Read Online With and Without Class by David Fleming - Free Book Online

brow furrowed. “They used my faces. They recorded the faces… that I made. But that’s not me?” He turned back to the blonde next to Vic. “Why won’t you pay attention to me? I’m here! Right here.”
    He jumped to the stage, swinging the bar through the holographic projection of his face as it sneered condescendingly at him then grinned with brimming passion. He toppled his rubber doppelganger.
    The crowd roared; their chairs squeaked.
    His crowbar ripped into the rubber chest with sparks and pops, with brown and white rubber sizzling, sending bubbling trails along its torso. The unit’s pitch lowered as its cries slowed.
    The crowd’s laughter peppered with groans. “What’s going on?”a short brunette woman in back yelled.
    He swung the bar again and again until the holographic head flickered and then disappeared.
    Chairs rolled and creaked. A heavy man dropped a glass to the floor with a crack.
    Larry winced at the ground then looked up to smirk. “It’s alright…” He sneered. “I’m a professional. I’m—I’m a comedian. I’ve got new material.” The crowbar clanked to the floor. “I won’t fail you… not again.”
    â€œWhat the hell! Larry?” Vic stood, toppling martini glasses.
    The blonde backed up to stand, “Larry?”
    Larry looked to her, “I came to give you the ring back, baby.” He turned to the audience. “Do you ever… Has anyone here ever heard those ads for—for engagement rings? There’s some old man—sounding wise—giving advice.” He looked at the crowd’s bored faces. “Ahh—never mind! You want a different funny. You want insane, cocaine funny.”
    â€œLarry,” The blonde said, leaning forward, “You don’t understand…”
    He staggered to his right, eyeing the crowd. “No wait… That’s okay. Okay. I have others. When people—when people look at you and you think they care what’s happening…”
    Three men in black shirts ran down the aisleway.
    â€œNo wait, wait—it gets better… Listen.”
    They rushed Larry, holding his arms.
    â€œHey,” Larry said, “It’s a show. This is their show.”
    The blonde turned to Vic, “Don’t let them— He doesn’t know…” Her eyes pleaded. “Vic!”
    Vic grinned at her.
    â€œVic!” Larry shouted. “Vic, I came here to give her back the ring, Vic. Let’s let her decide.”
    Vic and Larry’s eyes met.
    â€œLet him go a sec,” Vic said.
    Larry moved to the edge of the stage, got down on one knee and presented the opened black box and the two carat princess cut, shimmering in stage light. “I want you back. I need you. We were good.”
    â€œLarry,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t understand. Things are different. I’m not in the same place.”
    â€œNo, I understand,” Larry said, standing up. He took the ring from the box. “I understand. You won’t take it if it’s from me.” He looked at the toppled unit on the floor and stooped down and bent up one of its rubber arms and outstretched its fingers. “You’ll only accept what comes from Mr. Electric. Fine.” He jammed the ring onto an outstretched rubber finger.
    â€œNo, Larry,” she said. “You don’t understand.” She looked to the glistening ring on the unit’s finger. “Please!”
    â€œCome on, buddy,” a bouncer said, grasping his arm. “I said, ‘let’s go!’”
    Forked veins surfaced beneath Larry’s neck. “VIC!” His shoes screeched across hardwood floor, “You’re wrong, Vic. You don’t know people. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO LAUGH— TO