User:Posti/Peanut Gallery

Works by Bob Stein on Shifti

The Peanut Gallery

“Mysterio the Magnificent? You should call yourself Boris the Boring!” Mike didn’t quite shout his derision, but it was loud enough to carry through the carnival tent where the old geezer in a tux was faking yet another hypnosis trick. This time, the ‘volunteer’ was clucking and scratching at the stage floor with one foot, supposedly believing he really was a chicken.

Mike’s ongoing critique wasn’t appreciated by the rest of the audience. They were glaring at him and several started yelling for him to shut up. God, did these morons believe this bullshit? Rather surprisingly, his only support came from the object of his taunts.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please!” Mysterio had raised his hand and smiled up at Mike. “Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. I am sure the young man will allow me a chance to prove I am worthy of my name, rather than shouting insults from the peanut gallery.” He snapped his fingers and the ‘chicken’ did a creditable job of looking surprised and confused. “Thank you, my good man. I believe I have another volunteer.”

“How you gonna do that, old man?” Mike was annoyed to have his heckling thrown back in his face. “Call in another plant from the audience?”

“Of course not. The only way to prove myself is to do something absolutely magnificent, using you as my subject.” Mysterio made a sweeping gesture towards the stage. “Please come down to the stage, sir.” The audience laughed and applauded loudly, and turned to grin at Mike.

His first impulse was to flip the guy off and walk out. Not that Mike believed any of this hypnosis crap, but he was sure Mysterio would find a way to make him look stupid. Then again, it would give Mike a chance to show just what a fraud the guy was. Anyway, if he left now it would give the bastard the victory. “OK, bub. But all you’re gonna do is prove my point.” He worked his way out to the aisle and sauntered down to the stage.

“And your name, sir?” Mysterio flashed a smile, but his eyes showed no sign of humor. Up close, he looked a little more impressive. Slender and just a touch taller than Mike, and maybe not so old as Mike had thought. The tuxedo and white gloves were immaculate, and the man did seem to radiate a kind of energy.

There were some scattered chuckles from the audience, and he blinked. “Uh, Michael.” Damn the man! He’d gotten Mike distracted somehow. OK, score one for the geezer. That was the last victory he’d have tonight.

“So, Mikey.” The guy made a point of using the kiddy version, even though Mike was almost 20. “What can we do to make you a believer? Safely, of course. I’d hate to be responsible for harming a lad with his whole life ahead of him.”

Mike snorted. “Oh, like you scare me? Go ahead and do your worst.” He sneered at the guy. “Or maybe we should go ahead and start calling you Boris the Boring after all?”

“All of you are my witnesses.” Mysterio looked out at the audience, his hands spread open. “What do you think? Should I truly do my worst to this brash young man? For I assure you it is a truly terrible thing.”

“Yeah! Screw him over good!” Someone from the back shouted out, and was quickly joined by some of the other morons eager for a good show. “Show us what you can do!”

“Well, then.” Mysterio tented his fingers under his chin and turned to regard Mike with a cold smile. “You seem to like rhymes. How about Mikey the Monkey? Appropriate for someone from the peanut gallery, is it not?” This brought laughs and applause from the audience.

Mike flushed and clenched his fists at the reaction. It helped to remember that nobody he knew would be out there watching. He’d made the mistake of choosing this two-bit carnival as a rest stop on the long drive back to college. “Ha, ha. Real funny. Whatcha gonna try to do? Have me scratch my armpits and eat a banana?”

“I am sure that would not be enough to impress such a knowledgeable ‘man’ of the world.” Mysterio reached into a pocket and fished out the big gold pocket watch he’d used for his previous subjects. “No, I shall make a real monkey of you. Give your simian behavior a matching form. Will that be enough proof for you?”

This made Mike blink, then give a derisive laugh. The guy was nuts! He grinned. Time to show Mysterio up for the loon he was. “Oh, sure. A real monkey? Fur and tail and ‘ook-ook’, right? Go right ahead. That way I won’t have to finish up my paper on Western Civilization.” He snapped his fingers. “Say, I won’t be able to finish school at all! Guess you’ll need to get me a job here with your lame-ass carnival. I’ll work for peanuts.”

Mysterio simply smiled and nodded. “But of course. I wouldn’t think of abandoning a dumb animal.” That brought a fresh round of laugher at Mike’s expense. The bastard knew how to twist a conversation, but he would still end up the loser here. He raised the gold watch high, and started swinging it slowly in front of Mike’s face. “I want you to look at the watch and relax, Mikey. Focus on the watch and my voice, and empty your mind of everything else.”

Mike made a point of staring past the watch up into the man’s eyes. Better to play it safe and not cooperate at all on the off chance the guy really could hypnotize him. He didn’t want to find himself swinging for the tent poles when this was all over.

“You are feeling relaxed now, Mikey. Tension and fear are draining away, and you hear only the sound of my voice.” The guy was repeating the same drivel he’d used on the first two, trying to pretend it was working. His expression was neutral, giving no indication of annoyance at Mike’s resistance, and he met Mike’s gaze evenly.

The staring contest got boring quickly, and Mike switched his attention to the watch. It looked really old and heavy, probably pretty valuable. Damn, he should have bet the guy something before they started. Bet his car against the watch. The guy wouldn’t have been able to refuse without admitting he was a fake.

There was some fancy engraving on the case. Mike tried to follow the watch to make out what it showed as Mysterio droned on. It was a really pretty watch. The gold glinted dully in the harsh lights of the carnival tent, carefully polished and free of nicks or scratches. He concentrated on the patterns, determined to identify the picture.

“What is your full name?” Mysterio had finally ceased his droning, though the question was posed in the same even tone.

“Michael.James Carter.” The response sorta slipped out before Mike thought about it, but what did it matter?

“No, your name is Mikey. Just Mikey. Monkeys don’t need any more than that.”

That brought a flicker of annoyance, especially when the guy asked the same question again.

He frowned slightly, still intent on figuring out the image on the watch as he answered. “I already told you. Mikey.” Why did the guy keep repeating himself? The audience must be catching on, for a smattering of laughter reached his ears.

Mysterio didn’t react, choosing to continue the farce. “And what do you do, Mikey?”

“I’m a sophomore at the University. Majoring in Business.”

“Oh, I think you are a little confused, Mikey. Perhaps you meant that you major in monkey business?”

“Yeah.” There was more laughter mixed with scattered applause. What were they clapping for? Maybe they liked the fact he was learning to be a.. monkey? Something didn’t seem right, but he couldn’t quite grasp what was wrong. Then the pattern recaptured his attention. He almost had it now. Some sort of geometric pattern, lines and circles.

“And you are a very good monkey, aren’t you? Mikey the Monkey is the best monkey ever.”

“Uh-huh.” Mikey nodded his head distracted, not really paying attention to the man who smiled down at him as he continued to swing the watch back and forth. If he was studying to be a monkey, then he must be good at it. There was more applause that faded away into a collection of gasps and nervous-sounding whispers.

“Mikey the Monkey is a handsome young animal, isn’t he? Everyone likes Mikey the Monkey, because he is cute and furry. Tell me who you are, Mikey.”

“I’m Mikey the Monkey.” Mikey suddenly realized his pants were slipping down, somehow having gotten undone. Weird. All his clothes felt really loose, but he couldn’t work up enough concern to take his gaze away from the watch, which swung in front of the man’s stomach. He was cute and furry, and he didn’t need to wear clothes anyway. The gasps were louder now, and there was some scuffling of chairs. One woman screamed. What were they all so upset about? It didn’t matter – he almost had the pattern now.

“Very good.” The man dropped the shiny thing lower so Mikey could watch it swing back and forth without raising his head. “You are a monkey, and you will remain a monkey for the rest of your life. That makes you happy, doesn’t it? You want to be a monkey forever.”

Mikey nodded absently, having trouble focusing on the shiny thing and the man’s words. There were a lot of other humans here, making loud noises and running away, but he felt safe and happy here. He twisted his tail free of his tentlike shirt, and was relieved when the confining clothing around his legs dropped away. “Yeah. Mikey be a monkey forever.”

“Excellent. We are almost all done here. You have the fur and the tail.” The human squatted down and smiled at Mikey, keeping the shiny thing moving. “I want you to remember, Mikey. Remember who you were and what you had.”

Confusion clouded Mikey’s thoughts, and a swirl of memories returned. Michael James Carter, 19 years old and ready to take on the world, loving family back home, friends waiting for him at school, not a bad guy but a little too smart-mouthed for his own good. The shock was almost enough to break his fascination with the watch, but he realized that the human past now resided in an animal brain.

“When I snap my fingers, you will wake up as a monkey. You will think and act as the animal you are, and the final bit of proof you required will be done.”

The shiny thing was suddenly jerked away and Mikey heard a loud sound. He blinked and looked up in bewilderment, trying to match images of what he somehow knew was his own past with the reality of his existence. The human towering over him made some noises, but all he identified with were ‘my kee’. A jumble of sounds that might have been words tried to make their way out of his throat, but all that emerged was ‘ook-ook.’

The human smiled and nodded, and tossed him a peanut.

The end.