Soul Music - Intimidation

It was very dark in the alley behind the Cavern, and only the keenest-sighted would have seen several figures pressed against the wall. The occasional glint of a tarnished sequin would indicate to those who knew about such things that these were the Musicians' Guild's crack enforcers, the Grisham Frord Close Harmony Singers.

Unlike most of the people employed by Mr Clete they did, in fact, genuinely have some musical talent. They'd also been in to see the band.

'Do-wop, uh do-wop, uh do-wop-' said the thin one. 'Bubububuh-' said the tall one. There's always a tall one.

'Clete's right. If they keep pulling in audiences like that, everyone else is out of the show,' said Grisham.

'Oh yeah,' said the bass man. 'When they come through that door-' three more knives slipped from their sheaths '-well, just take your time from me.'

They heard the sound of feet on stairs.

Grisham nodded. 'A-one, a-two, a-one-two-thr-'

GENTLEMEN?

They pivoted. A dark figure stood behind them, holding a glowing scythe in its hands. Susan smiled horribly.

TAKE IT FROM THE TOP?

'Oh, nooo,' said the bass man.

Asphalt unbolted the door and stepped out into the night. 'Hey, what was that?' he said.

'What was what?' said Dibbler.

'I thought I heard some people running away . . .' The troll stepped forward. There was a ting. He reached down and picked up something. 'And whoever it was dropped this . . .'

***

Soul Music - p149-150