Puppet Graveyard
“He stood there in his blue serge suit, bald head reflecting the stage lights, totally impervious. To the drunks, the noise, the buxom girl shaking her tits on stage.When he saw Kitty coming, he frowned, placed his hands on his hips and just shook his head. He took her by the arm when she was close enough, pulled her into the corridor and shut the door behind them so he could hear himself think.“Listen, we go through this shit every night, you and I. It’s getting old,” he said to her, that big m...itt still on her arm. “Now I’m going to tell you, honey, what I tell you every night: Mr. McBane and his dummy don’t want any company. All that shit on stage…it’s just an act, okay? They’re not looking for followers.”Kitty bristled, pulled her arm away. She was small and fine-boned, thin as a peach twig…but about 110 pounds of poison if you pissed her off. “And I’ll explain to you one last time that I only want to talk to Mr. McBane. Nothing more.”“Listen, honey, I think the guy’s married and the boss here, he don’t like anybody playing around in the dressing rooms.MoreLess
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