyn went back to his room. No sooner had he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes than there was a dull thud on the door—not quite a knock, but too deliberate to be an accident either. He got back up and opened the door. On the floor was a large jiffy bag, sealed and unaddressed. He picked it up.
    He suddenly tensed, realising what he was doing. One learned to be wary of anonymous packages when one lived in London. Perhaps it was a piece of hate mail left by an angry fan? Or worse—some kind of explosive device courtesy of the paramilitary wing of the Vixens from the Void Appreciation Society? Bloody vengeance for the dead Styrax?
    Oh what the hell…
    He tore it open. Incredibly, it contained Vanity’s book. Had Vanity dropped it off? Probably. Like a lot of larger-than-life female stars she was always firing off presents, more out of a need to be reassured that someone somewhere was thinking of her, than any feeling of generosity.
    One of the pages had been folded over. It was the first page of Chapter 13. He read quickly, his eyes tumbling from left to right.
    Chapter 13: From Little Acorns do GREAT BIG Oak Trees Grow!
    Let me let you into a little secret. I’ve always wanted to shag a midget. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some midget fetishist. I don’t get my kicks while watching Charlie and the Chocolate