(FREE Ebook on SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/773380)
"Sorry to interrupt you." Xeno said to the two powder-skinned men, in matching monkey suits, with racing stripes embroidered over one shoulder. "Could I get an autograph?" He whipped out a sharpie pen and his copy of The White Boy's 5-track Music at the Mall, from his coat pocket, prepared for just such an occasion.
"Ah!" Lee Boy, the gleeful one, turned to his brother with delight. "Look, Welo. A fan has come backstage just to see us."
"It's about time." Welo grumbled, trying to focus on Xeno and Mia through his coke-bottle glasses.
"We don't get many fans seeking us out backstage," Lee Boy said to Xeno, then turned to Mia. "And who is this adorable young lady?"
"I'm Mia." She came forward and shook Lee Boy's hand. "I'm an usher for the exhibition. It's my first real job."
"It's a pleasure Mia," Lee Boy said. "Would either of you like a bottle of apple juice, or perhaps a bowl of lemon jello?"
"Uh oh." A text page appeared on Mia's black box. "I have to run. The Le Strange tour bus just pulled up. Nice meeting you." Mia waved goodbye and darted off.
"Come see us again." Lee Boy waved goodbye, smiling gingerly. "What a sweet young girl."
"All anyone cares about is that Hollymonde," Welo moaned, slurping a bottle of apple juice with a big frown, "and her crappy insect noises. We should be kicking off the exhibition, instead of that no talent hack."
"Welo, remember what I said about keeping a positive mental attitude?" Lee Boy lectured. "Remember the notecard I posted on the refrigerator? P-M-A. Positive. Mental. Attitude."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. There are no small parts, only small actors . . . with really fat asses."
"Welo, shush! You're affecting my sinuses." Lee Boy turned to Xeno with a sudden smile. "I myself am looking forward to seeing Hollymonde perform at the preshow festivities." Lee Boy took the Sharpie and Music at the Mall 5-track from Xeno. "Now, who do I make this out to?"
"Xeno."
"Xeno . . . good, healthy, name." Lee Boy autographed the 5-track cover with diligent, sweeping, strokes, then handed the 5-track and pen over to Welo. "Here, Welo. Sign. And wipe that frown off your face! Shape up, and write something nice for Xeno." Lee Boy turned to Xeno, shifting back to pleasant chat mode. "And what do you do for a living, young man?"
"I work for Intellegella." Xeno flashed his badge.
"Intellegella?" Lee Boy shot an astounded glance at Welo. "Did you hear that, Welo? We have an Intellegella employee in our midst." He turned back towards Xeno. "Do you know Number Three?"
"The guy with the dark glasses and the eyes that glow purple?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Isn't he your brother?"
"Yes, that's right. What a small world."
"Weren't you supposed to be a trio, instead of a duo?"
"Yes, but alas, Number Three hates folk music. He's a bit of a loner. Welo and I are a little bit PR, and a little bit wandering minstrel."
"You don't keep in touch?"
"Oh, we cross paths every so often."
"Why are you singing in malls? I thought the two of you were genuine telepaths."
"We were . . . Tell me young man, have you passed a Zener test?"
"I have, with the help of the industrial black box, and the Noumenol patch. Unlike, yourselves, I'm sort of beholden to technological crutches."
YOU ARE READING
Xenoman
Science FictionXeno yearns to have access to The Nth Dimension like The White Boys, famed telepaths who suffered brain damage when they made contact with extraterrestrial intelligence. Out of work as a bartender since the Shoki Pao dance club mysteriously burned d...