Jaine Austen 2 - Last Writes by Laura Levine

responsive audience I’ve ever played to.”
    “Of course, they weren’t responsive. Do you really think people who come to a taping of Muffy ’n Me are Shakespeare fans?”
    Okay, so I didn’t really say that. What I said was: “Thanks for trying.”
    Kandi and I left Wells and Zach at the coffee machine and made our way out to the audience, where, to my horror, I saw the warm-up guy handing his microphone to Mr. Goldman. The nunnery was looking better every minute.
    “You think you’re so funny?” the warm-up guy said. “You take over.”
    “Okay, sonny. I will!”
    Mr. Goldman grabbed the mike and cleared his throat, a phlegmy affair that nauseated everyone. But before he could say anything, Audrey came marching onto the set, Stan huffing behind her. Kandi and I hurried over to join them.
    “Let’s get this show on the road,” Audrey said.
    “But I’m not finished,” Mr. Goldman protested, refusing to let go of the mike.
    Audrey looked over and saw Mr. Goldman in the section reserved for guests of the cast and crew.
    “Who invited that idiot?” she whispered, looking around accusingly.
    “That would be me,” I admitted. “He’s one of my students from the Shalom Retirement Home.”
    I smiled weakly, wondering if they’d let me bring my vibrator to the nunnery.
    Mr. Goldman cleared his throat again, sounding a lot like a clogged toilet.
    “Knock knock,” he said defiantly. “Who’s there? Fornication. Fornication who? Fornication like this, you should wear a black tie.”
    Believe it or not, he got a laugh. Probably the last I’d be hearing all night.

Chapter Ten

    I t turned out I was wrong about the laughs. After the first few apathetic minutes, the audience stopped coughing and started laughing.
    Cancel the nunnery. Call the movers. It looked like I’d be moving to Malibu after all.
    The first scene featured Wells as Mr. Watkins the nosy neighbor and Quinn as Uncle Biff. Mr. Watkins stops by, convinced that Muffy has turned his cat into an umbrella stand. The script called for Uncle Biff to offer Mr. Watkins a donut. Mr. Watkins refuses, and Uncle Biff eats it himself.
    That was what was supposed to happen.
    “Won’t you join me in a box of donuts?” Quinn was supposed to say, holding out the box.
    Then Wells was supposed to say, “I doubt there’s room in there for both of us.”
    Then the audience was supposed to laugh uproariously.
    None of which happened.
    Because when Quinn went to the kitchen counter for the donuts, he came back empty-handed.
    “Sorry,” he said, abandoning the script. “There aren’t any donuts.”
    “Props!” Audrey shouted, fuming. “Where the hell are the donuts?”
    We all looked around for Marco, the prop guy, but he was nowhere to be seen.
    Then Teri, the makeup lady, stepped forward, none too thrilled at the prospect of facing an angry Audrey.
    “Marco had to go to the hospital,” she stammered. “His wife was about to give birth. I was supposed to tell you, but I forgot. You see, I ran out of mascara, and I had to run over to the drugstore to get some, and I guess it just slipped my mind.”
    The poor woman was so scared, she was practically peeing in her pants.
    Audrey smiled wearily.
    “That’s okay, honey,” she said. “No problem.”
    Teri breathed a sigh of relief and skittered back to the makeup room.
    The minute she was gone, Audrey turned to Stan and hissed, “Fire her.”
    “Will somebody please go to the prop room and get the damn donuts?” the director shouted from the control booth.
    “I’ll go,” Kandi said.
    As she hurried off, Mr. Goldman called after her: “Bring one for me, too, sweetie! A person could die of starvation around here.”
    Which got another big laugh from the audience. Mr. Goldman grinned proudly. Maybe he was as funny as Seinfeld, after all.
    Minutes later, Kandi returned with the donuts.
    “Okay,” the director called out. “Let’s take it from the top.”
    So once again, Mr. Watkins showed up,