(Author’s note: since I didn’t have access to some 50 Residents in the proper skin and costumes, I’m asking you to suspend disbelief on my photos, and supplement things with your own imagination. Either road, here’s a short Christmas story from the 48th Century, and my character Ariel Sherman. HG)
Ariel glanced around her at the four dozen-plus gold and silver people surrounding her. As usual, The Land of Fantasy had put on a phenomenal production of its current revue show, and everyone looked satisfied with things, no matter the changes in the script for the evening. Of course, for cyborg memories, “changes in the script” were rather small beer. It was the human pride in their craft that shone here, pride in performing in a once-a-year show to the satisfaction of both themselves and a demanding audience.
There was still a final act to go before they rang down the curtain for the next four weeks, for the show’s annual break. This would not be the usual finale, though, with its famous nudity; not on this night. For this was Day 357 on the Limlight Standard Calendar. There were children in the audience tonight, and the entire performance was much more family-oriented. Especially for tonight’s finale, the one element of this special show which had not changed from year to year. To Ariel’s demanding eye, everyone looked happy, prepared, and confident. She nodded happily back to them, said, “Alright, people; let’s do it,” and got back words and signs of agreement. “Go, Dalton,” she whispered to her organic stage manager, who grinned back, tapped at his tablet, and gave the needed orders. Recorded music began playing; the “small” curtain in front of Ariel opened thirty seconds later, and Lady Ariel Sherman entered at stage center, sweeping through the curtains in a massive ball gown of white satin.
She dropped into a stage-depth curtsey as the audience cheered and applauded and the rest of the cast and company entered behind her. Each of the feature acts took their own bows, then arranged themselves behind their star artiste. The audience quieted at last, and Ariel said into the amplification field, “Thank you all so much for coming tonight to The Land of Fantasy! It’s always our joy and pleasure to perform for you, but doubly so on special nights, such as this.”
I can’t say why we keep ending up at clubs and bars and coffeehouses, except they’re convenient places with lots of poses laid in already, and often props to help out as well. Of course, for this song, a bar or club is really needed.
It’s quarter to three There’s no one in the place ‘cept you and me So set ’em up Joe I got a little story I think you oughta know
We’re drinking my friend To the end of a brief episode So make it one for my baby And one more for the road
I know the routine Put another nickel in that there machine I’m feeling so bad Won’t you make the music easy and sad
I could tell you a lot But you gotta to be true to your code So make it one for my baby And one more for the road
When last we met, Jemmy was giving me the Dickens — in a joshing sort of way — over not properly introducing Morgan to the readers … in a Technicolor photoshoot of colorful alien skins and fantasial costumes.
To which … I agreed that she was right. And, as Morgan looked on in fascinated horror, I started to make my plans ….
Second Life® with Harper, Conan, Jem, Diana and Morgan
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