"James Patrick Kelly - The Leila Torn Show" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

The Leila Torn Show by James Patrick Kelly
James Patrick Kelly has two new books out from Tachyon Publications: a novella, Burn, about forest
fires, Henry David Thoreau, baseball, and apples and Feeling Very Strange: The Slipstream
Anthology, co-edited with John Kessel. He recently joined the faculty of the Stonecoast Creative
Writing MFA program. In his latest story for us, Jim views a new sort of drama from a very unusual
perspective.

The Leila Torn Show was nervous as she surveyed the audience on the studio monitor, trying to get a
feel for their mood. When her band played her theme song as Slappy O'Toole stepped onto the set for
the pre-show warm up, their fanfare was ragged. Chill, the band leader, glared at Bebop, the trumpet
player, and Bebop stared at his shoes. The Leila Torn Show could see the studio audience shifting
uncomfortably in their seats. She winced as Slappy's jokes bounced off them. Maybe they were just
tired. Or hearing-impaired. Or Estonian. A bead of sweat glistened just below Slappy's receding hairline.

The Leila Torn Show had known all along that there would be a huge letdown after last week's episode,
when she had killed off her main character. But she had to push on. If she could just hold her own
through tonight, she'd be all right.

Her content providers were already looking ahead. In the comedy segment of next week's episode, they
wanted to send someone to the dentist. The ceepees hadn't decided who it would be yet, although
Slappy had already put in his bid. The Leila Torn Show felt sorry for him; he was in just one scene this
week and he had only two lines, a joke about the weather. Her staff demographer had explained to him
that his numbers skewed old and fat. Grandmas with deep fryers wrote him fan email but they didn't buy
enough upscale product.

The ceepees were pitching her a waiting room scene for the dentist episode that would feature two or
three oddballs.

"Odd but wacky," Cass said.

"In a surreal way," said Graves, the head content provider.

Then would come a teeth-cleaning scene. Margo Rain, the guest talent, was to play the chatty hygienist.
She'd go blonde, of course, and pump up her boobs a cup size. And the hemline of her uniform dress
would be short as a sinner's memory. "She'll stop the eighteen to twenty-five-year-old males in
mid-click," said Graves. "Remotes will fall from their trembling hands." But it wouldn't do to stereotype
Margo Rain. After all, she was a legitimate actress, not bound to any one show. She had the complete
works of Ibsen loaded into her memory. Euripides. Edward Albee. The Leila Torn Show was courting
respect this season. She was tired of going for the cheap laugh.

"Thing is, I can't help the way I look," Slappy told the audience as he wiped his forehead with a limp
handkerchief. "Me, I've always been hard on the eye, so you might say." He puffed out his cheeks. "I
mean, I was so ugly as a kid that I had to trick or treat over the phone."

A ripple passed through the first four rows of the studio but died there. The Leila Torn Show snorted in
disgust. The studio audience was still breathing, but that seemed to be all they were capable of at the
moment.

The ceepees were proposing a classic complication for the crime segment of next week's episode. After
one of the talent--probably not poor Slappy--finished getting his teeth cleaned, he would grab his