American Hero - George R. R. Martin Page 0,57

a lot of women have a thing for cats, and the fashion show turned into more of a burlesque.

If I were a better man, I would not have had Tiffani’s bras and panties give lap dances to Spaz, Joe Twitch, and King Cobalt, but I did some animation for Vice City. But it was Wild Fox and not me who put the illusory Tiffanies into the clothes. And that was when Cleopatra appeared and said, “All right, which one’s the real Tiffani?” and everyone started laughing.

Well, everyone except Reverend Wintergreen and a few of the girls.

On the third try, she found the right one, said, “She’s rooming with me,” then POP! They were gone. Andrew dropped the illusions and I sent the clothes to Cleo’s room.

I’m not certain what I’m going to do when all this is over. A million dollars would have been nice but I’m still pretty much set. My job’s there when I go back, though I don’t know if I still want to do programming. I mean, why program sprites when you can have phantom servants in real life? Or maybe I’ll go back to school, learn all the things that might be useful for better servants. Cooking. Cleaning. Hotel management.

I’ve been hanging a bit with Howie in the garage, but I doubt I’ve picked up anything useful. I don’t think they sell phlogiston at Pep Boys. But Jerusha’s shown me something about old-fashioned gardening. She mostly keeps to herself in the yard, and she’s a vegetarian so she hasn’t been much for the barbecues, but she’s made it so we have fresh orange juice and tomatoes and all the produce my servants can pick while they wave palm fronds and feed her grapes and basically give her the spa treatment she’d feel guilty about if they were real people.

We were talking, and she was telling me that my ace was a little like hers. If I want to, I can make things. I mean, with my game background, I’ve got servants that can wave swords and machine guns, but there’s more to servants than bodyguards, bartenders, and strippers.

Jeeves, another julep.

Of course, I’ve had a chance to learn something from everyone. Tiffani taught me about being manipulative. You see, only one person is allowed in the confessional at a time, and with me here right now, that means she has to stay out there and face the music. And the awkward silence. I’ve taken her favorite hiding place, and the Discard Pile doesn’t have enough bathrooms, especially for a party with an open bar.

Jeeves, another julep and make this one a double. I want to savor it.

As for American Hero, the winner’s going to be Dragon Huntress, hands down. They’ve hamstrung Rachel by limiting her to three toys, but even that’s not stopping her. I was pretty sure before, but after watching this week’s challenge? I mean, seeing Cthulhu rescue people from the top of a Ferris wheel? Not only is it box office, it’s amazing.

I want to code the Xbox version, and Spasm says as soon as I do, he’ll play it.

Ah, yes, Jeeves. Thank you. This is perfect.

[KNOCK KNOCK]

No, don’t get the door. Let me just savor this for a while.

Like I said, I make a mean julep . . .

Confessional: Buford Calhoun aka Toad Man

I guess ever’body knows I got voted off the Clubs a while back. We went up against that German fella, Long Grin, I think his name is. Couldn’t none of us do much against him, what with that glowing white armor and sword and all. Even if it weren’t a real sword, just one made out of foam so it wouldn’t hurt nobody. Some of the bunch got mad ’cause they thought he was goin’ easy on us. But if that’s so, how much worse would we of lost if he actual tried?

After that they let me go. I felt real bad, like I’d let Uncle Rayford and all the folks back home down. Then I told myself, Buford, you done your best. That’s all a man can do, and that’s what Uncle Rayford always taught you to do. So after a couple days I could hold my head up again. I just reckon I got a lot to learn about this here being an ace thing.

Since then they’ve kept us Discards hanging around without much to do. Some of the folks in the Trash Heap—that’s what the people in here really call it, not the Discard Pile—some of