Hollywood Dead (Sandman Slim 10) - Page 11

I almost spit out a mouthful of whiskey.

“You have a karaoke machine and you do bar trivia?”

He nods slowly.

“Pathetic, isn’t it? But you do whatever it takes to keep the doors open.” He gives me a hard look. “What, you never compromised anything to stay alive?”

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I’ve compromised plenty. More than I like to think about. But damn, trivia and karaoke?”

Carlos downs his drink in one swallow.

“I know. I sold my soul. But when I win the lottery— boom!—they’re all gone.”

“You wouldn’t quit the business?”

He chuckles and pours us both another round.

“I’m a bartender. Some people are cops or priests or movie stars. Me? I pour drinks and keep the jukebox cool.”

As the music fades away, someone behind us blows into a microphone.

“Testing. One. Two. Can you hear me?”

The crowd murmurs.

A young guy wearing a pale blue pullover and a tech-startup haircut is hunched over the mic at the karaoke machine. He points to a young woman across the room.

“This is for you, Cherie.”

I can’t help but smile when I see her. This is a taste of the old Bamboo House of Dolls. A clueless tourist slumming in a weirdo bar and he picks up a pretty young thing. Only his paramour is a Jade and if he does or says the wrong thing, she’s going to bite him and drink his guts like a milkshake. I’m almost tempted to tell him, only then he starts singing that Barry Manilow song “Mandy,” but substituting “Cherie” in the chorus. That’s when I decide to let Darwin sort out his fate.

I finish my drink and get up.

“I think that’s my cue to get moving.”

Carlos puts out his hand and we shake.

“Don’t be a stranger. You’re allowed to come back more than once a year.”

“Believe me, Carlos. I will if I can.”

He gives me a funny look.

“How did you know my name?”

Shit.

“I must have read it on Yelp or somewhere.”

He nods, not entirely buying it.

“Okay. Well, come back on a Tuesday and play trivia with those necro bores. I’ll throw in a lot of old movie questions.”

I give him a nod and leave.

Carlos, you have no fucking idea how much I want to make that happen.

Tags: Richard Kadrey Sandman Slim Fantasy
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