"Oh, really," said Upton.

  "Grant," said Madden who suddenly appeared beside Grant Upton. "I have those pieces you were looking for."

  "What?" asked Upton.

  "You should come and see them," said Madden in a voice heavy with meaning.

  "Oh, right," said Upton. "I'll see you later Kirby."

  "Sure," said Kirby as Madden ushered Upton away, wondering what that was all about.

  "So it's not a problem to get these wrapped and shipped?" asked Kirby.

  Gustav nodded as he put the last long-box on the dolly provided by the concierge and snapped a bungee cord in place to keep them locked in. Kirby had gone a little nutty with the shopping in the last couple of hours, but even the stingier imps of his nature were telling him that for the first time in his life he really could afford more than all he ever wanted.

  "There you are," said Mitch as he appeared, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt with the face of Boris Karloff from The Mummy emblazoned across the front. "I've been looking for you for over an hour."

  "We do have phones," said Kirby pointing to the little disposable one clipped to his belt which he bought for the trip, "you could have called."

  Mitch shrugged. "I could," he said, "but then I wouldn't have run into Teddy Ricci."

  "Shit," said Kirby.

  "Relax," said Mitch, "I didn't get it printed on a shirt. The line in front of the t-shirt printer's a little long right now."

  "Gee thanks," replied Kirby.

  "So," said Mitch, adding weight to every letter of every word, "have you seen Molly yet?"

  "No," replied Kirby, "I'm assuming that she's getting ready for the movie panel."

  "Yeah," added Kirby, "I'm sure that's it."

  "Yes, it probably is."

  "How about your supermodel girlfriend?"

  "Erica is not my girlfriend," said Kirby, "and we are not back in the sixth grade, even though you could pass for it."

  Mitch smiled and an exasperated Kirby turned back to Gustav. "You can take those back up to the suite; we'll wrap them up for shipping later."

  Gustav nodded, Kirby thanked him, and the big man wheeled the dolly to the exit.

  "I noticed that TMZ called you the 'Geeky Gazillionaire,'" added Mitch as Gustav left.

  "Yeah," said Kirby, "so what?"

  "I always had you down as more of a dweeb than a geek," concluded Mitch.

  "You're too kind."

  "You should pop down to artist's alley," said Mitch, "there are guys you've idolized your whole life who want your autograph now."

  "So that's how I finally achieved the admiration of my peers."

  "Face it," said Mitch, "you're a rich, talented comic book artist who has a real life supermodel with a bad case of the screaming thigh sweats for you. You're living the dream of every man."

  "And yet I have to put up with you?" asked Kirby.

  Mitch shrugged. "It's your cross to bear that we live in the age of snark against the more fortunate. I blame the internet."

  "I blame that deep down, you're a little asshole."

  "Guilty as charged," said Mitch, "by the way, I got a line on a source of Freezie Pops."

  "It's nice to see that your life's dream will finally be fulfilled."

  "I'm going to slip out this afternoon and pick up a box or two," said Mitch, "then I have to figure out how to ship some home to New York."

  "Don't even think about sneaking those leaky things into my boxes," declared Kirby. "Remember, Gustav has skills, very scary skills."

  "Note taken." Mitch checked his watch. "The Vengeance Sisters panel will be starting in a bit. Let's go get a good spot. Maybe we'll catch a good catfight."

  "Molly and Erica?" asked Kirby. "Now you are dreaming."

  "Actually I was thinking about Erica and Sandra Doyle," answered Mitch. "I wonder what Freud would say about that little slip."

  "He'd probably diagnose you as being completely full of shit," said Kirby, before giving Mitch a friendly clip on the ear.

  ISSUE #7

  POST PARTY DEPRESSION

  "Goodnight everybody," announced Henry Hack from his DJ platform.

  The music hit a deafening crescendo then started to fade. The crowd cheered and clapped and some fans kicked in and began blowing out the fog which carpeted the floor. The doors opened and people, many in costume, started milling out onto the main convention floor.

  "Did you see your little supermodel friend?" said Molly, her voice poking through the curtain of sound that still hung over his ears.

  "No," said Kirby, "she's been in interviews all day." It was good that Molly was talking to him again. He hadn't seen her all day and was worried that she was avoiding him. She was in her semi-official Con-uniform; a t-shirt showing the comic book versions of The Vengeance Sisters, loose-fitting black jeans, and black and white checkered high-top sneakers.

  "I talked to her a bit before the panel," said Molly. "She saw the picture and hoped you weren't embarrassed."

  "According to Teddy Ricci I'm the 'King of Stud Mountain,'" replied Kirby. "But I was worried that the whole business might hurt her feelings."

  "She told me it wasn't the first time that happened," said Molly with a shrug, "in fact, she said the paparazzi do that to her all the time. Exaggerate a hug here, a kiss on the cheek there, or just plain Photoshop something together, and then they have a wild romance to write about."

  "Now I know how she feels."

  "The whole thing has shattered what little faith I had in the tabloid media," added Molly as they stepped out onto the convention's main floor. The big windows and skylights were all pitch black, and the whole area had that sickly pale appearance from the massive banks of lights hanging from the high ceiling.

  They walked in silence for a moment, the murmur of the thinning party crowd fading around them.

  "I'm sorry I've been a jerk today," said Molly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I've been avoiding you," explained Molly, "when I first saw that picture on my laptop this morning I got all pissy. Probably the hangover talking, because I was actually there and saw the whole thing–"

  "You did have a bird’s-eye view," added Kirby.

  "Yeah, I did," replied Molly, "then, after I talked to Erica at the panel, I ended up feeling like an ass."

  "Why would you feel like an ass?"

  "I just did," said Molly, "mostly because I did avoid you this morning over that picture, and after I realized what an idiot I was, I avoided you because I felt bad for avoiding you like an ass."

  "Well, we're here now," said Kirby.

  "Yes," said Molly, "and I–"

  "Aloha kiddies," said Teddy Ricci, resplendent in an ocean blue Hawaiian shirt and bright green Bermuda shorts, as he came from behind his table to take both of them by the arm. "You're just in time, the Luau Room is open for business."

  "That's great," said Molly, lacking her usual excitement for the Luau Room.

  "It sure is," said Teddy as he pushed open the curtain of bamboo chains at the entrance of his makeshift little tavern.

  "You've really outdone yourself this time," said Kirby.

  He had outdone himself. The room itself was more like a high-walled cubicle with a series of wood and canvas panels formed into a rough square. The panels were then plastered with travel posters of Hawaii, plastic coconuts and faux tropical foliage, including paper flower leis hanging from a coat rack. Four folding tables lined the walls, with little hula-dancer lamps on them, giving the place a pale orange glow. The tables were full of familiar faces, mostly other artists, writers and editors, sipping tropical drinks and talking shop with a handful of the convention's top organizers. Don Ho music played low from an MP3 player plugged into some speakers at the bar.

  "The blame falls on Keith over there," said Teddy pointing to a skinny guy in a mostly greenish Hawaiian shirt tending bar. "He's my website's regional manager and his girlfriend teaches set design at Ryerson's theatre school. She got the panels and the furniture, and then we raided some thrift shops for the rest. Mind you, moving the shelves full of merchandise in and out is a bit of a hassle, but it's worth it."

  "This is impressive," said Kirby.

  "Time for you two to get lei'd."

  Teddy Ricci pulled a pair of paper flower necklaces off the coat rack and draped one each on Kirby and Molly. "Come and have a drink. Keith makes a bitching Mai Tai."

  "Sure," said Molly, sitting on a stool at the bar. "I need to catch up on my alcoholism."

  "At least you'll be a cheap drunk," said Kirby.

  "What does that mean?"

  "I have luggage that weighs more than you," said Kirby, "and my shaving kit can hold more booze than you."

  "That sounds like a challenge," said Molly, waving to Keith the regional manager/volunteer bartender. "Let's have two of your Mai Tai things here. And what do want Kirby?"

  "Very funny," said Kirby.

  "I have to get off my feet," said Molly. "After the panel Ashmore and Cooperman had me doing interviews with every podcast and website that wasn't deemed worthy of talking to any of the movie's stars. I have to admit that, after that panel, doing the interviews was kind of relaxing."

  "Yeah," said Kirby, "I got the feeling that their movie set is not going to be a happy place to work."

  "Nowhere near," said Molly. "The moment the cameras were off, Ashmore and Cooperman were ready to kill each other, and you could catch frostbite from the vibes coming off Sandra Doyle when anyone showed any attention to Erica."

  "I could see it from the audience," said Kirby.

  "So," said Teddy Ricci, "did you have a chance to talk to your new supermodel friend?"

  "No," said Kirby.

  "I did," said Molly. "Managed to get a few words with her before the party but it wasn't much because she was whisked off for an interview with Entertainment Tonight Canada."

  "Canada has its own Entertainment Tonight?" asked Teddy.

  "Apparently," said Molly.

  "What do they cover?" asked Ted.

  "I guess they spend a lot of time stalking Christopher Plummer," said Kirby.

  "Christopher Plummer is Canadian?" asked Molly.

  "Yeah," said Kirby, amazed that someone didn't know that simple fact. "How can someone know so much about show business and not know that Christopher Plummer is Canadian."

  "I always thought he was like British or something," pleaded Molly in her own defence.

  "Really?"

  "I thought he was Australian," said Teddy with a shrug.

  "I feel like I just walked into a Philip K. Dick novel, nothing makes sense anymore," asked Kirby.

  "Have a Mai Tai," said Keith.

  "Then take either the red pill or the blue pill," said Teddy with a laugh.

  "Maybe you should have used Shatner," said Molly, taking a sip of her second drink of the night.

  "What?" asked Kirby, still nursing his first.

  "For your Canadian actor reference," said Molly. "You should have used William Shatner."

  "That was almost an hour ago," said Kirby.

  "Sorry I'm late," said Molly, "I spent some time lost in the wonders of these Mai Tais."

  "Shatner's Canadian?" asked Teddy.

  "Don't you start," ordered Kirby.

  "You should keep this Keith fellow," said Molly. "The world needs good bartenders."

  "He's not a bad manager either," added Teddy, "but don't tell him I said that. He might ask for a raise."

  "Where's Mitch?" asked Molly.

  Kirby shrugged.

  "I don't know," said Kirby. "It's not like him to skip a session at the Luau Room. It gives him a chance to wear his lucky shirt."

  Molly shuddered. Mitch's lucky shirt made Teddy's look positively demure. The front was your standard conglomeration of palm trees on a pale blue background, but the back was what made it special. Mitch had painted the back of the shirt himself with his airbrush kit, carefully composing colours and lines to create the unforgettable image of Princess Leia, in coconut bra and grass skirt, dancing the hula next to a ukulele-playing Mr. Spock, in his original series Starfleet uniform shirt and grass skirt, while the Death Star hung in the sky with a flower necklace around its equator.

  Yet there was no sign of Mitch or his shirt.

  "Hello?" asked a voice from the door.

  "Come on in," said Teddy. "All are welcome here on the island."

  Andi Hack's head popped in through the bamboo curtain.

  "Hello Mr. Baxter," said Andi as she saw Kirby at the bar. "Have you seen my husband?"

  Kirby shook his head.

  "Grab a stool and have a drink," said Teddy. "I'm making a batch of Margaritas and the pretty ladies drink free and by free, I mean on Kirby's tab."

  "How can a girl say no to that," said Andi as she came in. She had changed from the little black number she had worn at the opening night party to a pair of denim cut-offs, a men's white dress shirt that only added to her femininity, and a large white purse slung over her shoulder. "Henry's a big boy, so I guess I could continue my search later."

  "You don't know where Henry is?" asked Molly.

  "He's probably off talking business," said Andi. "He's not finished one show before he's on the phone hustling for another one. This is a nice little set-up."

  "Thank you," said Teddy.

  "Oh," said Kirby, "I'm being an idiot. Teddy Ricci owns Trader Ted's online store, and he's our host for this evening. Teddy, this is Andi–"

  "Andrea Stallworth," said Teddy, "the model." Then he said to Kirby in his own defence: "My wife's a buyer for a clothing store chain. Our house is divided equally between comics and issues of Vogue."

  "It's Hack now," said Andi, "but thanks for remembering an old war horse like me."

  "It wasn't that long ago," said Teddy, passing her a newly made Margarita.

  "It's a lifetime and a half in the modelling business," added Andi as she tasted her Margarita, "this is delicious."

  "By the way," Andi asked Kirby, "where's your big friend?"

  "Gustav's a big believer in a good night's sleep," said Kirby, "and it is," he checked his watch, "past one thirty in the morning."

  "I should just call Henry," said Andi, opening her capacious purse.

  While Andi searched her bag, Molly leaned over to Kirby.

  "Kirby?" she asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  "I want to tell you something," said Molly, "something that I can only say because I got a belly full of Mai Tai."

  "What is it?"

  "Hello," said Bruce Haring's voice from outside the door. "Is anyone in there?"

  "Is that Bruce?" asked Molly.

  "Come on in," said Teddy.

  "Looks like you've got a little party going on here," said Bruce as he came in.

  "Can we get you a Margarita stranger?" asked Teddy.

  "No, thank you anyway," answered Bruce, "I'm still on the job so to speak."

  "Teddy," said Kirby, "this is Bruce Haring, he's Erica's assistant."

  "Nice to meet you," said Teddy.

  "What's wrong?" asked Molly.

  "Found it," announced Andi, "oh, sorry. Now, can I get this damn thing to work?"

  "It's Erica," said Bruce. "She's not in her room and she's got a wake-up call in five hours."

  "I could call her?" asked Andi holding up her iPhone.

  "I've got her phone right here," said Bruce, pulling another iPhone out of his elegantly tailored jacket.

  "Well," said Andi, "I'm going to call my husband, maybe he's... Shit."

  "What?" asked Kirby.

  "I must be tired," said Andi, "I just dialled my own home. It's unlikely for anyone to be there now." Andi's fingers danced across the iPhone's touchscreen.

  A blood curdling scream sliced through the relaxed swaying melodies of Don Ho. The few remaining Luau Room customers all sat up straight. Their ears pricked up to make sure that they really heard what just happened.

  "What was that?" asked Kirby.

  "It sounded like Erica," said Bruce. "Erica!"

  "Where did it come from?" asked Teddy as everyone stepped out of the makeshift Luau Room and onto the convention floor.

  "Over there," said Molly, pointing to Artist's Alley.

  "No," said a penciller from Marvel, pointing to Room A, the open entrance still draped with material from The Vengeance Sisters movie, "it came from over there."

  "Don't be stupid," said an inker from DC, "the scream was over by the main entrance."

  "Where did it come from Kirby?" asked Molly, trusting her old friend's legendary sense of hearing.

  "I don't know," said Kirby, and he didn't. He really couldn't place where it came from. In fact, it seemed to come from everywhere. "There must be some kind of weird echo in this hall or something."

  "What do we do?" asked Bruce.

  Kirby took out his cell phone and pointed at the inker and the penciller. "You two go to the main door and get the security guard. I'll call Gustav."

  "Why Gustav?" asked Bruce as the two artists ran to the main door.

  "It's just good to have him around when there's trouble," said Kirby as he hit the speed dial. "Hello, Gustav, could you come down to the convention floor. Something's happened." Kirby hung up. "He'll be here in five minutes. Okay, we need to look around and to do that we have to split up. I suggest we stay in groups. Teddy and Keith, could you help Bruce and Andi look, you know the layout pretty well?"

  "Sure," said Teddy.

  "Molly," said Kirby, "I'd like you to stick with me. We're going to get hotel security."

  "You got it captain," said Molly.

  "Okay," said Kirby, "wait for the guard from the main door before you start looking around."

  "Okay," said Bruce.

  "Let's go."

  "Mitch?" asked Kirby, as he opened the door into the hotel. "There you are."

  "Yes," said Mitch, wearing his homemade Hawaiian shirt and a stupid grin on his face, "I'm here, when I'm supposed to be in there, but this guy doesn't believe my VIP all access pass."

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28