George Martin - Deuces Down

“As should we all,” said Peregrine. “Being an ace is an attitude. Though a good fashion designer helps.” Sam realized then that she wasn’t got up as the Queen of Angels but the Queen of Pentacles, wearing what had to be a Bob Mackie original.

Jim began to look distraught, then showed the remote to Peregrine. “I checked all the buttons, but there isn’t a hip-narrowing function…”

Peregrine smiled. “Oh yes there is. I was in more than enough beauty pageants when I was younger.” She furled her wings and moved closer, checking out Paul’s butt, now that he’d reached a more reasonable height. “Do you have any athletic tape?”

“No,” said Jim, then produced a silver roll from the pocket of his tux, “but I have duct tape.”

Paul’s eyes almost popped out of his head, literally. “You’re not going to duct tape my ass!”

Peregrine’s wings rustled softly as she laid a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder, her nails as gold as her lipstick. “Trust me, dear-there are no jokers, only aces with bad publicists and fashion designers.”

“Yeah, all Bloat needed was a muumuu…”

Peregrine only smiled. “And a press kit. This is showbiz. We’re selling a fantasy.” She cast a glance around, then locked eyes with Topper standing next to Sam. “Melissa! My goodness, I didn’t even notice you! What are you doing here?” She smiled her most dazzling smile, an advertisement for the virtues of toothbonding and cosmetic dentistry. “I know you have athletic tape in that hat of yours. Could we trouble you for some?”

“Uh…” said Topper, and Sam realized that the world’s chattiest ace talk show hostess was the last person that Topper wanted to know that she’d lost her magic conjuring hat.

“Good luck,” said Alec. “She won’t even give me my cummerbund.”

“Which I just found,” said Cameo, appearing from behind Dirk. “It was behind the couch in the greenroom.”

“Cameo!” Peregrine exclaimed. “So lovely to see you.”

“Say it on camera and I’ll believe it, Peri,” she replied, taking a moment to adjust her hat. As she brushed by Peregrine, there was a sudden loud *ZOT* and a flash of electricity and ozone, and the only thing Sam could figure was that the beads on Cameo’s flapper dress had somehow acted as a conductor and allowed the static electricity from Jim’s remote control and Paulie’s braces to arc to Peregrine’s copious amounts of metal jewelry. Her hair went up like the Bride of Frankenstein and her wings spreadeagled on reflex, the feathers whacking the front edge on Alec’s Mohawk, and the spiraled ivory horn.

Alec screamed and the scream turned into a whinny as his face elongated, becoming more horselike, and his body became more staglike, and his legs became more goatlike, and his tuxedo split apart, revealing a lion’s tail, very much like the one Sam possessed, except in white, with an elaborate tassel at the tip, like the one possessed by a heraldic lion-or a unicorn, which was what Alec had become. Only his spiraled horn, Mohawked mane, long white goatee and mass remained constant between forms. He waved his cloven hooves, pawing the air as the remnants of the tuxedo fell to the stage, then he came down hard on them, looking at Peregrine with fire in his eye, an accusatory snort, and his horn pointed straight at her heart.

Lenore was squawking and screaming and trying to become airborne while the static in Peregrine’s hairdo collapsed, and she stood there, a wisp of smoke coming from the underwires of her support bra. “What happened?”

“You’re not a virgin!” Jim exclaimed.

“What?” said Peregrine, dazed. “Of course I’m not a virgin-I’m a mother! How many mothers are virgins?” She blinked, starting to focus on the unicorn in the top hat in front of her.

“Alec shifts if anyone who’s not a virgin touches the tip of his horn,” Jim explained. “He can only change back if he has a virgin ride him.”

“What sort of ‘ride’?” asked Topper.

“A short one. Five, ten minutes, tops.” Jim paused and bit his lip. “As for virgin mothers, there’s Sister Mary Immaculate over at Our Lady of Perpetual Misery. She’s given birth the last seven Christmases in a row, and she’s the one we get to ride Alec if there aren’t any other virgins handy.”

Velvet Brown put up her hand. “So any girl who’s never had sex with a man counts?”

“I think so,” said Jim. “Lesbians can still be virgins, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Velvet smiled her starlet smile, then threw her arms around Alec’s neck and announced, in the worst British accent Sam had ever heard, “Pie’s the best horse! I’m going to ride him in the Grand Nationals!” With this, she planted a kiss right at the base of Alec’s horn and swung herself up on his back, posing as if she were ready for her closeup.

Alicorn the unicorn’s eyes went wide and then he screamed, rearing up, champing the air, Velvet Brown clinging frantically to his mane as he shook his head till the ridiculous top hat flew free.

“I don’t think she’s a virgin,” Jim said. “Alec gets very upset if someone who’s not a virgin gets-” Jim broke off abruptly as Alicorn’s hoof lashed out and knocked the universal remote from his hand, sending it spinning and skittering across the stage, weird energy arcing in all directions, grounding itself into every bit of metal in sight, then some beyond it as the curtain began to rise, the ropes of the gaffing system beginning to pull it up via electronic pulley.

“What’s happening?” Peregrine demanded.

“My remote!” Jim screamed. “He smashed it! And I think he hit play !”

On cue, the bands’ instruments behind them, everything from Dirk’s drumsticks to Roger’s electric fiddle, rose up into position, borne aloft by strands of phantom energy, and started into the opening strains of Irving Berlin’s ‘Top Hat.’ Then a gap open in the curtain as the drapery swags parted and the unicorn made for it, still screaming, running out onto the runway spit accompanied by the screams of Velvet Brown mixed with those of countless other girls.

A camera operator ran in, wearing headphones and a mike. “Peri! The cameras are acting like they’re possessed, but that doesn’t matter-we’ve somehow got a live network feed! We’re live! We’re live! ”

“It’s all audiovisual and entertainment…” Jim said plaintively. “Did you say The Network?”

Peregrine and Roger exchanged looks, then, with the instincts of veteran showpeople, they turned to the wings and called, “Cue the Rockettes!”

Peregrine then took the cameraman’s headset and stepped forward, into the breech, announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, live from the new, and aptly named, Club Chaos, Mtv is proud to present a special Halloween show- New York ’s new hometown favorite, The Jokertown Boys! ”

Sam balked-Alec had become hoarse all right. Or horse. Or unicorn, as was the case, and he had the choice of joining the band as replacement singer or chasing after his friend. It was an easy choice, and not just because of the rattle of tap shoes behind him or the screams and wild applause as the unicorn ran the length of the runway, Topper running after him and Velvet Brown screaming, “Jerry, you idiot!” as they vaulted into the aisle. Sam followed, National Velvet Jerry or whoever she was still astride Alicorn’s back as the unicorn ran into the lobby, out the main doors, and up the street, vaulting cabs.

Somewhere in the lobby, Sam realized that John Fortune was with them, in fact outpacing Topper, quidditch robes far better suited to running than stiletto heels, and they all caught up with Velvet Brown just as she was dumped on her ass in the middle of the roadway, Alicorn continuing up the street without her.