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 50 GPs were sent to Arakun the twisted raccoon  with this post.
It was almost curtain call. George kept his ears open. Confusion erupted backstage. “Becky’s sick.” Under his Tamino makeup Greg's face was white. With the alternate disabled and Becky now hospitalized, maybe they couldn’t fill the Queen of the Night role. “What was it?” “We don’t know.” Backstage, costumes, orchestra black-and-white had converged. From inside came worried voices, moaning and retching. George could hear Conductor Goldstein and Christine. Christine sounded concerned. “She started gasping and vomiting. I tried to help but she got worse.” “You think she can perform later? Curtain’s been delayed.” “I don’t think so.” “I’ll announce it. We need to replace Becky somehow. Will says the ambulance is here.” Goldstein left the bathroom, but the crowd was already spreading the news. Their Magic Flute, so splendid in dress rehearsal, was collapsing. Finally George and Christine were alone. They slapped high-fives. This time they’d turned tables. Becky, who’d caught their plagiarized recording and almost made Julliard too hot for them, wouldn’t be singing tonight. “Red-hot performance” reviews, indeed! George, imagining Becky’s misery, giggled. “I’ll swear by Moruga Scorpions forever!” No more I’m going to be a star superiority from Becky while their careers languished. “Maybe I’ll get the part! I know the part, although I never got anywhere because of the scandal!” “It was my idea, my plan, my peppers!” “But I did it. I force-fed her, I kept her quiet until she was too sick to talk.” “Only because you had access to the Lady’s! And I didn’t benefit, except revenge.” Uproar broke. “Capsaicin!” “Sabotage!” “Becky never ate hot peppers before singing, always apples!” “Staff’s checking security cameras!” “Who was with Becky?” George and Christine stood thunderstruck. Why hadn’t they considered cameras? They’d considered everything else, even Christine’s unannounced costume-disguise and silencing Becky. Their careers were over. [300 words] |
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