Read Online The Big Bamboo by Tim Dorsey - Free Book Online Page A

disruptions. The last straw was when they used a bunch of extras to film a riot, and it became a real riot.” Serge tilted his head to see around the line. “Then, to add insult, the latest blow from California. They’re making a move on our cash crop.”
    “What’s that?”
    “You say Florida, and people think oranges and tourism. But our biggest export is weirdness. Remember a few years ago with those fugitives and chads and Elian and that guy who slept with his pet alligator under suspicious circumstances and had all those bite marks? Everyone you talked to: ‘Man, you people in Florida are crazy!’ Then California elects a robot and puts a bunch of losers on trial. They stole our weirdness crown. I mean to take it back.”
    The line grew shorter until Coleman could see someone sitting behind a desk signing movie stills. “He’s short.”
    “Tall for a Munchkin,” said Serge. “Did you know he played six different parts?”
    “Which?”
    “One of the trumpeters, a female Munchkin in a bonnet, and who can forget those eggs where the cute little baby Munchkins popped out?”
    Coleman pointed. “Looks like we’re up.”
    An assistant at the desk asked which movie photos they’d like to purchase.
    “Just a second,” said Serge. “I need to do something first.” He turned to the people in line behind him. “Could you please step back…That’s right, a little more…”
    Serge faced the desk again. “Karl, this is going to bring back memories…” He placed his hands on his hips and began thrusting his pelvis: “We represent the lollipop
guild
!…the lollipop
guild
!…the lollipop
guild
!…We represent…”
    The assistant stood up. “Sir, please…”
    “Wait, there’s another verse.”
    “We have a long line.”
    “All right,” said Serge. “Hey, Karl, bet you haven’t heard that in a long time. But don’t get all misty on me…”
    “Sir, which photograph?”
    “Right, which picture? Let’s see…the one with the good witch? No…Here’s one with Dorothy and Toto…Karl, you knew Garland. What was she like? Did she keep in touch or just climb over the Munchkins on her way up? Any red flags of the drug abuse yet to come?…”
    “Sir!”
    “Of course. That would be out of school. And you’re a class act…Did you get to see the flying monkeys? They scared the shit out of me when I was a kid! What about you? I mean, you were an adult and knew they were fake. Still, the concept—minding your own business walking along the yellow brick road. Did you realize they have these giant condors in the Pacific Northwest that can pick up a full-grown Munchkin? Then you’re sitting two hundred feet up a tree in a big nest with the hatchlings. What kind of life is that? My advice: Stay clear of Portland…”
    “Sir, I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
    “Leave?…Oh, I see what this is about. Moving product, making him sign his little hand off. Well, your days of exploiting him are over!…Karl, I got your back…”
    “We’re calling the police.”
    “Good. Call the press, too. Let’s see what
they
think about this Munchkin sweat farm.”
    Crash.
    A rack of figurines went over.
    “Coleman! Run!…”
     
     
     

5
     
THE FOOD COURT OF A
NONDESCRIPT MALL IN BURBANK
     
     
    Aman in a paper hat swept the floor behind the counter. “I hate pretzels!”
    “Shhhh!” said Ford. “The customers.”
    “What customers?” said Mark, a choo-choo over his right breast.
    “Some might come in,” said Ford.
    Mark set his broom against the wall. “Didn’t you tell them we didn’t want to be closers?”
    “It’s all they had.” Ford looked down at a stack of typewritten pages that he kept behind the register.
    “I hate closing,” said Mark. He glanced up at the clock, fifteen till ten. “You get everything put away, all ready to split, and some idiots come in with a minute to go and can’t make up their minds. Then they finally order something