The Wedding
Rehearsal from HellThe Continuing Adventures of Ineeda Willingbottom
By G. Jak Klinikowski
“Listen-up Miss VaVoom,” growled Ineeda. “You may be a hot commodity on the club circuit, but here at the Cha Cha Palace, I’m in charge and don’t you forget it. Hortence and I will play the brides in tonight’s Grand Finale and if you don’t like it, you can get the hell out!”
Jesus! Ineeda hated it when the chorus got uppity. She had little patience for stuck-up, fake-tittied transsexuals trying to horn in on her authority. Putting on a benefit for same-sex marriage was hard enough without having to deal with mutiny in the ranks and, Veronica VaVoom, with her 38 double-D’s, was the absolute worst.
Ineeda was a Drag Queen and professional entertainer. It was all about the illusion for her. At the end of the day, when the bedroom door was closed, and the lights went out, she was still a man. Veronica, on the other hand, was stuck somewhere in between, just another obnoxious chick with a dick.
“The nerve of that transy-hooker,” said Hortence, as she walked up to Ineeda. “I ought to kick her silicone injected butt back out on the street where it belongs. I’ll knock her ass so high, that it’ll look like she has new cheek implants.” Hortence giggled at her own play on words.
“Thanks, girlfriend,” said Ineeda. “That’s mighty sweet of you, but you just get the girls ready for one more run-thru. I’ll take care of Miss Veronica VaVoom.”
Since early in the morning, when rehearsal began, Veronica had done her damndest to disrupt the proceedings. Conniving to steal the lead in the show’s closing production number was the last straw. It was now the middle of the afternoon and Ineeda was ready to tear Veronica a new one.
“Terry.” yelled Ineeda to her cowboy in the balcony manning the spotlight. “Please shut that thing off and go grab us a couple of cold waters. I’m parched. I need to have a private word with Veronica.” Ineeda returned her attention to the stage.
“Take ten, everybody. Miss VaVoom, will you please join me in the quiet bar for a little chat?” The six-foot seven Amazon followed Ineeda to the front of the club. Ineeda pushed open the door to the glass-enclosed, soundproofed bar allowing Veronica to enter first.
“If you give me any more crap, Veronica, I’ll…” Ineeda abruptly stopped, her mouth hanging wide-open.
“Well,” huffed Veronica, “I was only thinking of ways to improve the show,” but Ineeda didn’t hear a word she said. Standing at the long bar, staring at her with his aqua-blue eyes, and crooked smile, was Ronnie, the run-away stripper who, so recently, fractured Ineeda’s heart.
“Oh my God, where the hell did you come from?” gasped Ineeda.
“Surprise.” said Ronnie. “I got off the bus from Vegas at two o’clock this morning. I ran into Veronica working outside the station, and she told me y’all would be rehearsing this afternoon for a benefit tonight. I wanted to see you right away, and I needed to ask Wilbur if I could have my spot back in the Thursday strip show, so I decided to kill a couple of crows with one shot if you know what I mean. I’ve really missed you, baby.”
Before a flabbergasted Ineeda could stop him, Ronnie grabbed her tightly in his arms and planted a big wet kiss on her lips shoving his tongue so far down Ineeda’s throat she could feel it with her toe-nails.
At that moment, Terry backed in to the quiet bar pushing the door open with his strong butt. He held several open bottles in his hands.
“Here’re those waters you asked for Ineeda.” Terry turned and his eyes shot open like a twelve-year-old’s at his first hernia exam. The bottles crashed to the floor. “What the hell …I’m out of here!”
Terry, wait. Come back.” shouted Ineeda. It was already too late. Terry was out the door.
“What was that all about?” said Ronnie.
“Yes Ineeda, what WAS that all about?” asked Veronica, a huge Cheshire cat grin plastered across her face. “Is there trouble in paradise? Maybe you should let me take over the finale from you after all. It seems you have more than enough meat on your plate at the moment. I don’t think you could possibly concentrate on something as silly as a drag number now.”
“You vicious, good-for-nothing slut,” raged Ineeda “I’ll give you exactly two seconds to get your skinny, ugly ass out of my sight, you back-stabbing street hooker. You’re fired! Get out before I grab you by your scrawny throat and throw you out!”
Veronica wisely didn’t say another word. She circled widely around Ineeda, making her way to the exit of the small front bar. Veronica kept her eyes glued to the barely in-control show director, making sure Ineeda didn’t attack her. Veronica’s stiletto heeled boots clickety-clacked wildly on the tiled hallway, as she bolted from the Cha Cha Palace.
“Shit, Ineeda, I knew you were a tough cookie,” said Ronnie. “You even scared me. I’m beginning to think you’re not very happy to see me.” He once again placed his arm around the fuming queen.
Ineeda grabbed Ronnie’s wrist and threw his arm off of her.
“Why you sleazy piece of used-up tube steak, I’ve never been less happy to see someone in my life. Where do you get off thinking you can waltz out on me and then waltz right back? Did you honestly expect me to welcome you with open arms? Why didn’t you stay in Vegas and pursue your career as a dick-dancer?”
“Everybody’s a stripper in Vegas Ineeda, nobody would hire me. I figured you’d be glad to have me back.”
“Well you figured wrong, and now you’ve ruined everything!”
“What? You mean that jerk with the water? Shoot baby, I’ll make you forget about him in a heartbeat.” Ronnie cupped his package with one hand and tried, once again, to grab Ineeda with the other.
“Don’t you baby me, you, bastard! If you touch me one more time, I’ll kick you so hard you’ll think your cock is your tonsils. That jerk, as you called him, happens to be the sweetest, sexiest, most considerate guy I’ve ever known. You may have given my crotch a thrill Ronnie, but Terry gives my heart a damn hard-on. I love him, and now he’ll probably never speak to me again. Get the hell out of here. I never want to see you again.”
Ronnie raised his hands in submission, and backed off a few steps, slowly shaking his head back and forth. He made his way to the door.
“Okay, Ineeda, if that’s the way you want it, just don’t come looking for me when you need a little private dancing.”
“Just go,” said Ineeda.
After Ronnie left the quiet bar, Ineeda took a few moments to compose herself. She still had a show to put on tonight, and she needed to get this rehearsal from hell over with. There was no time for an emotional “scene.” She would simply have to track Terry down later, and explain. Right now, she had to finish setting up the finale.
Ineeda returned to the stage area, doing her best not to show how upset she was. Hortence rushed over to her before she could say a word.
“Sweetie, you might want to turn off your body-mike.”
“Oh crap,” groaned Ineeda.
“OH CRAP,” boomed the stage speakers. Ineeda turned off the mike.
“Yep, we heard it all.” Hortence made a sweeping gesture indicating all the performers, each one purposely avoiding Ineeda’s gaze. “I know I should have rushed in there the minute I realized, but it was just too good to interrupt. Miss Thing, you’re better than “All My Children” and “One Life to Live” combined.”
“And Terry?”
“He heard every word. He rushed out the back door right after you said you loved him.”
“Oh no,” whispered Ineeda. “That must have totally flipped him out. Now I’m sure I’ll never see him again.”
“I’m sorry doll,” consoled Hortence. “What do you want to do?”
“What can I do? I’ve got a benefit to put on. I can’t run out on it now. I’ll be okay. I just have to concentrate on what I’m doing. Ethel Merman was right, the show must go on.” Ineeda switched her microphone back on.
“Okay girls, pay attention. All you queens line up and form an aisle from the audience to the stage. I will walk down the aisle in my wedding dress and stop in front of Father Frank, who will be waiting to perform the ceremony. When I reach the stage, Hortence will join me from her hiding place, stage right. She too will be dressed as a bride. The music will stop, and Father Frank will perform the mock wedding. The crowd ought to love it. Now, everybody got that? Good, let’s run through it.”
Everyone took their places, and the DJ began playing the traditional wedding march. No one acted like they noticed; at least they didn’t comment on the tears trickling down Ineeda’s face.
*
The Cha
Cha Palace was packed with fashion-slaves, political activists, and
queens, all pushing and jostling for the best views of the stage.
It was show-time, and the audience was in a frenzy of
anticipation. The house lights dimmed and the spot came up on
Ineeda doing her rousing version of Bette Midler’s “Going to the
Chapel.” Nobody had the slightest idea how badly her heart was
breaking. The song came to an enthusiastic conclusion, and Ineeda
switched on her microphone to address the crowd.“Welcome to my wedding party everyone. I’m so very glad y’all could make it. It’s thrilling to see so many of you here for tonight’s “nuptials” so to speak. We’ve got one heck of a great line-up for you this evening, and I hope each and every one of you will dig deep into your pockets, or purses, whichever the case may be and donate every cent you can spare to this worthwhile cause. Our community is admittedly eccentric, and at times frightfully overdressed, but we are human beings first and foremost and we deserve all the same rights as any old right-wing republican bible-thumper. It’s time for the gay community to be treated equally, but we’re going to have to fight to see to it that we are, and that fight’s going to take cash, and lots of it. As you watch these entertainers working their tits off tonight remember, every tip you give is one more buck for the cause. Thanks y’all, and enjoy the show. Now, put your hands together for our very own, Hortence.”
Ineeda exited to the dressing room situated just off stage left, and Hortence exploded on to the stage. Ineeda did her level best to keep her mind on the benefit.
Ineeda set up the show so that Father Frank could MC the bulk of it. After all, the benefit was for his organization. Ineeda would look after the dressing room and make sure all the performers were ready when their time came. She couldn’t handle much “public facing” tonight.
Hortence rushed into the dressing room, flushed from her on-stage success.
“Would you look at all these tips, I swear if we keep this up we’ll make enough money to get Father Frank’s action committee off the ground and buy a few new gowns to boot! I’m kidding!” Ineeda gave her friend a half-hearted smile.
“That’s nice Hortence, but you better change and get over to your hiding place on the other side of the stage. I’ll help you with the buttons on the back of your dress.”
The show progressed as scheduled, and before Ineeda had a chance to get too depressed, it was time for the “Grand Finale.” A single spotlight illuminated Father Frank, standing center stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, what would a same-sex marriage benefit be without a Royal Wedding? Please welcome the Queen of the Cha Cha Palace, as she takes her stroll down the aisle. I give you, Ineeda Willingbottom!”
As the
crowd screamed its approval, the wedding march began, and
Ineeda, bouquet in hand, slowly made her way towards Father Frank,
waving and blowing kisses to the audience, doing her best to keep it
light and entertaining. When she reached the Minister, Ineeda
turned waiting for Hortence to join her, but Hortence never came out.Instead, Ineeda was shocked to see Terry, wearing a tuxedo and matching black Stetson, walking towards her. Terry took off his hat and handed it to Father Frank, taking the cordless-mike from him.
“Ineeda Willingbottom, I mean, Jake Winkowski…”
Ineeda gasped, and the audience roared with laughter.
“Sorry, Father Frank told me your boy name.” Terry sank to one knee, holding Ineeda’s hand with his left and extending a rather large-stoned ring with his right. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I love you like crazy. Will you marry me?”
Ineeda blinked rapidly, trying desperately to contain the surge of tears that was bound to ruin her mascara. She handed her bouquet to Father Frank, and lightly stroked Terry’s cheek.
“Yes, Cowboy, I will!”