I won’t risk the fantasy for a 2-for-1 deal,
Oh-oh…”
This time the audience joined in with the chorus to fade. They were jumping up and down and clapping and cheering and Felix simply thought he’d died and gone to heaven.
He was home where he belonged again. On the stage and in common scrubber’s hearts.
Tequila Sun were back together and a hit by all accounts. They concluded the remaining songs in their set list, with the audience eating cream out of the palm of their hands.
Old certainly is gold it seems.
Everything just seemed almost perfect.
But then the show ended, they left the stage to a rapturous support and the shit really hit the fan.
Holly refused to speak to Cherry, and Cherry refused to speak to Holly. Until Rhino tried to intervene.
“She tried to kill me,” squealed Holly. “And she fucked my boyfriend up the arse!”
“It was an accident,” lamented Cherry. “She ruined my life!”
Felix was still too in awe of his own stage phenomenon to notice the catastrophic fallout going on around him.
“You guys!” he yelled above volume. “We did it! They loved us! Does it really matter if we hate each other?”
He kind of had a point.
The girls agreed to disagree and Rhino seemed quite happy to play go-between. This was definitely a different Rhino to 80s Rhino, who really was just a cardboard cut-out in life and on stage.
Rhino and Cherry left in a taxi together and Felix followed Holly into her dressing room, which was pretty much just a refurbished broom cupboard with a mirror, light and chair.
“How come you came?” he asked, unable to stop staring at her tits, like a dirty dog in heat.
“Rhino came to see me. And that fossilised ferret too I believe. He made a few good points,” Holly said, brushing her hair and tying it back into a ponytail.
She looked sublime. The years had certainly been kind to her. Clearly an easier paper round than most, Felix thought.
“Such as?” he then enquired.
Rhino had gone to see the girls. He’d pleaded Felix’s case, having seen how much it meant to him. He also pointed out how much of a money spinner it could be.
“I hated my job. Rhino said we could make some money,” Holly lied.
It had nothing to do with what Holly overheard at the waxwork museum then.
Yeah right.
Felix felt a bit put out that effectively a stranger could convince her into doing something he couldn’t.
“Thanks anyway,” he said, moving in to kiss her on the forehead.
As he pulled away their eyes locked in a passionate, longing embrace. 25 years long!
He stared deep into her soul, and for a moment could sense that she wanted to ravish him too. He moved in to kiss her properly. She was surely tempted. But just as they were about to lock lips, she pulled away, leaving Felix with the rotten egg on his face he’d managed to avoid on stage.
No such luck off it, it seems.
“I have to go, I’ll see you later,” Holly said, making a swift exit.
As Felix went to follow her he was swarmed by his adoring fans. Both of them.
There were a couple of middle aged school-run mums, and they pushed him back into the dressing room. One of them wanted her breast signed and lifted her top up.
While Felix was signing it, the other mum got down on her knees and started undoing his zipper. They then took it in turns. Neither was anything special to look at, but he’d done a lot worse.
As he was ejaculating over both sets of sagging titties, Holly suddenly returned, having forgotten something and walked straight in on them.
Felix didn’t notice, but one of the mums did. She smiled as Holly shook her head in utter disgust and quickly left.
“Same old Felix,” she sighed, and went outside to hail a taxi.
Chapter 10. (Tweet Tweet)
When Felix woke up he had to pinch himself. Everything just seemed too good to be true. The reunion gig actually happened and had been a massive success. Tequila Sun were back together and everyone was at least pretending to get along, some better than others.
Felix was positively on cloud nine.
Holly was speaking to him again for the first time in over twenty years. Rhino was speaking for the first time ever. Even Cherry wasn’t being her usual sour self.
Max Jacks skyped Felix from his Spanish villa to congratulate him.
“Well done Felix,” he said, as he sipped another cocktail by the pool. He was certainly living the high life and Felix was most envious.
He finished his cocktail and a bikini clad totty in high heels brought him another.
Felix was less glamorously sat on his couch in his underpants, looking like something the cat had dragged in. He’d had a drink to celebrate after the show, on his own, in his lonely old apartment.
Max was a wanker but Felix aspired to be him.
“So what’s next?” Felix asked, in eager anticipation.
A million pound record deal? A world tour? Maybe even his own eau de toilette? Felix had often thought about that. He was going to call it Juice du Hunk.
“You need to get a Twitter account,” said Max.
Felix waited for something more to come out of his mouth, but nothing did, other than a pip he spat out after being hand fed a bunch of grapes by his half-naked bimbo.
“Is that it?” Felix asked, a little dejected. “I already have one.”
“Great,” said Max. How many followers do you have?”
“About 37. I don’t really use it.”
“You do now,” said Max. “I want you on it 24-7.”
Felix was still stuck in 1988. He had a fan club way back then. For £5 you got a holographic membership card, a signed photo and an ’I heart Felix’ pin badge.
He clearly had to be dragged, kicking and screaming into the 21st century.
“Whatever you do now, you post on Twitter,” Max explained. “It’s what all the celebrities do.”
The current day equivalent of an olden day fan club, basically. A way to cultivate, keep entertained and to polish your fandom.
“Make a sausage sandwich, post a photo of it. Scratch your arse, tweet about it. The world needs to know. Oh and make sure you post plenty of selfies throughout the day. At least one every hour.”
Max put on such a positive slant, it rubbed off on Felix and soon he was tweeting more than a budgerigar:
“Fancy a cup of tea.
No milk.
Popped to Tesco.
So busy tweeting, I forgot about the milk.”
He was kind of starting to get the hang of it… except he tweeted about having a sausage sandwich and accidentally posted a photo of his bum. As you do.
However, this got retweeted and favourited over a hundred and fifty times and his followers slowly started to go up.
Who knew exposing your derriere could be so advantageous?
About a week later, Max Jacks was back from Spain and announced a special press conference to which he invited all of the band.
Holly and Cherry still weren’t getting on so had to sit bookending Rhino and Felix.
The press were gathered, well those of them that had bothered to turn up, and Max rewarded them with an all exclusive:
New single!
New album!
UK tour of small venues!
Felix was pleased. Rhino was pleased. And as a bonus the girls didn’t kill each other. Although Cherry was tempted.
It was much the same old story. Holly being the centre of attention. Cherry wasn’t sure how much more she could take of this. Surely it was now her time to shine?
Felix was even more excited when Max agreed they could record ‘Supermarket Checkout Operator’ as the lead single. Felix was sure it would be a total smash hit.
He laid down the lead vocal, while the girls recorded the backing vocals – separately, of course – and Rhino played the cymbal.
The finished studio recording sounded divine, even if Felix did say so himself.
And they had a big single release party to celebrate.
Well, in a small pub in Soho.
Felix was still tweeting everything he did:
“Great Party.
Free booze.
Hot chicks.”
Then one in particular caught his eye. She was blonde and ravishing, with a great set of tits. And she was trying to come onto him.
Felix was shocked when she introduced herself:
“I’m Fifi Wood, Holly’s daughter.”
She looked about half his age, and Felix did the math in his head.
Then he fainted.
Chapter 11. (Daddy Uncool)
Felix wasn’t easily shocked. He hadn’t labelled himself tri-sexual for no reason. He’d been there, done that and bought the t shirt on most occasions. But this one was new to him.
Could Fifi really be HIS daughter?
Holly interupted and dragged Fifi away from him, making up some excuse or other. She’d pretty much given Felix the cold shoulder since the night of the reunion concert. And now he was sure he knew why.
The only other thing puzzling him was Rhino Zagreb’s change in personality, or rather discovery of one in possession. Who knew?
Rhino of old made no effort to say boo to a ghost. New Rhino was seemingly everyone’s best friend. What a difference 25 years makes.
Felix ordered another vodka mixer and watched across the bar as Holly introduced Fifi to Rhino. She was flirting with him now, definitely a cut off the old cock, he thought, convinced now more than ever.
She had his good looks and personality.
When Holly started flirting with Rhino as well, it became too much for Felix to bear and he turned to face the opposite direction.
Cherry had yet to arrive and Felix was worried about her. She was becoming increasingly jaded by Holly’s spotlight hogging, and the bad feeling between them was just increasing tenfold.
As he was taking his latest selfie for his now some 67,000 followers, he heard gasps and some commotion going on behind him.
He turned around again to see that Cherry had finally arrived in her most sensationalistic outfit yet.
She looked like a bi-sexual man’s delight.
Like Dr Jekyll and Ms Hyde!
Half of her was dressed as the slut droppin’ Cherry Fontaine, with rosso corsa red bobbed hair, bright matching lipstick and a drop dead gorgeous, plunging neckline dress.
The other half was dressed as her nerdus mcdorkus alias Chesney Foster, complete with brown chords, plaid picnic blanket shirt and pattern-clashing polka dot bowtie; and most unusual of all: half a national health thick-rimmed spectacle frame.
Felix went over to tell her she looked great. Well at least half of her did anyway.
“I’ve changed my name by deed poll to Cherry Chesney,” she announced. “I’ve decided to embrace my unisexual androgyny.”
Needless to say all eyes were no longer on Holly Wood and she was absolutely fuming.
Some press from the Daily Mirror were there and hovered around Cherry taking her picture and asking questions.
Rhino popped over with a drink for Felix.
“How’s it hanging?” he asked.
“Well it was to the left, until the girls showed up,” replied Felix.
“The years have certainly been kind,” Rhino agreed, licking his lips.
“You seem to be getting on well with them both,” noted Felix.
“Holly’s great. And I like Cherry,” he nodded toward her. “She’s certainly looking the part tonight.”
Felix looked over and saw Cherry, still quite the centre of attention and loving it, and Holly not quite so much.
He then excused himself and went outside for a cigarette, where he bumped into Fifi Wood again.
The buttons on her blouse were becoming further undone every time he saw her and he was trying his hardest not to look where a magnet usually drew his eyes.
Fifi was definitely her mother’s daughter. And as Felix feared, her father’s too.
“I didn’t realise Holly had married?” he said, taking another puff of his cigarette.
It was raining lightly and they sheltered in the doorway.
“She never did,” Fifi said, attempting to light up herself.
Felix automatically went to stop her.
“You shouldn’t,” he said. “It’s a really bad habit.”
He’d only had a couple of drinks, well two or three at most, but he suddenly felt really funny. And not funny ha ha either.
He went to move and lost his balance.
Fifi caught him before he could fall onto the pavement.
“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.
Then she started to feel dizzy and stumbled herself.
They hold each other up as they walk down a dark alleyway, each feeling as sick as the other.
Fifi’s heel gets caught in a drain and she falls into the gutter.
They are not alone.
Someone is watching them.
Felix croutches down to check if she is okay and to help her back up, but everything is spinning and his vision has become blurred.
Then he blacks out.
Chapter 12. (Cliffhanger)
It’s the morning after the nightmare before and Holly is frantic.
“Open up Felix, I know she’s in there,” she screams, banging on his apartment door, so hard her knuckles are almost bleeding.
The door opens and Felix stands before her, stark bollock naked, holding all but his modesty in just one hand.
Holly brushes past him and heads straight to the bedroom. Felix follows puzzled, finding some boxer shorts on the way and putting them on as he does.
Holly checks under the bed and in the wardrobe too.
“Let me know when you’ve finished,” Felix says, bemused but clutching his forehead. His head is absolutely banging.
He goes into the bathroom to take some painkillers.
Holly joins him as he’s brushing his teeth.
“Where is she?” she demands.
“Where’s who?” mumbles Felix, with a mouthful of toothpaste, still confused.
Holly is practically in tears.
“Your daughter!” she squeals.
Felix is rinsing his mouth and nearly chokes on it, spitting as he does.
“My what?” he gasps.
“She never came home last night,” Holly sobs.
Felix is still a step behind.
“Fifi is my daughter?” he feigns in shock, though he is clearly feigning feigned shock. “And you never told me?”
“Actually I did once,” claims Holly. “But you were so drunk all the time, you forgot.”
This time the surprise is on Felix, or rather not. How could he forget his own daughter? Was his drunken 80s and drugged up 90s haze that bad?
“Does she know?” Felix asks. “Maybe she ran away?”
“No,” says Holly. “And she’s 24. Not 11.”
Felix has a flashback to the party and remembers being sick in the alleyway - with HIS FRIGGIN’ DAUGHTER - but then nothing. He elects not to mention it.
“I’m sure she’s okay. She probably just went home with a friend,” he insists instead.
“I’m calling the police,” Holly says as she frantically tries to dial her phone, but she’s shaking so much, she drops it on the floor.
They bend down to pick it up simultaneously and clash heads.
Felix catches Holly’s eye and they share a brief moment, but just as he’s about to kiss her – to comfort her, of course – her phone rings and she pulls from the would-be embrace.
Caller ID shows that it’s Fifi.
“Fifi! Where the devil are you?” Holly yells down the phone furiously, as she goes off into another room for privacy.
Felix finds some jeans and pulls them on, closely followed by a ‘Felix Says Relax’ t shirt, and starts to make a cup of tea.
When Holly returns, she looks like she’s carrying her tail between her legs.
“She’s fine,” she says, having calmed down a touch. “She slept on a friend’s couch.”
“I think we all had too much to drink,” Felix declares. “But from what I can remember it was a pretty good night.”
“I should probably go,” Holly says.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a cup of tea?” Felix asks.
But Holly is too embarrassed, makes her excuses and leaves.
Max Jacks calls Felix to tell him some good news.
‘Supermarket Checkout Operator’ has been out digitally since midnight and has already reached the heady heights of no.177 in the midweek chart.
Now they just have to figure out a way to increase the bands profile and in turn, sales, to get it higher, which is going to be no mean feat given that half the band are still at loggerheads.
Felix is still in shock at discovering that Holly was in the same room with him, whilst he was wearing only his underpants, and able to resist his Sex-Godliness.
Oh and that he has a 24-year-old daughter that he never knew about!
And Holly is still smiting that Cherry overshadowed her at the single release party.
Felix goes to pour himself another cup of tea, officially cementing himself as a quintessentially old British tea drinking pensioner.
At that very moment, the paperboy pushes a copy of The Sun newspaper through Felix’s letterbox and to his utter dismay, his worst fears are realised.
Plastered all over the front page is a censored picture of him in bed with his daughter Fifi, along with the headline:
Pop Incest Shocker!
There is another loud knock on the door, but this time it’s the police… and he’s also under arrest for sodomising the Aunt Sally waxwork dummy from Master Tussauds!
It seems pop’s big comeback is almost over before it’s even begun.
Rhino arrives just in time to see Felix lead away in handcuffs, looking concerned until the panda cop car pulls away.
Then he grins wickedly.
He goes home, unlocks a padlock on the door to his basement floor hatch, turns on a torch and climbs down the steps inside his sex dungeon.
It’s dark and kinky, but there tied up in a cage in the corner at the back – naked, bound and gagged - is his absolute doppelganger.
***What Next…?
So the band were back together and riding the crest of a wave in the pop charts again.
Cherry was cultivating style and Rhino was becoming a pro at banging that cymbal.
In fact the only awkwardness was between Felix and Holly themselves, although neither knew exactly why.
Dream Myself Alive At Christmas Page 7
