Thread: The Road To Fame (Sumi & Mr Quixotic)

The Middle Of Nowhere was Duane 'Duke' Reynolds ultimate destination and it had taken him two months cross-country to arrive. Wanted by Police on the East Coast for Bank Robbery, plus by two ex-girlfriends for misdemeanours best left unmentioned, the twenty-eight year thief and con-man had decided to escape, and lay low for a while. Damn Elmer had fired a shot on the last job, and it had sent everything to hell. Duke had been the getaway driver, and as a man who'd prefer to charm people out of their money - or ladies out of their panties - rather than one who condoned the use of violence unless necessary, the moment he'd recognised the sound of gunfire, he'd stamped his foot on the gas, forgot about his chunk of the takings, and got the hell out of Dodge. He briefly called into the apartment he shared with his current flame, kissed her on the cheek, said he'd be back in a day or two, then collected every possession he owned, kissed her again, hopped into the battered Buick, and didn't stop driving until he'd crossed the State line. Whether Elmer had talked, and Duke's name and face really did adorn the Post Office Wanted posters, and authorities were on his tail, he couldn't be certain, but in twenty years of thieving and scamming, it was the first occasion on which Duke had even come close to being apprehended, and it had put the frightener's through him. Why the fuck had he agreed to a bank-job? Better safe than sorry, he concluded the bankroll he'd built up was large enough for him to maintain the good life for the foreseeable future, and it was time to go on the straight and narrow. That vow to remain on the straight and narrow lasted less than an hour after crossing into Pennsylvania, where he pulled into the Roadside Diner driving the battered grey Buick, and exited behind the wheel of a late model, white 1955 Ford Thunderbird. One which was no longer white, but a dusty brown, covered in tumbleweeds, dirt and dust, with dead bugs smearing the windscreen when, seven weeks later, he entered the town of Reddell. A town that Duane found wasn't even on the map after he came to a stop between a sign advertising 'The Reddell Hotel' on one side of the road, and a second offering 'Board and Lodging' on the other. Perfect. If this wasn't the Middle of Nowhere, it was within spitting distance of it. Duane stepped from the vehicle, and groaned and stretched his legs as he collected a suitcase from the trunk. With the sun having set, the day had cooled, but his throat was still parched and he licked his lips in anticipation of a cold beer. Nightly performances by World famous stars. Duke chuckled at the sign placed outside the hotel probably some failed Vegas performer playing the piano....badly then turned his attention to the Boarding House. Thirty minutes after being greeted by the geriatric, wheelchair bound and toothless hostess, and having paid for a week's lodging in advance after discovering that he was the only guest - not exactly a surprise - Duane had showered the dust of his six foot tall, slim and athletic frame, run a comb through short, curly brown hair, shaved the stubble off his face, and appraised the accommodations with bright green eyes. Better than it had appeared from the outside the room was small, but nicely furnished, with a double-bed, oak dressermirror combination, a writing desk, and attached bathroom. According to the owner, there was also a telephone downstairs, he was free to make use of. Not that Duane planned talking to anyone. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What's the matter, never seen a suit? Duke raised a brow at the men who stared at him as he entered the Reddell Hotel, dressed in a charcoal and dark gray pinstripe number, accompanied with a black pork-pie hat, and polished wing-tips. He held one man's gaze until the stranger averted his eyes, followed by the others around him. Men, all attired in filthy jeans and checkered shirts, or grease-stained bibs and overalls, wearing dirty beards, bedraggled hair, and the look of farmers, truck-drivers, or those who worked with their hands for a living. No women in this Hotel. Whatever the response, if any, went unheard, as Duane turned to the bar, threw a ten dollar bill on the counter, ordered a beer, and naturally assumed that the appearance of a stranger, especially a well-dressed stranger, was the reason behind the sudden air of increased excitement. Until You've been a bad, bad boy I'm gonna take my time, so enjoy There's no need to feel no shame Relax and sip upon my champagne 'Cause I wanna give you a little taste Of the sugar below my waist, you nasty boy The amber fluid spilt over the edge of his glass, as Duane's head shot around and his eyes alighted on the stage. Duke almost fell over, and it wasn't from the risque lyrics, but from the woman whose lips they'd come from. She may not have been a world famous performer at least not one that Duane Reynolds recognised but she also definitely wasn't some ugly old woman. The man's gaze appraised the singer's attractive features, then ran down her body to take in the red dress, and what lay under it. His lips curled up into a smile at the realisation that this town was quickly turning out to be much more interesting than he'd imagined. The thief ignored the catcalls and whistles emitted by the crowd of males, and screams for him to get out of the fucking way, as he stepped away from the bar, and approached a table closer to the stage. Duke lifted his beverage to his mouth, took a long gulp, then sat down to appreciate the singer's assets. Nice cleavage was the first thought that popped into his mind. That her necklace could be worth a pretty penny was his second. The man allowed his gaze to linger on her body for a few seconds before he shifted his focus to the performer's face, tipped his hat, and shot her his most charming smile. Duane Reynolds wouldn't knock back the opportunity for a little taste of sugar if it were on offer. OOC Love the song. Totally appropriate for our 'cliche' scene. Now imagine if that really had been sung in the 1950's, XD