"Mike Resnick - A Little Night Music" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

but I call the boy back and tell him to take the pizza back and
see if he can get me a refund, and once it's out of the room Vlad
starts recovering his composure.
Then a guy comes by and announces that they're due on stage
in 45 minutes, and I ask if he'd like me to leave so they can get
into their costumes.
"Costumes?" he asks blankly.
"Unless you plan to wear what you got on," I say.
"In point of fact, that is precisely what we intend to do,"
answers Vlad.
"Vlad, bubby, sweetie," I say, "you're not just singers --
you're _entertainers_. You got to give 'em their money's worth...
and that means giving 'em something to look at as well as
something to listen to."
"No one has ever objected to our clothing before," he says.
"Well, maybe not in Chicago or K.C. -- but this is L.A.,
baby."
"They didn't object in Saigon, or Beirut, or Chernobyl, or
Kampala," he says with a frown.
"Well, you know these little Midwestern cowtowns, bubby," I
say with a contemptuous shrug. "You're in the major leagues now."
"We will wear what we are wearing," he says, and something
about his expression tells me I should just take my money and not
make a Federal case out of it, so I go back to my office and call
Denise, the chick who dumped the soup on me, and tell her I
forgive her and see if she's busy later that night, but she has a
headache, and I can hear the headache moaning and whispering sweet
nothings in her ear, so I tell her what I really think of no-
talent broads who just want to get close to major theatrical
booking agents, and then I walk into the control booth and wait
for my new act to appear onstage.
And after about ten minutes, out comes Vlad, still dressed in
black, though he's added a cloak to his suit, and the three
Impalers are in their white nightgowns, and even from where I'm
sitting I can see that they've used too much lipstick and powder,
because their lips are a bright red and their faces are as white
as their gowns. Vlad waits until the audience quiets down, and
then he starts singing, and I practically go crazy, because what
he's doing is a rap song, and worse still, he's doing it in some
foreign language so no one can understand the words, but just
about the time I think the audience will tear the place apart I
realize that they're sitting absolutely still, and I decide that
they're either getting into it after all, or else they're so bored
that they haven't got the energy to riot.
And then the strangest thing happens. From somewhere outside
the building a dog starts howling, and then another, and a third,
and a cat screeches, and pretty soon it sounds like a barnyard
symphony, and it keeps on like that for maybe half an hour, every
animal within ten miles or so baying the moon, and then Vlad stops
and bows, and suddenly the kids jump to their feet and begin