"Speakin' a theories," I said, "we got one that isn't goin' to work itself out without a lotta pushin' from us."
The vampire stretched his arms and yawned. "All right. I'll take care of the disco and the architect if you can start checking into the casino and the shops. Okay?"
I had to admit I was a little taken aback by his enthusiasm.
"You mean right now? It's pretty late."
He showed me his fangs in a little grin. "For you, maybe. Us night people are just starting to wake up, which means it's just the right time for me to start scouting around for a band and bar staff. Since we're on different missions anyway, though, I've got no problem if you want to catch a few Z's before you do your rounds. What say we meet here same time tomorrow for an update?"
Now, folks, I may strut a bit and loud-talk even more, but I'll also be the first to admit that little Massha doesn't know everythin'. One of the many things I know next ta nothin' about is how ta run a casino. Considerin' this, it was easy ta see I was goin' ta require the services of an expert ... in casinos, that is. It took me a while to locate him, but I finally ran my mark to ground. He was slouched at a back table in a dingy bar, and from the look of him things hadn't been goin' real good. I was glad ta see that ... not that I wished him ill, mind you; it just made my sales pitch a little easier.
"Hiya, Geek," I said, easin' up to his table. "Mind if I join ya?"
He blinked his eyes a couple times tryin' ta focus ‘em before he realized that the person talkin' to him really was that big.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't one of the M.Y.T.H. Inc. hotshots. What brings you to this neck of the woods, Massha? Slumming?"
I pulled up a chair so's I could sit close to him. I mean, he hadn't said no, and that's about as close to an invitation as I usually get.
"I know you're busy. Geek, so I'll give it to ya straight. We're cookin' up a little deal and I'd like you to be a part of it. Interested?"
"Well, whaddaya know. After making me sell my club and putting me out on the street, the Great Skeeve has a deal for me. Isn't that just ducky!"
Now I may not know casinos, but I know drunk when I see it. Seein' as how it was just sunset, which for the Geek is like early morning, he was in pretty bad shape. The trouble was, I needed him sober. Normally I'd a taken him off someplace and let him sleep it off, but I was in a hurry. This called for drastic action.
Glancin' around the place to be sure there were no witnesses, I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around his neck, and gave him the biggest, juiciest kiss I knew. One of the other things I know more than a little about is kissin', and this particular sample lasted a fairly long time. When I felt him startin' ta struggle for air, I let go and leaned back.
"Wha... Who... Massha!" he said, gaspin' like a fish out of water. "What happened?"
I batted my eyelashes at him.
"I don't think I catch your drift. Big Red."
The Geek just sat there blinkin' for a few seconds, one hand on the top of his head like he was afraid it was goin' ta come off.
"I... I don't know," he managed at last. "I've been drunk for ... what day is it? Never mind! ... for a long time. Now all of a sudden I'm wide awake and stone cold sober. What happened? How long have you been here?"
I smiled ta myself and mentally accepted a pat on the back. My record was still intact. I've been told more times than you can count that nothin' sobers a body up as completely or as fast as a little hug and a kiss from Massha.
"Just long enough to catch the curtain goin' up," I said. "Now that we're all present and accounted for, though, I want ya ta listen close to a little proposition."
The Geek used ta be one of the biggest bookies at the Bazaar. At one point, he had his own club, called the Even Odds. Of course, that was before Skeeve caught him usin' marked cards and suggested strongly that he sell us his club. I wasn't sure how the Prez would react to my cuttin' the Geek in on this new project, but he was the only one I could think of who had the necessary knowledge to set up a casino and was currently unemployed.
"I don't know, Massha," he said after I had explained the situation. "I mean, it sounds good ... but a casino's a big operation. I'm not exactly rolling in investment capital right now."
"So start small and build. Look, Geek, the house is going ta be providin' the space and decor rent free. All you have ta do is set up security and round up some dealers to work the tables."
"Did you say ‘rent free'?"
It occurred ta me that maybe I shouldn't have sobered him up quite so much. Now he was back ta thinkin' like a Deveel bookie.
"Well... practically. The way I figure it, the house will take a piece of the action, which means you'll only have ta pay rent if you lose money."
"That's no problem," the Geek said with a smile. "With the dealers I'm thinking of, there's no way we'll end up in the red."
Somehow, I didn't like the sound of that.
"I hope it goes without sayin' that we expect you ta run a clean operation. Geek," I warned. "I don't think the Great Skeeve would like ta be part of settin' up a crooked casino. Content yourself with the normal winnings the odds throw the house. Okay?"
"Massha! You wound me! Have I ever run anything but a clean game?"
I gave him a hard stare, and he had the decency to flush slightly.
"Only once that I know of," I said, "and if I recall correctly it was Skeeve who caught you at it that time. If I were you, I'd keep my nose clean... unless you want ta wake up some morning on a scratchy lily pad."
The Geek sat up a little straighter and lost his smug grin. "Can he really do that?"
"It was just a figure of speech, but I think you catch my meanin'. Just remember, the only times you've lost money on our crew is when you got suckered into bettin' against us."
"That's true," the Deveel said with a thoughtful nod. "Speaking of Skeeve, are you sure there won't be a problem there? The last time I saw him we weren't on the best of terms."
"You worry about the casino and leave Skeeve ta me," I smiled confidently, hopin' I knew what I was talkin' about. "Anyway, Skeeve's not one ta hold a grudge. If memory serves me correctly, Aahz was all set ta tear your throat out that last meeting, and it was Skeeve who came up with the suggestion that let you off the hook with your skin intact."
"True enough," the Geek nodded. "The Kid's got class."
"Right. Oh! Say, speakin' a class, you might try to run down the Sen-Sen Ante Kid and offer him a permanent table of his own."
The Deveel cocked his head at me. "No problem, but do you mind my asking why?"
"Well, the last time he was in the vicinity for that match-up with Skeeve, I got stuck baby-sitting that character assassin you fobbed off on us. That means I'm the only one on our team who didn't get a chance ta meet him... and, from what I hear, he's my kinda guy. Besides, he might appreciate settlin' down instead of hoppin' from game to game all the time. Aren't any of us gettin' any younger, ya know."
"Ain't that the truth," the Geek said with a grimace. "Say, that might not be such a bad idea. Having the best Dragon Poker player at the Bazaar as a permanent player at the casino would be a pretty good draw."
We talked a while more, but it was all detail stuff. The Geek was on board, and the casino was startin' ta take shape.
Casinos may not be my forte, but nobody knows retail stores like yours truly. Bunny may be aces when it comes ta findin' class outfits at decent prices, and Tananda sure knows her weapons, but when it comes ta straight-at-ya, no-holds-barred shoppin', they both take a back seat ta Massha.
I had noticed this place long before the assignment came up, but it stuck in my mind so I thought I'd check it out. There were big "Going Out Of Business" and "Everything Must Go" sale signs all over the window, but they had been there for over a year, so I didn't pay ‘em much heed.
For a storefront shop, the place was a disaster. Their stock could only be described as "stuff"... and that's bein' generous. There were T-shirts and ash trays and little doll
s all mixed in with medications and magazines in no particular order. The shelves were crammed with a small selection of the cheap end of everything. They didn't have as many clothing items as a clothing store, as many hardware items as a hardware store ... I could go on, but you get the point. If you wanted selection or quality in anything, you'd have ta go somewhere else. In short, it was just the sort of place I was lookin' for.
"Can I help you, lady?"
The proprietor was perched behind the counter on a stool readin' a newspaper. He didn't get up when he talked ta me, so I decided ta shake him up a little.
"Well, yes. I was thinkin' a buyin' a lot of ... stuff. Can you give me some better prices if I buy in volume?"
That brought him out from behind the counter with a pad and pencil which had materialized out of thin air.
"Why, sure, lady. Always ready to deal. What was it you were thinking of?"
I took my time and looked around the place again.
"Actually, I was wonderin' if you could quote me a price on everything in the store."
"Everything? Did you say everything?"
"Everything.. including your sweet adorable self."
"I don't understand, lady. Are you saying you want to buy my store?"
"Not the store, just what's in it. I'm thinkin' this place could do better in a new location. Truthfully now, how has business been going for you lately?"
The owner tossed his pad and pencil back onto the counter.
"Honestly? Not so hot. My main supplier for this junk just raised his prices... something about a new union in his factory. I either gotta raise my prices, which won't help, since this stuff is hard enough to move as it is, or go out of business, which I've seriously been considering."
I thought it would be best not to comment on the union he'd mentioned.
"You don't think a new location would help?"
"New location ... big deal! This is the Bazaar at Deva, lady. One row of shops is like any other for pedestrian traffic. On any one of those rows you can find better stuff than I got to sell."
This was turnin' out ta be even better than I had hoped.
"Just suppose," I said, "just suppose the new location was in a hotel, and suppose that hotel had a casino and disco. That would give you a captive clientele, since nobody wants ta leave the building and wander around to find somethin' they can buy right where they are."
"A hotel and casino, eh? I dunno, though. Junk is still junk."
"Not if you had an exclusive to print the name of the place on everythin' you sell. Junk with a name on it is souvenirs, and folks expect ta pay more for them. Right?"
The proprietor was startin' ta get excited.
"That's right! You got a place like this, lady? How much ya asking for rent?"
"Minimal, with a piece of the action goin' ta the house. How does that sound?"
"How much floor space do you have available? If I can expand, I can get a volume discount from my supplier and still raise my prices. Say, do you have a printer lined up yet?"
"Hadn't really thought about it."
"Good. I got a brother-in-law who does good work cheap... fast, too. How about a restaurant? All those folks gotta eat."
Now that was one that had slipped by both Vic and me.
"A restaurant?"
"...'Cause if you don't, I know a guy who's been looking to move his deli since they raised the rent on the place he's got."
I had a feelin' my problems with the storefronts was solved.
"This is the pits, you know?"
"How about that? The Pitts?"
"No. How about the Funny Farm?"
"Uh-uh. The Snake Pit?"
"Will you get off pits?"
"Well, then, how about ..."
What we finally settled on was The Fun House. Our judgment was influenced a bit by the fact that I managed to locate a down-at-the-heels carnival. We let ‘em set up on our grounds, and they gave us our pick of their displays for decorations.
The best of the lot was the outsized figures they had on top of their rides... and particularly The Fun House. These figures were of bein's from all over the dimensions and were animated to move their arms and heads while hidden speakers went "Ho Ho Ho" at passersby. I thought they were terrific and had them installed all over the outside of the hotel... except for the Fat Lady. Her I had installed in the men's John off the lobby.
Once we had that, the rest of the decorations fell into place. There wasn't much we could do to make the shape of the building excitin', so I had it painted with wide stripes ... like a circus tent, only with more colors.
Vic did the disco, and it was a beaut. He did the whole place in black: floors, walls, ceiling, furniture, everything. He also attached chairs and tables to the walls and ceiling at different angles with life-sized dummies in evening attire. The overall effect was one of disorientation, so that when the band was goin' and the lights flashin', you weren't really sure which way was up. To add to the effect, the dance floor was slanted a bit and rotated slowly. It was like bein' suspended in space and bein' buffeted by cosmic winds and gravity at the same time. He even named the club "The Pit" in appreciation of me and to apologize for comin' down so hard on the name when I suggested it for the hotel.
The casino was all mine, and I decided ta go for broke. I found a painter with a sense of humor, and we did the place in camouflage... except instead of usin' greens and browns, we leaned heavy on the basic colors in day-glo shades. For a crownin' touch, we spaced mirrors all around the place, but we used the distortion mirrors from the carnival Fun House. This not only gave the place the illusion of bein' larger, but when the customers glanced at themselves in the mirrors, they had the same kind of meltin' lines as the decor. It definitely raised questions in the mind as to exactly which reality we were operatin' in.
Vic was afraid the impact of the whole operation was a bit bright, but I argued that the whole idea was ta stand out from the crowd and let people know we were there. I did, however, unbend enough to agree that we should have Skeeve on hand for our meetin' with Hysterium the night before our opening. I mean, negotiatin' never was my strong suit, and I had no idea how the client was going to react to our rather innovative ideas.
"You've ruined me! That's what you've done! Ruined me!"
That was our client speakin'. You may guess from the sound of it that he was less than pleased with our work. When you realize that that was how he was soundin' after we had spent an hour calmin' him down, you've got an idea of exactly how unhappy he was.
"I'm not sure I understand what your problem is, Mr. Hysterium," Vic said. "If you have a complaint..."
"A complaint?" the Deveel shrieked. "I wouldn't know where to start! What did you people think you were doing, anyway?"
"We were tumin' your dump into a profit-makin' hotel. That's what we were supposed to do."
I was tryin' to stay out of this ‘cause a my temper, but I had to get a word or two in here somewhere.
"A hotel? A hotel? This isn't a hotel! What I left you with was a hotel! What I came back to is a sideshow! And what do you mean by profitable? All the rooms on the first floor are gone! That cuts my rental earnings by twenty percent!"
"Twenty percent of an empty hotel is still nothing!" I shot back.
"Massha's right," Vic said, stepping between us. "We needed that space for attractions to draw in some customers. Besides, everything we put in there generates revenues for the hotel."
"Not if they don't sell anything!" Hysterium argued. "Have you been in any of those places? Have you seen the junk they're selling? And the prices... they're charging more for a cup of coffee in that club you put in than I'm used to paying for a whole meal!"
"Not everybody eats as cheap as you do," I muttered under my breath.
"What?"
"I said you stand ta clear a heap when they do ... sell stuff to the customers, that is."
"But there aren't going to be any... Ohhh! I'm ruined!"
The Deveel sank int
o a chair and hid his face in his hands.
"Of course, if you had wanted design approval, you should have stayed around. As it was, Massha and Vic had no recourse but to use their own judgment." That was Skeeve speakin' from his chair in the comer. So far, he hadn't done much more than listen to the rantings.
"Stayed around?" Hysterium's head came up with a snap. "They made me go! They said I'd have to trust them if I wanted to use your outfit's services."
"Precisely," Skeeve nodded, changin' tactics without batting an eye. "You wanted our services, you trusted us, and we serviced you. I don't see what the complaint is."
"What the complaint is, is that you charged me an arm and a leg ... in advance ... to put me out of business! If I had lost money on a regular hotel it would have been bad enough, but to lose money and be made a laughing-stock to boot... ." There were tears formin' in the developer's eyes. "That was my wife's family money I invested. I could turn a profit if I only had the capital, I told them. Now ..."
His voice broke and his head sank again.
"If that's the only problem, maybe we can work something out."
"Forget it! Cutting your fee wouldn't help. I need to make money, not lose less."
"Actually, I was thinking more of taking the hotel off your hands. Buying it outright."
I shot a glance at Skeeve. He was leanin' back in his chair studyin' the ceiling.
"Are you serious?" the Deveel said hopefully.
"Why not? That way you turn a profit of ... say, fifteen percent over cost? ... for the building and land, and making the place work, much less dealing with its reputation, will be our problem. That's what we agreed to do in the first place... sort of."
Hysterium was on his feet pumpin' Skeeve's hand almost before the Prez had stopped talkin'.
"I'll tell you, Skeeve... Mr. Skeeve... you're, a real gent. This is terrific! Just when I thought... I can't tell you how much I appreciate ..."
"Don't mention it," Skeeve said, retrievin' his hand. "Why don't you go on over to my office right now? My secretary is still there. Just explain everything to her, and she'll start drawing up the papers. I want to have a few words with my agents, then I'll be along to sign off on the deal."
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