The World is a Stage Read Free Page B

that’s her. Molly said her sister was the queen, and she’s the only one wearing that crown thing. Besides, you’ve got to admit, Mikey—if you squint a little, she’s pretty hot.”
    Michael squinted, and it did, in fact, help.
    Like most of the other actors and actresses on the stage, the supposed sister wore an almost nonexistent dress, stockings that reached to the middle of her thighs, and a corset that made the most out of an already buxom form. There was a definite appeal to that kind of getup, and Michael was trying his best to enjoy it.
    Every woman had value. He firmly believed that.
    “Maybe it’s just the stage makeup?” Michael finally offered.
    “I bet that’s it!” Peterson shouted, happy to latch on to an excuse.
    “You’re being rude,” the woman behind them hissed. “I can’t hear what they’re saying.”
    Michael shot an apologetic look over his shoulder before pulling his attention back to the stage. He had to admit, it was a pretty good production, and the theater was nice enough. It was small and dark and decorated mostly in the deep red draperies whorehouses in Wild West movies always had. Besides, whoever had thought to put all that antiquated dialogue into the mouths of a young, vibrant and scantily clad cast was a genius.
    Boobs made everything better. True fact.
    But it was damnably hard to follow what the actors were saying—especially every time that Gertrude character came on stage and stabbed her freakishly high eyebrows right into her hairline. With a little color in her, she wouldn’t be ugly, exactly. Sour was a better word for it, like a schoolteacher bent on punishing him—and not in the good way. Michael didn’t think he’d ever seen a more unhappy person in his entire life.
    Wooing a shady sex-show actress should have been something a man looked forward to, like a sailor’s first port call. Maybe some intensive tongue-and-voice lessons to start. A whole closet full of those costumes and wild, kinky role-playing later on. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes a little. Maybe that teacher thing wasn’t out of the question.
    “I’ll say this, Peterson. You’re one lucky bastard to have me for a friend. I’ve never been a man to back down from a challenge. In fact, my motto’s always been the bigger, the better.” He chuckled. “Let’s just hope she feels the same way.”
    “Will you please be quiet and watch your language?” The woman kicked his seat this time. “This is a family show.”
    On stage, a pair of men without any shirts on started talking to a human skull. Michael turned and grinned.
    “Lady, if you bring your kids to something like this, you’re seriously demented.”
    When he turned back around, it was to face a pair of ushers who had materialized in front of him. Based on the lack of musculature on display, it was obvious they were in their current positions due to an inability to look good without a shirt on. Both men took one look at Michael and Peterson and lost all the blood in their faces—and he sincerely doubted it was pooling anywhere a man liked his blood to go every now and then.
    “Sir—” one of them began.
    “Um, we’re so sorry, but the noise—”
    Peterson, who split his time between being a concert security guard and a bouncer at a nightclub, swallowed a laugh. He could have booted this pair with a single glance. “We’ll keep it down, boys. We promise. No need to get rough.”
    “It’s not that. We, uh, need to escort you out.”
    Michael sat up and crossed his arms. “My friend here wants to see the show.”
    “But we’ve had several complaints, sir. You’re disrupting the patrons.”
    The shorter of the two ushers, who was clad in an oversized dress shirt and blue cummerbund, swallowed heavily. “Due to the nature of the content, it’s the theater’s policy to provide an escort to the lobby in the event of inappropriate behavior.”
    “If you want us out, you’re going to have to physically remove