These characters are the property of Anne Rice. This was written for fun and
under the heavy influence of caffeine. All characters are copyright Anne Rice,
Knopf, Kith&Kin, etc. This is not for profit, and is only meant to be slightly
entertaining or give someone a reason to flame me.
Auditions
By Vic Centanni
MonDieu66@aol.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lestat De Lioncourt sat at the long table set up in front of the stage. Back
stage, he could hear the voices of nervous applicants. And a mysterious noise
that sounded like Daniel giggling and a door slamming. Nearly at the end of his
rope after two hours of painstaking auditions, he was ready to call it quits.
Louis placed a hand on his shoulder and stood behind him.
"It's hopeless. I'll never find another villain worthy of the Vampire
Chronicles," Lestat sighed.
"Well, your standards are high, Lestat. I'm still not really sure how Memnoch
ever slipped through," Louis said.
Lestat gave him an angry look. "My standards aren't that high. These people are
all insane." He picked up a paper and called, "Next." Louis sat down at the
table.
A red-haired man dressed in a brown trechcoat appeared on the stage.
"Please state your name, and what makes you qualified," Lestat said calmly.
The applicant stood tall and said, in a gruff voice, using lots of melodramatic
gestures, "I am the toenail fungus that never stops itching, I am the scum all
over your shoe. I am the odor that just won't disappear. I am Foot Man, the worst
creature in all the universe!"
"The worst at acting, anyhow," Louis mumbled under his breath.
"Very...dramatic, um, next!" Lestat called.
"Wait!" Foot Man cried. "I've got everything you look for in a villain."
Lestat looked at Louis and said quietly, "Where did you find these people?! An
institute?" Lestat looked back up at Foot Man who was hunched over, desperately
trying to tie his shoe.
"I did what you asked and put up flyers."
"Oh, so *now* you start listening to me." Lestat sighed and turned back to the
stage. "What can you contribute to the plot line?" he asked.
"Want to see 'plot'? I've got lots of plot!" Foot Man tore open his trenchcoat,
revealing his own personal 'plot'. Horrified, Lestat looked away.
"Oh great, not only can none of the applicants act, but now they're trying to
steal the spotlight and turn to the chronicles into some sort of sick
pornography," Lestat said angrily.
Jesse coughed politely at his right and cleared her throat. Lestat glared at her.
"Mon Dieu!" Louis cried. "Please, for god's sake, put that coat back on."
Armand, dressed in bouncer garb, came out and pulled Foot Man off the stage after
he buttoned up his coat. "He's gone, Lestat," Armand yelled from backstage.
"DANIEL! ARMAND!" Lestat called. Both came running out onto the stage. "You
promised to *screen* these people! What's with coat man? That's the fourth person
who's flashed me in the last hour. Weren't you paying attention to them?"
Daniel and Armand looked at each other. "We, um, were, uh, sort of...
preoccupied, Lestat. I apologize," Armand stammered.
"Yeah, and the lock on the broom closet is broken. We finally broke the door
down," Daniel blabbed. "Um, I mean, uh, we had to find a—uh...a broom." Armand
looked away and cupped his hand over Daniel's mouth.
Lestat slapped his forehead. "I should have known I couldn't trust you two alone
back there in the dark. Daniel, get down here. Louis, could you help Armand?"
Armand gave a mischievous smile. "And I want you two working back there, do you
hear me!" Lestat called after them as the two disappeared behind the stage.
"We'll never get another chronicle if we don't have an adequate villain!"
"At least I already I have my book," Armand muttered as he and Lous disappeared
back stage.
"Next!" Daniel cried out.
A meek-looking brown-haired woman appeared on stage. She was small and thin.
"And what's your name?" Lestat asked.
The girl didn't speak. She stared right at Lestat and didn't say a word.
"Pardon me, Ma Cherie, but we need a name before we proceed," Lestat urged.
"I am Batman!" the girl yelled. She ran to the front of the stage. She stopped
and twitched. "Quack, quack." She moved, then stopped again. "I'm a little
tea-pot, short and stout—"
"Really? Well, that's terrific. First Foot Man, and now this. LOUIS!" Lestat
called.
Louis and Armand came and took the meek little woman away. Lestat hit his head on
the table. "This is utterly ridiculous."
"I have an idea," Jesse said suddenly. "Why don't we just make up a villain?
After all, you're writing it. Why do you need a real villain?"
"You should know better than to question a silly spec, Jesse," Daniel told her.
"After all, the writers who make these scenarios up are crazy."
(A cough is heard from the Spec writer.)
Lestat answered anyhow. "For your information, a villain is the key component to
a good novel. The more realistic, the better."
"And Lestat was never on the creative side," Daniel chimed in.
"At any rate, unless you want new characters like Vittorio to keep popping up, I
suggest we get to work," Lestat said, and then he reluctantly called out, "Next!"
Before the next contestant even came out from backstage, the stench came. It was
putrid and disgusting. A man in a makeshift cape and Superman-style costume.
Plugging their noses in an attempt to keep the rotten smell from their
preternatural noses, the vampires stared at the stage. "I hope this is short,"
Jesse managed to say.
"What's your name?" asked Lestat, in a muffled voice.
"I am Rotten Eggs and Meats Man!" cried the costumed wonder on stage. "I protect
rotten foods of the world. Often times, I got to extreme lengths to steal them."
"You mean people don't just give them away?" Daniel asked, holding his nose.
"Well—actually, I never thought to ask," said the man. "But my costume is made of
rotten meat and cotton fibers."
"No prize for guess where that stench is coming from," Lestat said. "Thank you
very much, Mr. Rotten Eggs and... Meats man. We'll call you. ARMAND!"
Armand came rushing out and then staggered backward. "GOOD GOD! What the
Hell...?" He plugged his nose.
"Just get rid of him!" cried Jesse. Armand dragged the man off with one hand,
keeping the other on his nose.
"All right. This is getting quite frustrating."
Backstage, Louis cried, "Mon Dieu! What is the smell?!"
"I'll take one more audition," said Lestat, ignoring the screams from backstage.
"After that, I'm giving up. Well, for today. Although, I think we'd have an
easier time finding a villian if we walked the streets of San Franciso waving $20
bills in the air." He paused and considered the idea for a second. "I wonder if—"
He was cut off by Jesse's scream, "NEXT!"
On stage sauntered a young woman with curly black hair, wearing a robe. "I am
Janice Flier." She had a deep voice, but she didn't seem too crazy.
"Proceed, Madame Flier," Lestat said, watching her intently. She reached for her
robe to take it off, and the three looked away in fear of yet another flashing.
When they turned back, she (?) was standing there, perfectly still, in a speedo
and bra, with thigh-high vinyl stockings.
Not sure what to say, Lestat gawked. Her legs were hairy and thick, and Jesse and
Daniel looked horrified. With one look at the speedo, Lestat concluding that she
was in fact a he.
Out of nowhere, music began playing. And he began to sing. "I'm just a sweet
transvestite..." He sang the song, moving its hips in suggestive ways, and not
doing Tim Curry an once of justice.
After a moment through the song, Lestat cried, "ARMAND! Get it off!" Jesse
giggled and Lestat glared at her. All the while, the contestant kept performing.
"I meant get it off the stage!! Hurry!"
Armand came out and dragged the transvestite off of the stage. The man started to
cry, but Armand comforted him as he escorted him out.
"Well, this has been interesting," Daniel said.
"Remind me never to hold auditions like this again. I'm going to San Francisco,"
Lestat declared. "LOUIS!" He walked away.
"I still think he should just make up a villian. I really don't understand these
silly specs. None of them make sense."
THE END (
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