The Village – Part V : The Court Jester by David Crerand
The crowd was on their feet , roaring their approval . That first gulp of cold Pepsi , from the bottle which was always waiting for him just offstage , splashed down his throat . It quickly soothed the parched flesh , which was raw from forty-five minutes of yelling , cursing , screaming , and whining , doing whatever it took to coax laughter out of the club ’ s patrons . And , from the sound of things , he had definitely hit his mark tonight .
“ Randy , could you please ?” came the usual request , and the proffered piece of paper and pen was thrust into his hand . He quickly scribbled an autograph , pushing it back out into the void swirling around him as he continued making his way off stage . The short hallway between the stage and his dressing room was crowded with people , some who had reasons to be there and the rest who didn ’ t but were hoping for a glimpse of the famous comedian . People were calling out to him , congratulating him on his performance , but he just kept his head down and pushed on toward his dressing room .
Finally , as the dressing room door closed behind him , he allowed himself the little luxury of drawing a deep breath . The room wasn ’ t empty , but it was filled with those who he expected to be there : his personal assistant Margaret , who had been with him for years ; his agent Morty , who was on the phone as usual ; a couple local radio personalities and a pair of contest winners who were there for a “ meet and greet ” with the star . Margaret was moving to his side with a cigarette and a lighter ready at the offing . Morty was lining up the guests for
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