The music ended. Swaying stopped. Serge stood directly over the captives. “And now we’ve come to the Q-and-A portion of the program. Most of the other guys have tons of questions when they reach this point. That’s why I like people: We’re adorably curious. So, what’s on your minds?”
Muted desperation under mouth tape.
“Oh, right. Your particular procedure means you can’t ask questions at this time. No problem. It’s come up before. We’ll just go to Serge’s Florida Experience F. A.Q. And if you don’t know what F.A.Q. stands for, that’s actually the first question in my F.A.Q. None of the other travel service F.A.Q.s think of that. Accept no substitutes!” Serge squatted low for intimate conversation. “Second question: What kind of incredible learning curve of jollies is old Serge about to take me on? The answer is in that shopping bag! Shall we go to the shopping bag?”
Coleman took a triple hit off his roach clip. “Whoa! Good weed! Serge, can we go over to the shopping bag with out-loud music this time?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Cool.” Coleman stubbed out the roach and joined Serge, singing and jitterbugging across the room: “Let’s go over to the shopping bag! Let’s go over to the shopping bag! Let’s go over to the shopping baaaaaaagggggggg!… And see what fun’s inside!”
Serge grabbed the sack, and they began dancing back across the room to piercing whines of desperation.
Serge: “And see what fun’s inside!”
Coleman: “And see what fun’s inside!”
Serge: “Ohhhhhhhhh! Let’s look into the shopping bag …”
Coleman: “Right on into the shopping bag …”
Serge: “What the fuck’s in our shopping baaaaaaagggggg? …”
Coleman: “Some crazy fuckin’ shit!”
Serge opened the top of the bag and began rummaging. “Let’s see what we got here …” He extracted items one by one. “Doorbell, extension cord, vegetable peeler, post office overnight express envelope …”
Coleman, pianissimo in the background: “… Some crazy fuckin shit, some crazy fuckin shit…”
“… Bicycle inner tubes, soldering iron, model railroad tracks, tiny envelope of fake diamonds. That’s about it … Oh, and those two other big things on the floor with the molded rubber grips. Travel tip two-fifty-four: Always have a portable, self-powered five-in-one roadside auto emergency center. Heavy as hell, but worth every ounce. That’s because of the giant internal electric cell you charge up at home. But you ask, Serge, what are the five uses? To the F.A.Q.! One, fluorescent lamp for engine work; two, cell-phone recharger; three, battery jump-starter; four, flashing highway-shoulder warning light; five, air compressor with over-pressure cutoff to fill tires after using Fix-a-Flat … And for today’s lucky contestants, a sixth additional use chosen especially for you!”
“They fainted,” said Coleman.
Serge lightly tapped cheeks. “Wake up, you don’t want to sleep through the additional use or you’ll kick yourselves.” Tapping turned to slaps. “Wake up! … That’s better. Pay attention because I’m only going to say this once. My intricate plan begins with this doorbell. Houses are so much bigger today! Who can hear the doorbell from the Jacuzzi? So they came up with a new remote broadcasting system. See this little ringer?” Serge turned it around. “Wireless. Takes a single double-A battery. Adhesive back that sticks permanently to the outside doorframe and transmits a hundred feet to electric chimes …” -he held up a small white speaker in the other hand-“… that you plug into a wall socket in the back of the house … Again, I read in-quisitiveness in your eyes: How on earth did you dream this up? Home Depot! Whenever I’m suffering a creative block, I wander the aisles and ideas flood! … Now just sit back and enjoy the show.”
Serge turned on the soldering iron and grabbed the vegetable peeler. He dove into his science project with usual speed and obsessive attention. Covers were unscrewed on the doorbell chimes and roadside emergency units. Wires pulled out and stripped with the peeler, circuits rerouted. Tendrils of smoke rose from fused electrical posts. He gripped each of their heads. “Hold still. This won’t hurt.” More plugs went into sockets. Rubber tubes clamped onto male fittings.
Serge stood. “And that about does it… Brilliant, eh?”
They looked up with vacant eyes.
“I keep getting that expression,” said Serge. “You don’t get it? It’s so obvious!”
Still no flicker in their stares.
“Okay. Guess I have to explain everything. I’ll start at the back end with a little diamond-courier inside dope.”
Coleman’s head snapped up.
“Dope?”
“Knowledge.”
“Ick.”
