Rayne & Delilah's Midnite Matinee(12)
“Hey, Jack Divine’s going to be speaking at ShiverCon,” Delia says, reverence and awe in her voice.
“That name means nothing to me,” I say. “Hey, do you know if Lawson gave us back the outfit Tater was wearing?”
“Jack Divine was, like, a big horror host named Jack-O-Lantern in LA in the seventies. He directed and produced a bunch of low-budget horror movies, but he was best known as a producer and director for SkeleTonya’s show all through the eighties and early nineties, when she was on USA Network. You at least know SkeleTonya.”
“Goth Dolly Parton vibe?”
“That’s her. She’s a big deal at cons and stuff.”
“SkeleTonya is awesome,” Arliss says, brushing past us. “I watched her when I was a teenager.”
“Arliss, why have you never told us you’re capable of finding pleasure in things?” I ask.
“Don’t mistake my not finding pleasure in this show specifically with not finding pleasure in things generally.”
“It would be so cool to meet him,” Delia murmurs. “We should go. Try to talk to him. Give him one of our DVDs.”
“You two make a great team,” Arliss says. “Because you”—he points to Delia—“kinda suck at TV but know everything about every dumb horror movie and show. And you”—he points to me—“are pretty good at TV but seem to know jack about horror movies.”
He’s not wrong. That is exactly why Delia and I make a good team.
“I’m pretty sure Lawson accidentally walked out with our costume still on Tater,” I say.
“I’m fairly certain he did, but not accidentally,” Delia says.
“You don’t think he’s pulling some rom-com meet-cute shenanigans, do you?”
“You saw how he waved.”
“Oh, brother.”
“He was nice, at least. And entertaining on camera. Work your charms with him and get him back on the show. Maybe he can karate-chop some bricks or something.”
“Hey,” Arliss says, “I almost forgot. Josie, you need to record a quick sponsorship spot for Disc Depot.”
“Did they give you copy for me to read?”
“You’ve been inside Disc Depot. Take a wild guess whether they lovingly prepared you some excellent copy.”
“What should I say?”
“I love Disc Depot. I could do it,” Delia says.
“They requested Josie specifically. Look, you’re not accepting the Nobel Prize. You’re plugging a used CD, DVD, and video game store that smells like incense burned in a shoe, has walls covered in Bob Marley and Jim Morrison posters, and pays us seventy-five bucks to sponsor a public access show for nerds and weirdos.”
“I’m serious,” Delia says, eyes fixed on the flyer like it’s a holy tract. “We should go and try to meet Jack Divine. He might be able to take our show to the next level.”
“We’ll talk in the car,” I say.
I sit on set and wing the ad. It’ll mostly be my voice cut in with still photos of the inside of Disc Depot. I call them the best spot to buy pre-owned music, movies, and video games in all of west Tennessee. I don’t know this to be true or even believe it myself, but it’s probably fine.
???
Arliss grunts farewell as we leave the dim and cool of the studio into the dark and humid night.
“We had more DVD and T-shirt sales than last week. Between that and the new sponsorship money from Disc Depot, we had a pretty good week,” Delia says, opening my passenger door.
“What does ‘more DVD and T-shirt sales than last week’ mean?” I ask, helping Buford into the back seat.
“Like one more of each.”
We laugh.
“I thought the show went well,” Delia says. “Like we’re improving.”
I start my car and pull out. “From when we started? Worlds better.” Our first shows might generously be described as “fever dream–like.”
Delia holds up the ShiverCon flyer. “So that’s why I’m saying we should try to go to this and meet Jack Divine. We gotta put ourselves out there. What’s the saying? ‘Shoot for the moon because even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.’?”
“That’s not that inspirational, if you think about it. ‘Shoot for the moon because even if you miss, you’ll go drifting off into the black icy void of space, where you’ll die alone and no one can see your shame.’?”
“I like your version better.”
“When is ShiverCon?” I ask.
“Last weekend in May. After graduation.”
“I gotta check. I feel like I have something.”
“Check.”
“What would we do? Roll up to Jack Divine and be like, ‘Hey, come out of retirement or whatever and make us famous’?”
“Maybe a little slicker than that, but basically.”
“Doesn’t stuff like this happen through agents or managers or something?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who wants to go into TV professionally.”
“Pretty sure it does. Pretty sure it doesn’t happen from people working it at cons.”
Delia shrugs. “Maybe not. But we should try. Jack Divine is a big deal. We just got done marrying two dogs and talking to a puppet. We gonna embarrass ourselves?”