ard that that you were tied down now. The old ball and chain. How’s that going for you?”
And that was not in the script, the old bastard. I could almost hear the geriatric glee in his voice at such a pronouncement, and I hoped he’d completed his last will and testament before tonight because he wasn’t going to get another chance to do so later.
And since I wasn’t prepared for it, I blushed.
The entire crowd ate it up and said, “Awww,” like it was something edible and sweet. And since I was in front of everyone, I obviously couldn’t stab Charlie with my eyes. I had a reputation to maintain, after all. One that showed how much I loved the elderly, even if said elderly was going to taste the back of my hand before the night ended.
“Well, yes,” I said, trying to save face. “There is that.”
“And you two look so perfect together,” Charlie said, and the mic picked up Kori snickering to herself, the Benebitch Arnold. “Why, it’s Jack It’s own personal fairy tale. The Queen and the Homo Jock King, finally together. At last.”
The crowd cheered.
“Tell me,” Charlie said, sounding positively devious. “Is there a royal wedding in the near future?”
“Oh my fucking god!” That sounded like Paul, shouting from somewhere behind the stage. “You better not get married before me, Helena, or I’ll punch you in the fucking taint!”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, wondering when my life had gotten so completely ridiculous.
“But enough about that,” Charlie said. “We’re here tonight for another reason, aren’t we?”
Back on script, then. The bastard. “We are,” I said, recovering enough to purr into the microphone. “Tonight isn’t just about fun and dancing and gratuitous nudity and overindulgence in top-shelf tequila and bartenders with amazing nipples.” Izaac winked at me from over by the bar. “No. It’s not just about that. Because we’re here to show that we care about our community. It’s why tonight exists at all. Mike, our dear beloved owner Mike, came up with the most wondrous idea to give back to the community. Which is why tonight is the first annual Helena Handbasket’s Wet and Wild Drag Bachelor Auction Super Fun Time for Charity and Good Feelings!” I grinned wickedly, seeing him leaning back behind the bar, glaring at me. “He even came up with the title, isn’t it wonderful?”
Rapturous applause at Mike’s stunning ingenuity.
Mike drew a single finger from one side of his neck to the other, his eyes never leaving mine.
I ignored him, because that is how one deals with petty threats by balding middle-aged men at an overcrowded gay bar when performing on a stage as a drag queen.
“But it’s for the children,” I continued. “The money raised tonight will go toward Casa de los Niños and Angel Wings, benefitting those less fortunate than ourselves. And especially given that we’re smack dab in the middle of the holiday season, we’re guilting—I mean asking—you to open your hearts, but mostly your wallets and buy alcohol and men dressed in drag in the name of the children. I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t desperately important. You wouldn’t want to let Helena down, now would you?” I pouted prettily, lower lip trembling, eyes surely glistening in the spotlight.
The audience screamed a resounding NO! in response.
I thought it possible that I’d just passed Meryl Streep altogether and entered my own upper echelon of amazingness. I thought she’d forgive me. Probably even praise me.
“Now, boys and girls, I will be your hostess with the mostest this evening, but I will be joined by some friends of mine you’ll undoubtedly recognize, including Sofonda Cox, who crawled out of the cesspool known as Phoenix to spend time in the glory that is Tucson. You make them feel welcome, am I clear?”
They were clear.
“Each of us queens had two beautiful men to doll up tonight. While we did their makeup and picked out their costumes, none of us have seen the finished product as of yet. The first time we see them will be along with you, so I expect there to be plenty of tears, either of pride or horror, I haven’t yet decided.”
The crowd laughed. From the back, someone screamed, “We love you, Helena!”
“Oh, baby dolls,” I said. “I love you too.” I fisted the microphone and began rubbing up and down the handle. “I love every… single… inch of you.”
Hoots and hollers and requests for follow-through.
I grinned rapaciously at them, all red lipstick and white teeth.
“Now,” I said. “I will be handling the bidding. Remember, if you should have the highest bid on the homo jock of your choice, you are winning not only the right to sleep soundly tonight knowing you helped out the Tucson community, but also the satisfaction in knowing that you’ve got yourself a date with said homo jock. But I need to get real with you for a moment. While we joke and have fun here, like we should with all the Republican and Tea Party evil outside these walls, this is a very real matter. One that you probably don’t want to fuck with me on.” That got their attention because of the sharpness of my voice. “If you’re bidding, you’re good for it. If I find out you’re reneging on a bid at the end of the night, if you were stupidly drunk and thought it’d be funny to try and buy what you obviously couldn’t afford, I will find you. I will come to your house. I will spank you until your ass is red and permanently tattooed with my handprints. And then I will burn you to the ground.”
The audience shivered.
“These boys of mine, my homo jocks, have graciously agreed to donate their time and energy for a good cause. They have agreed to go on a date with all expenses paid.” I lowered my voice and coughed into the microphone. “By you of course.” I coughed again. “Oh, sorry about that.”
“Got some homo jock stuck in your throat, did you?” Charlie asked, and I could tell that fucker was smiling.
The audience laughed.