~ PRESENTING OUR MYSTERY*MATINEE ~
"THE PRINTS
AND THE POPPER"
FROM WHERE WE LEFT OFF
IN LAST WEEK'S CLIFFHANGER
~ ~ EPIC*SODE 2 ~ ~
"The Clot Thickens"
~ By Absolutely*Kate
and
Harry B. Sanderford
"Ah saay, ah saay . . . who the heck parked that fire-enginey red shiny flashy lights vehicle in my reserved T-Bird spot? Doggone it! Is nothin' sacred here AT THE BIJOU? I've been havin' nothin' but fun, fun, fun in that joy jalopy so that Dad never takes it away - - SAAAAAAY Eddie, Shoogs -- what's up with all the down looks perplexin' around here? Where's everybody's customary cheer? -- "
AT THE BIJOU's hometown hero Harry was cut off mid-exclaimin' by the zoooom of Zelda through the double hung virile mahogany doors. "There's a bloody mess in the Ladies' Room I fear!!!"
Sugar, though an indomitable damsel of distinction not ever frettin' distress, still reached for the solid comfort feel of Harry's black leather jacket's appeal, smilin' through her shivers at his constant attempts to be THE BIJOU's Author Fonzarelli. Zelda let loose with a zither of a 'splainin' as to why her hands were a tell'tale crimson and her face bright fright white. And was that Leon lingering under a pulled down fedora near a pile up of tumbled lime jello shots near Zelda's normal lucky row, row number 13?
I saw all this and I saw that well-loved Popper fella Eddie take advantage of the dames on the explain to whip his magnifying glass into range, down a little closer to the side'arm where Jeanette last was seen on the scene. That little bugger bent even further in his furtive investigation and whipped some scrap from the floor to his pocket. Hmm, wonder what that is. I'll have to get closer to see.
Me?
I'm the Phantom AT THE BIJOU. Naturally. I know all but don't necessarily tell all. The only two that really can perceive me, so far . . . is of course that communing Kate and somehow, vibrationally I think, the clever Clevenger, scary that Carrie. Leon might be on to me, but I'm not quite sure ~ a lot goes on under an astute detective-writer's pulled down dapper fedora. Not sure yet if anyone other than Zelda knows he's shadowing this BIJOU scene. I'm sensing Leon feels that too ~ he's moving rather stealthily.
Well let's watch the history of this mystery unfold, shall we? And where's Carrie? You see her?
AT THE BIJOU's hometown hero Harry was cut off mid-exclaimin' by the zoooom of Zelda through the double hung virile mahogany doors. "There's a bloody mess in the Ladies' Room I fear!!!"
Sugar, though an indomitable damsel of distinction not ever frettin' distress, still reached for the solid comfort feel of Harry's black leather jacket's appeal, smilin' through her shivers at his constant attempts to be THE BIJOU's Author Fonzarelli. Zelda let loose with a zither of a 'splainin' as to why her hands were a tell'tale crimson and her face bright fright white. And was that Leon lingering under a pulled down fedora near a pile up of tumbled lime jello shots near Zelda's normal lucky row, row number 13?
I saw all this and I saw that well-loved Popper fella Eddie take advantage of the dames on the explain to whip his magnifying glass into range, down a little closer to the side'arm where Jeanette last was seen on the scene. That little bugger bent even further in his furtive investigation and whipped some scrap from the floor to his pocket. Hmm, wonder what that is. I'll have to get closer to see.
Me?
I'm the Phantom AT THE BIJOU. Naturally. I know all but don't necessarily tell all. The only two that really can perceive me, so far . . . is of course that communing Kate and somehow, vibrationally I think, the clever Clevenger, scary that Carrie. Leon might be on to me, but I'm not quite sure ~ a lot goes on under an astute detective-writer's pulled down dapper fedora. Not sure yet if anyone other than Zelda knows he's shadowing this BIJOU scene. I'm sensing Leon feels that too ~ he's moving rather stealthily.
Well let's watch the history of this mystery unfold, shall we? And where's Carrie? You see her?
"Look you guys! LOOK! I saw a flicker in the balcony! Just now!!", Sugar's dolce vita sweet tones switched to shreik-frequency, bypassing several octaves.
Attuned, a low'range mutter of a man's deep rumble jostled the assembled theatre group, "Here's a clue, crew. That's the Professor, Katie's plum. In the balcony. With a candlestick. He says it helps him be authentic when reading ancient history.”
Leon Jackson Davenport stepped out of the shadows of the seat rows below the balcony startling a starting to be nervous Sugar and the already jumpy Zelda. Funny how he had a knack for appearing out of nowhere. He pushed his fedora back on his head and put a hand on Sugar’s elbow in a calming gesture, “Everything OK up top Professor?”
“I might be able to shed some light . . .” The Prof began.
“You’re going to want to be careful with the crime scene there Junior.” Leon interrupted, turning his attention to Eddie who was now on his belly between the seats wriggling his reach up to the shoulder for something under the chair.
Eddie left whatever he was after where it was and sprang to his feet. “I haven’t disturbed anything Mr. Leon. Honest, just nosin’ around.” Mr. Leon might be the licensed P.I. around here but as far as Eddie was concerned this was his investigation. “When did you get here anyway?”
“Don’t look now but here come the fuzz.”, Harry said nodding in the direction of the double doors that had not seen as much swinging since proprietor Kate’s Three Drink Minimum, 3-D Triple-Feature Thirst-days had been canceled. The promotion had been well received but male patrons routinely forgot to take off their cardboard glasses on their frequent and increasingly less accurate visits to the men’s room.
Lieutenant Phillips was first through the doors followed closely by Sergeant Stine and they by three more uniforms. “OK folks, I’m not sure just what’s been on around here but I have a dead man in the projection booth, a ladies' restroom that looks a bit like the Tate’s place after a weekend with Charlie and one missing movie reviewer. We’ll be needing statements from the lot of you, so please get comfortable.” Paul Phillips, known as The Constable even though his accent was Australian rather than British was a no-nonsense and for the most part a fair and effective policeman. “OK people, you heard the Captain,” Sergeant Daniel Stine barked. He had been passed over for Lieutenant in favor of his new boss and referred to him as Captain sarcastically. “Have a seat and one of the officers will be with you for any information you can lend.”
Zelda was first to speak up offering, “Lieutenant, the professor was just about to shed some light, I think is how he put it, Prof?” All eyes turned to the balcony in time to see The Prof’s candle flicker out cloaking the balcony in utter darkness. “Prof . . . Professor?”
* C * L * I * F * F * H * A * N * G * E * R * !
* AT THE BIJOU *
Please return to next Saturday's Matinee
for the next gut-gripping epic'sode!
" The Prints and The Popper "
