I was also starving, and my stomach was telling me it wanted something very special. I knew what it needed, so I turned Shamu in the right direction and maneuvered through traffic with my crosshairs on the corner of La Brea and Melrose.
Hondo called while I waited at a stoplight and said, “You still out there?”
“Yeah, for a little longer, then I’ll call it a day. Right now I’m going to get something to eat.”
“Where?”
“Pinks. I feel the need for a couple of stretch chili cheese dogs.”
“I hear that. I’m going to the house and make more calls. If you need me…”
“I’ll call. See you in the morning,” I said.
After I ate at Pinks, I meandered to the Sunset Strip and cruised up and down the length of it, looking at the people. When I approached The Comedy Store, the hairs on my neck stood up.
Magilla Sykes, wearing a silver LA Raiders windbreaker the size of a circus tent, was hurrying along the sidewalk. He dwarfed everyone. Several people stared at him with open mouths as he passed. I pulled over to a parking space and got out just as he ducked his head to enter The Comedy Store. I took a deep breath and followed.
Inside the Comedy Store, it was wall-to-wall people, and I soon saw why. It was Open Mike night, and a group of the newest, hottest comedians on the West Coast was on stage and had the audience in hysterics. They were alternating with anyone from the audience suicidal enough to try an amateur act sandwiched between the two white guys, brothers Jim and Raymond Sellers, the black woman, Etta Jefferson, and the two Latinos, Carlos Mendoza and Adan Puente. They were all playing off each other and enjoying it. Comics call it in the zone, and this group was on fire. The crowd ate it up. Pauley Shore watched from the far side, laughing his head off.
When my eyes adjusted, I spotted the girl near the front edge of the stage. She wore a ball cap and was dressed in a black tee shirt, jeans and running shoes.
I saw Magilla looking over the crowd, but he hadn’t located her. I worked my way forward, but it was tough going in the standing-room-only crowd. I found a small gap in the mass of people and hurried toward the edge of the stage just as Jim said, “How about a little fun now?” The crowd roared.
He said, “I think what we’ll do is have someone from the audience come up and improv with us.” The crowd yelled. Raymond hopped beside him, the mike between them, and Etta, Carlos and Adan stood behind them, ready to go.
Raymond yelled at the audience, “C’mon you cowards!” The crowd went nuts.
The girl looked around and saw something behind me at the back of the crowd. She squirmed through the audience, moving along the front of the stage, still looking behind me.
I glanced back, expecting to see Magilla standing in the area where she looked, but it wasn’t. It was John Wesley. I hurried forward and reached the edge of the stage just as a woman spilled her drink.
My foot hit the ice cubes and I looked like an Olympic skater attempting a triple axel until I hit the stage and rolled across it, stopping at the mike.
They helped me up, with Raymond saying, “Good Lord, Sonny. You don’t have to dive onstage just to touch Jimbo’s garments.” He gestured to the crowd, “Ladies and Gentlemen, it looks like we’ve got a live one tonight.”
I felt like a Christian being led to the two largest lions in the coliseum. The mike was in front of me, with Jim on my left, Raymond on my right, and the other three comedians close at my back. I was sure I would die like the dirty dog that I was, impaled countless times by rapier wit.
I watched the girl edge to the far side of the stage, looking for a way out. Jim said to me, “What’s your name?”
“Ruh…Ruh…Ronny.”
Raymond clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Well, Ruh-Ruh Ronny, you ready for a
little action?”
A disturbance in the crowd caught my attention. Magilla was pushing through people like they were nothing, but even for him it was difficult getting through a crowd packed together like sardines. He changed direction, stepped on the stage, and came toward us.
I moved my head back from the mike so it wouldn’t be amplified and whispered to the comedians, “He’s coming for me.” I nodded my head at Magilla.
They looked at him, then at me. Jim and Raymond moved me behind them, putting themselves between me and Magilla. Then Raymond went into a flaming gay role and flounced to Magilla. “Oh my goodness, Jamesy, do you see this hunka hunka burnin’ love come walking into our bedroom?” He wrapped his arms around Magilla’s bicep and squealed, “Ohh, ohhh!”
Jim motioned with his hand for me to leave, then he minced over to Magilla saying, “Ray-Ray, isn’t he just the most darling thing! He’s like having a whole room of tight ends!”
The crowd yelled with laughter. Magilla was at a loss. He had no beef with the comedians and the fact that he was now part of their routine had him stymied. Raymond pranced to him and ran his hand over Magilla’s jacket, “The thilver giant has come to help us tone our muscles.”
Etta Jefferson came up to Magilla from behind and grabbed his butt cheeks with both hands as she yelled, “Thank you, God!” She motioned as if for the crowd to come forward, “There’s man flesh here for all of us!” The crowd was in hysterics. She said to Magilla, “Honey, if you weren’t AC/DC before, you will be tonight!”
Carlos Mendoza and Adan Puente motioned me over. Carlos said, “Pal, you better get out of here quick before Godzilla decides he doesn’t want to play anymore.” Adan pointed in the direction the girl had gone, “That way, then you can go left or right and be out of sight.”