The Wizard of Gore Page #2

It was brilliant.

Everything about it was misdirection.

Even his patter about

escape was an illusion.

Control, that was the illusion.

And then the way

that he turned it back on itself

and made it seem like

everything was out of control.

Did you see his face

when he got caught in the act?

Literally, caught in the act.

Brilliant.

That's a real fancy rationalization

for some obvious misogyny

you got for yourself there.

And that woman...

oh, excuse me, the slut...

that he dragged onstage.

How'd you know who she was?

Cayenne strips

at Jumbo's Clown Room.

So you're on

a first-name basis with strippers?

Sometimes I feel like

I don't even know who you are.

Everyone knows Cayenne.

Mm. Everyone.

Yes, everyone does,

and that was actually

Montag's one mistake.

When he pulled her up on stage

and ripped her dress,

he said people pay

good money to see this.

He never would have known that

had he not met Cayenne before.

That was his only mistake.

Everything else...

Everything else was perfect.

It was choreographed like a dance.

Like a striptease?

You're just floored because you like to see

naked chicks, Ed, face it.

That's my girl, Cayenne.

Jumbo's.

Frank, it's Edmund Bigelow.

I know, it says so on the caller ID, stupid.

Look, is Cayenne in yet?

No.

Well, I need to see her

as soon as possible.

Look, you want a private arrangement

with Cayenne,

you don't call here, remember?

Because I don't know

what you're talking about.

Wait. You don't know

what I'm talking about?

You want Cayenne?

Look, make like a bunny

and bounce, you hear me, Ed?

Montag the Magnificent

greets everyone at the door

with hands so greasy

it's a wonder his fingerprints can hang on.

The most disgusting part of the show.

Greetings, salutations.

Greetings and salutations.

Greetings and salutations.

Greetings and salutations.

- Greetings!

- Mister...

Mr. Montag, my name is Ed Bigelow.

Salutations.

I would love to speak

with you after the show

- if that's at all possible...

- Salutations.

...about a story that I'm working on.

It seems that we are speaking,

and that the story has already begun.

Greetings and salutations.

Greetings.

No repeat customers.

Who'd think someone besides you,

besides us, would, uh,

return for a second helping?

There's Cecelia.

Let me guess.

Everybody knows Cecelia.

No comment.

Every night, the geek

sets up the act like bowling pins

so the magician can throw a strike.

It's the same song and dance

two nights in,

right down to the shocked girl

with the look of disgust

plastered across her face.

She's got no idea what she signed up for.

Or does she?

Two nights, two girls, same day job,

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