NEW ONE FOR THE PLAYLIST, ALIENS!

HERE WE GO ALIENS! ENJOY OUR NEW SHORT FILM / MUSIC VIDEO!

NEW SONG ON ITS WAY! STAY TUNED!

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 76

At the bank the largely built female owl sat in her managerial office, speaking on the phone.
   "I understand. Yes, I will see to it immediately. Good day." She ended the conversation and clicked up her keyboard. She went on with a mutter, "Actually, I don't understand. Oh well. There must be a reason. Good or not is not mine to know or judge."
   Not far away the Blonde Plutoz were sifting through articles of clothing in the racks of a phenomenal fashion store. This place has its own style, they agreed. And a lot of it is just too cool to walk away from.
   Old music drifted through the air, very Vague-Assy with lots of brass and strings and corny words. Whether it inspired shopping so much as lend historical atmosphere Rivqua couldn't really tell. Still, it made a change from having your system pummeled by relentless electronica.
   The clash though, was unavoidable. Zana held up a modern garment for her sister's approval. A leather jacket that featured solar panels, network connection, heat absorbing lining and good old shoulder pads. It was the colour and metal details that made it stand out. Diodes all along the main seams and the small upper-arm video screens helped.
   "I love that!" said Rivqua. Zana thought she would and added it to the pile over her arm and threw another one over. "Here's yours."
   "Well, this ought to do it, don't you think?" Rivqua said after going through her collection a final time. Zana looked around with a nod. Her arm ached.
   The girl at the checkout was just a really pretty synthetic head suspended from the ceiling, along with telescopic arms doing the detagging and folding and sliding effortlessly into bags. The lovely head ran up the sum and smiled with teeth that stung the eyes.
   "Wouldn't call it a steal, but okay," Zana said and ran her card over the reader. A red light came on.
   "What?"
   "Sorry. Your card isn't valid. Would you like to join our members' club? It's free." In Toss Vague-Ass everybody just smiles, the robots more so than others.
   "What do you mean, not valid? We were just handed these! From the manager of the Grand Galactica. The big shiny place just down the road."
   "Let me try again, Miss." The beautiful eyes went to the reader, like a gesture for the benefit of the customer. Zana ran the card once more. "No. I'm sorry. The card is not valid. It doesn't exist in any system on the planet. Do you have any other card?"
   A phone rang. Rivqua grabbed around for hers. "Hello!"
   The voice on the other end was again familiar. "Listen, I'm glad I caught you. Where are you?"
   "We're shopping. Or trying to. What can we do for you, Inspector?"
   "This time it's Luffy Bing."
   "What do you mean?"
   "What do you mean, what do I mean? He's dead! Stay where you are, I'll come pick you up. You're needed down at the morgue for an ID. You were the last to see him. Funny, this habit you two have."

New Song "Not That Into You" Goes Video on Nov 14 Shoot!

 

Wrapping up a long and productive day on a grey November weekend in the Arena Satelliten venue in Sollentuna, Stockholm. Great thanks to our excellent crew and cast! It's in the can, folks! Watch this space!

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 75

Back in their hotel room, Rivqua and Zana gave Sir Morris a quick call to let him know the good news and halt any legal action he might be contemplating. He sounded relieved, and also expressed a degree of bafflement at the turn of events.
   "I'll pester my contacts once more and push for good write-ups in the papers, make sure the audience keeps coming. Who knows, eight weeks might turn into twelve. Then we'll be into the holidays. Imagine the fruits of playing high-season at the Toss Vague-Ass Grand."
   The girls could almost hear their manager rubbing his paws.
   "We might be sick of Toss Vague-Ass by then," said Zana. "Some other relatively important figure might have died in that time."
   Up in the penthouse floor, the secretary bot had entered the office of her late boss and stood facing Luffy Bing.
   "Yes?" he said, not looking up.
   "I'm curious, sir. Where this 'brother' of Mister Fadda Bing comes from."
   He jotted on documents, working through the piles. "Are you referring to me?"
   "Correct. I never heard of you, and I was under the impression I knew quite a lot about Fadda Bing, being his secretary. However, about you I knew nothing."
   "Oh I am Fadda's brother alright. But he never talked about me, I'm aware of that. Black sheep of the family you see. Which is funny, because for all Fadda's success and position he didn't run this place very well, did he?"
   "What do you mean, sir?"
   "We've got overdue bills from suppliers and contractors all over the place! Several creditors are now threatening to sue! No, Miss - I forget your name, sorry - this all changes now. I'm truly sorry about Fadda, but perhaps it's for the best, for the Grand Galactica I mean. Because as of today, I am in charge, and things will change. I'm going to turn this sinking ship around before it's too late. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
   He got back into the paperwork.
   "You're in charge," said the robot thoughtfully, eyeing him. "As of this day."
   "Get me some more coffee, will you dear? And make it stronger this time."
   The secretary didn't move. He looked up at her and gestured. "Well?"
   "That is where you are mistaken, Mister Luffy Bing," said the bot with cold calm. Then she raised her hand toward him and fired a gun. Luffy Bing jolted in his big chair and a spray of green blood splattered across the wall behind him. His drilled head hit the desk like an oversized paperweight.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 74

The Blonde Plutoz entered the office of the chairman, president, CEO, head honcho, top brass knob of the Grand Galactica hotel. The office looked exactly the same as it had done the day of the murder of Fadda Bing. A wrap-around of rich wood paneling and tall windows that overlooked the entire city, splashes of green leather, acres of crimson rug and a massive desk.
   Except the dead body behind the desk was now replaced with a living one in a fine suit, looking painfully busy and oozing out power and charisma.
   "Glad to see you," he said without looking up. "Be brief will you."
   Rivqua cleared her throat. "We're the Blonde Plutoz, your artist in residence in the ballroom."
   "Like I said, glad to see you," he repeated, eyes still down, scanning documents and crossing things out, making swift notes in margins. "Anything else?"
   "We were here when Mister Fadda Bing breathed his last."
   "Can't have been very pleasant."
   "Quite a dramatic welcome to the Grand."
   "A memorable incident to include in our memoirs," said Zana.
   The big alien looked up at the girls and sighed, like his time was being wasted.
   "I'm Fadda's brother, Luffy Bing. Pleased to meet you. You're doing well downstairs I hear. Good. Keep it up." He went back to the paperwork.
   "We had no idea he had any kin. Nor did the police."
   "Well, surprise, surprise. Look, I'm sorry about my brother's passing. But what's happened has happened and now I'm here and we're going to get things on a roll. You're doing so well and all shows for the next fortnight are sold out so, as a token of our appreciation, how about a ten percent raise starting tonight?"
   He said all this without looking up. Rivqua and Zana stared at him, speechless.
   "I'll take that as a yes. By the way, what's-her-name out there has your new cards, all loaded up. Go out and enjoy yourselves."
   Outside, the secretary bot listened in at the door. She hurried back to her desk as the Blonde Plutoz emerged, looking stunned. They closed the door behind them and just stood there for a second.
   The robot approached them with a smile and held out two envelopes. "Your patience has been rewarded."
   The girls took them and moved slowly to the elevator. The secretary clasped her hands in satisfaction and watched them walk away, then turned towards the big dark door again. Her face had a strange look of doubt about it. A cold, confident kind of doubt. Like a huge lump of ice considering a tiny matchstick.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 73

   "You're not going to believe this, Inspector," said Zana, phone to her ear. The girls had hurried up to their room after the show and the unsettling sight of Fadda Bing, alive and well, sitting in the audience. The first thing to do was call the police. The police had verified his death, after all. Along with the coroner who, one would assume, had properly documented the facts of the matter, put a toe tag on Fadda Bing to quell any further doubts and placed his stiff carcass in the city morgue.
   "Alive and well, eh?" the detective said. "Whaddaya know. This is why the papers need to be absolutely sure, you see? They're dead one day, back the next, these people. That's Toss Vague-Ass for you." He stifled a yawn.
   Zana said, "Well don't you find it the least bit strange?"
   "It's downright unorthodox," Rivqua threw in. She was resting on the bed, arm over her eyes.
   "Did you hear what my sister said? Unorthodox. That's how weird this is."
   "I've seen unorthodoxier," replied the detective.
   "Not sure I have."
   "What can I say? Welcome to-"
   "To Toss Vague-Ass. Yeah, we know."
   After breakfast the following morning Zana and Rivqua headed straight up to the penthouse offices to see the secretary bot. She was a robot but her programming included considerable mimickery of the emotions of carbon-based beings. So, just to be sure no circuits or fuses were blown upon hearing the extraordinary news, the girls had rehearsed a speech. To let her in on it easy. Fadda Bing was her boss and she was clearly attached to him, and had served him well for who knows how long. There was no doubt the news would come as a shock.
   The secretary robot stood up behind her desk after the Blonde Plutoz had spoken. The girls were ready for her head to fall off.
   "Yes I know," she said calmly. "But it's not Mister Bing. That is, Mister Fadda Bing."
   "What?" The girls stared at her. "Who on earth is it then? A robot replica?"
   A laugh of some kind came out of the bot.
   "Alas no. It's his brother."
   "His brother!?"
   "Quite so. And he's in." She gestured toward the heavy door behind them, then pressed a button. "The Blonde Plutoz are here to see you, sir."
   "Send 'em in!" a gruff voice barked. "I got sixty seconds!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 72

Fadda Bing was dead. Rivqua and Zana has seen it for themselves, in full colour, practically smelled it, up there in the penthouse office when they arrived. Even the detective inspector has seen it and confirmed it, with both his heads. Heck, he'd even interrogated the girls about it. And Mister Bing's secretary, the old-lady-like robot had certainly registered it.
   Yet, there he jolly well sat now, Fadda Bing, at the round table close to the stage, looking alive and well among the other Vague-Ass business hotshots enjoying a night out.
   The Blonde Plutoz got through the show in focused fashion, including a two-song encore and finally disappeared down the floor the same way they appeared, leaving the ecstatic crowds to return to earth under the pale, sobering house lights.
   "I can't believe it!" Zana cried. "Was it really him?"
   "There's only one way to find out, come on!" said Rivqua as they jumped off the still descending platform. Mister Wizzbipp wondered what was going on as he watched them hurry off, his hands on the controls.
   The girls ran up the stairs and entered the ballroom from a side door. The crowds were dispersing in no real hurry, chatting and grabbing their furs, downing the last of their drinks. Some headed over to the casino to complete the evening. The group of businessmen were on their feet, talking, laughing away, wiping foreheads. There seemed to be more of them now.
   "Excuse me!" Rivqua said, coming up. "Gentlemen!"
   The suits turned and stared at the evening's entertainment approaching in person.
   "Hey!" one cried and reached for a pen and something to write on. "This is what I call customer service! We gotta tell you, you guys were great! Would you please?"
   "Thanks," said Rivqua, jotting down her autograph, "We couldn't help noticing a familiar face at this table."
   "Really?" the guy said with a grin at the others, hoping she meant him.
   "I can't see him now," Zana said, scanning the nearby crowd.
   The guy frowned. "See who?"
   Rivqua handed the pen and paper over. "Mister Bing. That was Mister Bing, right? Sitting with you guys?"
   "Sure was. Guess he was sitting down because he's not much of a dancer."
   The others laughed with him. One of them explained, "He had to leave quickly, sorry."
   "Anything we can help you with?" asked the first.
   Rivqua and Zana stared at one another. This was making no sense at all.

ONE FOR THE PLAYLIST, ALIENS!

Blonde Plutoz is on Spotify. Your ears will smile, your mouth sing, your heart dance to our interplanetary single - Martian Man!

HERE WE GO, ALIENS! ENJOY!

Martian Man is Written and Performed by Blonde Plutoz
Produced by Blonde Plutoz and John Sempill
Mixed and Mastered by John Sempill
Recorded at Thundercat Studios
© XXMV Blonde Plutoz

UH-OH! MEDIA'S GOT WIND OF IT!

SINGLE & VIDEO OUT OCTOBER 2ND!

MARTIAN MAN SINGLE ON THE WAY!

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 71

The Blonde Plutoz lunched in style at the Grand, compliments of the management.
   Whether the management, at the moment consisting of the secretary robot and a few confused department heads, really felt bad for the girls' sake was not a matter of concern anymore. The rockers had decided to stay.
   A classy lunch and the promise of money tomorrow was acceptable, but the clincher was the sense of satisfaction from knowing they helped a family of aliens - secondary staff, as the bot had put it - to stay in their jobs. The town was tough, conditions tight and the spinning money wheel that was the life of Toss Vague-Ass spun unevenly for all but a few.
   "Well, that wasn't bad," said Zana as she wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin and reached for a toothpick. "I almost feel like a star of some kind."
   "You are a star of some kind," Rivqua said, scraping up the last of an exquisite dessert with an unpronouncable name. By a naturally occuring chemical reaction the stuff actually lit up when you ate it and made the inside of your mouth glow blue for several seconds.
   "Time to get busy I guess."
   "Not quite yet," Rivqua said, looking around for a waiter. She fancied another round of the luminescent delight. She smiled big across the table and Zana shook her head at the sight.
   A small rehearsal followed the delayed star treatment. They wanted to fine-tune some weak spots in the show. A couple of less than perfect changes between numbers and a costume issue that just had to be ironed out, literally. None that the audience noticed but still bugged the artists. As they do, such details.
   The Grand Galactica ballroom was packed out that night. Apparently the rumours of wobblies going on with the Blonde Plutoz engagement hadn't gone far. Or if they had, people wanted to find out why and perhaps this was the last chance.
   It was a clear warm night and everyone seemed in the mood to be entertained by a colourful show and great tunes. A group of high-power Toss Vague-Ass luminaries sat around a large table near the stage and made a whole lot of noise, even before the curtains parted. When the house lights dimmed they got louder still.
   The music kicked off and the curtains got moving. Metro's rolling beat had people on their feet by the second bar. A world of pulsating brightness unfolded. Circling beams cut through the haze and lasers danced, spraying patterns all over the ballroom. On the riser Rivqua gave her sister's hand a quick squeeze as if to say, 'I'm glad we stayed, here we go!' And out of the floor two larger-than-life figures rose into the mayhem. The VIPs roared along with most everybody else.
   About halfway in to the first verse, Zana thought she noticed someone familiar at the big table up front. It almost threw her off. She couldn't be sure, the lights blazed in her eyes, but she nodded to Rivqua to look. Rivqua shielded her eyes and squinted, making it part of a dance move. And was almost thrown off the first chorus.
   There he was. But it couldn't be! It was impossible! Yet... it had to be.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 70

Zana put the girl down and she bounced right into her mother's arms.
   "They're staying! They're staying!" she shouted happily. Her mother hugged her little one tight and gave Zana and Rivqua the most grateful look and bowed her head. Flippine's kid brother gazed in bewilderment at the sudden commotion, and for his contribution held out his toy spaceship for Zana to appreciate.
   Mister Wizzbipp shook the rock stars' hands and poured out his thanks with a promise that he and the stage crew would tweak tonight's show to even greater perfection, just wait and see.
   Rivqua assured him, "You guys are doing great. Any tweaking that needs done, it'll be us."
   Waving and dipping their heads the family of purple aliens retreated back into the elevator and were gone.
   "Well," said Zana, turning to the secretary robot with a business-like smile. "Guess you'd better get busy unlocking our money and we'll go down and have us a little rehearsal, okay?"
   "I assure you your advance funds will be available by lunchtime tomorrow."
   "Just out of curiosity, who takes over the running of the place now?" Rivqua asked.
   The robot was silent for a moment, as if thinking about this.
   "The board will come with suggestions I expect. Mister Bing held the majority stake so they can do nothing more than put forward names. That stake will fall into the hands of the Toss Vague-Ass city council temporarily. The government is not allowed to have commercial enterprises so they will oversee a bidding and in conjunction with the board select a suitable new majority shareholder who in turn may or may not run the hotel. Presumably it will be one of the other hotel owners. Not necessarily though. There is also the monopolies rule for the council to consider."
   "A regular soap opera coming up then," said Zana.
   Rivqua turned to the detective inspector. "I haven't seen anything in the papers, come to think of it. Surely the Grand Galactica manager's murder would be front page news? Why the lid?"
   "They're on to it alright. They just want specifics and absolute confirmation. There are so many fake deaths these days it's embarrassing for the papers when they get it wrong."
   "What? Why would high-fliers fake their death?"
   "To get away from debts, threats, impossible partners. Like I always say, welcome to Toss Vague-Ass! I said that, right? Have I not said that?"
   "You have," said the secretary bot.
   "Does ring a bell," said Zana.

"Smile for the troops, Zana!"

Behind the scenes retro glam snap during music video shoot for song Martian Man. A regular B-movie sci-fi romp that'll bring tears to your eyes.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 69

The child clutched Zana's leg like it was the only solid thing left in the universe. Her little antenna wobbled as she spoke, gasping between sobs.
   "Mu- mum and dad both- both work at the Gwand Gala- tickita. They got imp-important jobs. If you go away, they- they won't have any jobs! We'll have no money! And they'll come take our home, our cawavan! I don't wanna move! We have so little! Please stay! So my mum and da- dad can have their jobs! Please- please!"
   The little girl's button eyes flowed as she stared helplessly at Rivqua crouching beside her. The singer glanced at the child's mother. The alien lady's skin was deep purple and her eyes glistened. She had her hand to her mouth. Embarrassed but also moved by her little one's desperate plea to help her family.
   Zana gently peeled the girl's arms off her leg and picked her up. She didn't weigh much.
   "You really want us to stay?" Zana asked her. "For your mum and dad?"
   The little girl nodded hard, making her antenna dance.
   "Yes," she said, "And my bwother." The distraught child stared at Zana like she was the end of the road, then she hugged her neck and held on tight. "Please."
   "See the kind of problems people like us run into?" Zana said to the detective inspector while patting and stroking the child.
   The policeman took one hat off and scratched his head, looking a tad awkward. "Better you than me."
   Rivqua rose and looked at Zana. A glance of reluctant agreement between the two. She turned to the secretary robot and raised her severe finger of seriousness once more.
   "If we continue our residency, do we have your word that you will sort out our administrative hiccup as soon as possible? Preferably sooner?"
   "You have my word," said the bot, head bowed.
   "And the mother and father of this girl and her brother will carry on uninterrupted in the Grand Galactica's employ?"
   "Certainly," the robot answered.
   "Very well," Rivqua said, settling her fists on her waist. "We have no choice in a situation like this." She gave the parents a confiming nod. "The show goes on."
   The mother and father bowed in gratitude and clasped each other's hands.
   Zana pressed her cheek to the child's head. Somewhere in there under the mass of dark green curls was bound to be an ear. "Hear that, Flippine? We're staying."
   The girl didn't budge. She held on tight.
   "I love you," she said softly and rattled Zana's ear with a snivel.
   "Sir Morris is going to have one of his philosophical spells," Rivqua told Zana.
   Zana dismissed it. "The old fellow loves a good challenge."
   Rivqua bent her lips into a small grin and agreed. "No he doesn't."
   "Right then," said the detective, getting back to the task at hand. He mumbled as he jotted in his notebook, "Nothin' pertinent to add to the case by secondary staff. Still leaves one unsolved murder and one mysterious disappearance for me to solve," he added, looking up. "Aren't I the lucky one."

MAYBE BABY!

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 68

   "There's no need to look at me," the robot said. "I don't know how this happened. We pride ourselves in a carefully structured and departmentalized organisation."
   "This place has bigger holes than a fishnet stocking," snapped the inspector. He looked back at the tech person. "The word's all over the floor, huh? Speakin' of which, you wouldn't happen to have seen Hoot Gaas have you?"
   "No, not since yesterday," replied Mister Wizzbipp, apparently unaware anything was amiss. "But then I don't see him all that often. He's always up in the control room." Wizzbipp turned back to the girls and pleaded, "Please, it cannot be true. Why do you want to leave? You had a big crowd last night. Everybody I know is talking about you. What is it, are we not doing a good job? Something wrong with the stage, the equipment not working properly? We'll fix it, whatever it is. By tonight. I promise."
   "No no," said Zana. "It's not that at all. The stage is fine, we love it. You guys, the staff, you're great. No, this is more of a business related problem. Nothing to do with you."
   The alien technician's shoulders fell and his face sunk. "So there's nothing we can do. You're leaving the Grand. We'll be out of work for a while then."
   "Two to three weeks most likely, until we get another act booked," informed the secretary bot. "Can't be just anyone, you understand. The Grand does require some stature and established position from their artists. Even during off-season."
   Wizzbipp's wife approached and put a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder. "Come on, we must go. You tried, dear. There's nothing more we can do."
   Rivqua and Zana began to feel uneasy. Something wasn't right here.
   "Thank you, Mister Wizzbipp," said the bot with impatience. "You will be contacted."
   All of a sudden one of the children ran up to Zana and hugged her leg tight. "No! You mustn't leave!"
   "Flippine!" exclaimed the mother, reaching for her.
   The little purple girl refused to let go. She looked up at Zana, tears streaming down her face. "Please stay and play! Don't go! You mustn't! Don't you see? You have to stay and play!"
   Rivqua knelt down. She signaled to the mother that it was okay and smiled at the upset child. She stroked her wet cheek and said, "Flippine's a lovely name. Tell me, why do we need to stay and play?"

We Are Sthlm!

Rivqua and Zana playing an acoustic set in the Arena Satelliten marquee at the We Are Sthlm culture festival Tuesday night. Every imaginable artistic expression is on display during the week-long bonanza in Stockholm's Kungsträdgården park. Blonde Plutoz dropped by to help promote Arena Satelliten (arenasatelliten.se), an exceptional resource centre and show venue for young people in the arts.  

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 67

   "And who might you be?" the police inspector demanded.
   "That is Mister Wizzbipp, from Grand Galactica's technical support," the robot secretary told him. She raised her voice a little. "What are you doing here, Mister Wizzbipp? This floor is restricted to senior staff only, you know that."
   "You're disturbin' an interrogation in progress," said the detective like interrogations were all he ever did and it'd be great if the rest of the world would let him conduct them in peace. Then he narrowed the eyes of one head and pointed. "Unless you got somethin' pertinent to add to this here case."
   "Not likely he does, Inspector," said the bot. "We keep lower rank personel out of the inner dealings of the organisation."
   The purple-skinned alien ignored them. His worried eyes were firmly on Rivqua and Zana as he drew toward them, hat in hand.
   "Miss Blonde, Miss Plutoz," he said and tipped his head to both. "I am Wizzbipp. There is a rumour going around that you're leaving the Grand, cancelling your residency. Today. It so worried me, and some of us fellows downstairs, that I simply had to find out from you, in person. Forgive me. I pray it isn't true. Please say it is not true."
   The girls stared at him a moment. His words and manner touched them. In a way that, considering the circumstances, felt like rather a nuisance. Rivqua cleared her throat.
   "Uh, yes. That's- that is correct. Unfortunately it is true. Thing is you see, we and the Grand have reached a kind of impasse, as one occasionally does, and well- you know I'm surprised this news had spread so quickly," she added with a meaningful glance back at the secretary, who received a similar sharp-edged question mark from the detective.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 66

The robot secretary returned to the chair and read her mail.
   "It is official. Your manager terminates your agreement with the Grand Galactica based on our refusal to pay his client."
   "That would be us," Zana said with a glance at the detective, who nodded one head.
   Rivqua added, "Thanks for the welcome by the way. Not quite warm enough for us around here, unfortunately."
   Now the other head nodded, not taking it personally one bit.
   "I just want make it perfectly clear that it is not about refusal, so much as inability," the secretary explained with apologetic irritation. "There is a distinct difference!"
   "It's perfectly clear that whatever difference it is, it makes no difference to us and we're outta here for said reason," Zana said. "Good day to you all."
   "Hey, wait a minute!" cried the lawman as they turned to go.
   They ignored him but Rivqua stopped and looked back. "Just out of curiosity, Inspector. Any developments on the dead manager, Fadda Bing?"
   "Well, he ain't warmin' up the morgue any. He's still quite dead. Listen, you can't just-"
   "What did he die of? It was pretty dramatic, in a chemical reaction kind of way. Certainly to us witnesses."
   "Forensics are analyzin' the toxin as we speak." He threw a quick eye at the wall clock. "Unless they've been careless and dropped dead from it themselves. Wouldn't be the first time neither, freakin' CSI amateurs." He went on with a gesture, "I'm sorry, until I've solved his murder you two can't-"
   "Have you contacted any family?" Rivqua went on, backing away. "Anyone coming to claim the body?"
   "None as far as we know. Now you two just hang on a second!" He raised a hand like a traffic cop.
   The secretary spoke up, "Mister Bing doesn't - didn't - have any family."
   "No kiddin'," the detective snapped, one head glaring at her. "I sure wish you'd told me that yesterday, would've saved me a bunch of phone calls!"
   Just then the elevator pinged. The door slid open and inside stood a family of purple-skinned aliens. Mum and dad and two little kids, who each had an antenna on the head and was impossibly cute. But they looked scrawny and their clothes were old and worn. With the manner of someone who knew he didn't belong up in the penthouse floor, the father pulled his cap off and approached the Blonde Plutoz with a sad face.

Getting it in the can!

       

...and more or less cracking
up during a long session
last Friday laying down a
lovely Blonde Plutoz ballad
with veteran Earthling Håkan Mjörnheim, a Stockholm heavy.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 65

The elevator pinged and the two girls marched out and up to Fadda Bing's private reception area.
   "Inspector," said Zana with a cool nod, and dropped a cooler one to the secretary bot, "Miss."
   The robot stood up behind her desk and was about to introduce them even though they'd already met. The detective cut her short.
   "So, Fadda Bing dead, Mister Hoot Gaas gone. What's your take on this little collection of incidents, eh ladies? Got anything you'd like to say to me?" Fists firmly to his waist he bore down on them with sharp eyes. Both pairs. " 'Cause now'd be a right good time."
   "This is one crazy gig," Zana replied. "We got that to say. That's our take."
   "And that's the reason we're going to take off," Rivqua said, adding, with a look at the robot, "Formal cancelation should be coming through any minute."
   "I see," said the secretary, tilting her head with a jerk to mark offense. "Your manager has advised you to leave."
   "Yes. For reasons we all know very well and don't need to go into yet again. It's getting tiresomely repetitive around here."
   "Hold up," said the detective. He threw an eye at the bot lady. "This the money matter you were talkin' about?" She nodded in reply. The two girls rolled their eyes.
   "There's no crime involved here," said Zana. "At least not on our part."
   The detective's two heads turned to the secretary. "What does she mean by that? Have you got something to say?"
   The bot slammed a hand on the desk. "We're not guilty of any crime! The Grand Galactica cannot release pay to these artists because both Mister Bing and Gaas are not here to sign for it! Those are the rules, everybody abides by them, including the bank, and up till now they have worked flawlessly." While she spoke a soft bell rang out, indicating the arrival of mail in her computer.
   Shoulders rocking with laughter, the detective burst out, "Welcome to Toss Vague-Ass, ladies! Have you two rock people never heard the expression 'the check's in the mail?' "
   "No it isn't," said the bot.
   "Huh?"
   "The check's not in the mail. We don't do that anymore."
   The cop stared at the robot, before smiling back at the girls in full stereo. "Did I say welcome to Toss Vague-Ass? I did, didn't I!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 64

   "Ah. The rock stars, or whatever the flyin' heck you call these types. Funny, I met the pair on the boulevard last evening, now you mention it. Somethin' pretty fishy about them too, if you ask me." The detective's worn trenchcoat opened as he shoved a hand onto his waist and looked off in thought. He wore two slim black ties, one for each neck. The robot lady felt they were a nice match to the black straps of his shoulder holster. Stark over the shirt that worked so hard to call itself white.
   "I'm sorry, I did not ask you," she said softly.
   "No you didn't," the detective mumbled, returning from his brief distraction. "Yes, that Marlin guy did mention somethin' to that effect. Last ones to see him. Like I said, I need to speak to those two girly music types, heaven help me. Where are they?"
   "On their way up presently. I hope they are. I expect them to be. You see, I'm afraid we're in the midst of a slight disagreement. Technically it's an argument, I suppose."
   "I can believe that. What about?"
   "Money."
   "I'll be darned," said the detective, both heads looking at her with sparked interest. Like an angler peering over his flask as his float just took a bob up and down in the dark and trying waters.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 63

   "We meet again," said the two-headed police detective, coming up to the secretary's desk, his pen and notepad already out. He flipped back a few pages and read what he'd written, mostly out of curiosity it seemed. "Let's see, last time I was here it was on occasion of Mister Fadda Bing's death. That was a strange one. Still working on that, in case you're wondering."
   He pushed back the fedora on his left head while the right one continued eyeing the notes. "And now you say Mister Hoot Gaas, entertainment boss, has gone missing? Since when?"
   "Since yesterday afternoon," replied the secretary robot.
   "Yesterday afternoon, eh? Hang on a sec, it hasn't been twenty-four hours. Yet it was reported ten minutes ago - by you. You know what that tells me? Huh? You overrode your civic code base! I could report you for that. You know that, don't you?"
   The robot's head bent down. "I know that, Inspector. I am sorry. But things are in a state of severe mess around here, if you only knew. I felt I had no choice. It will not happen again, I promise."
   She looked up at him, her artificial eyes softly pleading. "Please don't report me."
   The police detective looked at her with one head while scratching the nose on the other.
   "Okay I won't," he said. "It'll leave me with one less pile of pain-in-the-ass paperwork, but I guess I'll manage." He kind of liked his own wittiness there and smiled.
   The secretary missed it.
   "Did you speak with Marlin?"
   "Yes, I was down at casino control," replied the detective, straightening. "Curious fella, that. Something very fishy about him but I can't put my finger on it."
   "Did Marlin mention that our resident artists, the Blonde Plutoz, might well have been the last people to see him?"

BRING YOUR GOOD TIMES!

...and your laughter too! Join us at PSB on Skånegatan 80 in lovely Stockholm tonight. Bandroids will be charged up and music will be hot (that's a stellar guarantee). We're looking forward to a great evening with you all! Engaging warp drive at 9 pm.

SHOWTIME!

Dear Aliens, join us tomorrow night at PSB, Skånegatan 80, for a great midweek show! Our fresh extended set includes new material! And folks, you have gotta hear this music! Even the Bandroids have gone and upgraded themselves with new face plates. How's that for robotic enthusiasm! So come on down, people! We'll have an awesome time together! Downbeat at 21.00.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 62

   "This sucks!" Zana cried out, heading for the door. "This was supposed to be cushy gig! Eight weeks at the Grand Galactica? Who gets that? Sir Morris got us a great one! A residency! A working holiday! And now what, the whole thing has to go and blow up in our faces!"
   "It's a great gig alright, one of our best," Rivqua replied, still by the window. She glanced over at Zana. "The kind that takes more than a pretty face to get."
   "Sir Morris doesn't have a pretty face. He's old!"
   "I meant us."
   "Oh right. Yeah well, I guess that little practical detail didn't lessen our chances. In fact, probably made Sir Morris job a little easier. But what good is the cheesecake factor when everybody else drops dead! Or vanishes! And money freezes solid in an inexplicable black hole!"
   Rivqua sighed and stared down at her feet for a moment.
   "Give the three furries my very best," she said. "They were genuine fans, and such darlings."
   Zana pulled the door open. "Not for much longer they won't be."
   Rivqua picked up the key card and followed. "Guess I'll give Truck and the Bandroids the news."
   Just then the phone rang. They exchanged a look. Rivqua turned back and answered. It was the secretary bot.
   "I have called the police," she said.
   Rivqua checked her watch. "What about the four hours and a bit that's left?"
   "I executed a personal override. I shouldn't really, it's against the rules. But I did. It was strangely liberating. I'll be relegated to duties beneath my capacities as a result, I'm certain. But so be it. I inform you because the police will want to speak to you too."
   Zana threw up her arms. She'd been listening in.
   "Are the police on the scene?" Rivqua asked. "Hang on, where is the crime scene anyway? The guy's just gone!"
   "Come up to the offices, please. The detective inspector is exiting the elevator at this very moment."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 61

Rivqua paced around the hotel room, stopping by the window at every lap for a look at the view. But the only far-reaching landscape her eyes could see was the disastrous situation they found themselves in. They had walked right into it, in good faith, which is the way one usually walks into disasters.
   Actually it was Sir Morris who had instructed them to walk into it. Having set up the deal and prepped the ground for them like any good manager - acting in good faith - is supposed to do. And that faith should have paid off, this being the Grand Galactica and all, centrepiece of the entertainment hot spot known all over the quadrants as Toss Vague-Ass.
   Right now Sir Morris was on speaker phone, in a moment's silence, thinking. Zana lay on the bed with a pillow over her head. She was singing quietly to keep her brain from overheating. One of their early songs. It helped a bit. Brought back memories of a simpler time, playing clubs in Megatopia City for a percentage of the door and an okay meal. How reliable and secure that seemed now.
   "Get out of there as soon as possible!" hollered Sir Morris, shattering the silence. "This is a total breach of contract! I'm shocked! You can't put on a show without being paid! Who knows how long these various managers remain absent, either by death or some sudden impetus to go fishing or whatnot. And the bank? I've never heard of such a rigid system. Dried concrete is more flexible!"
   "We're going to let a whole lot of fans down," Zana squeezed in before the second bridge.
   "And there's the state of the Star Bucket, don't forget," said Rivqua from the window. "We were supposed to get her repaired."
   "There's a fleet facility four hours north of Toss Vague-Ass," Sir Morris replied. "She'll make it there all right. I know the base commander. I'll see about a getting you an unplugged show for the crews, help the process along. I'm sorry, we have no other option."
   "I better go find the three furries," said Zana with a sigh and sat up. She flung the pillow across the room. "Give them an exclusive."
   "Oh no," Rivqua said, covering her face in dismay. "We promised to take them backstage tonight. They'll be devastated."
   "Start packing you two," said Sir Morris and rang off.

SONG TEASER!

NEXT UP!

...and if that was not enough - tasters never are - there's this!

...return visit, Wednesday the 22nd, Pet Sounds Bar, full band, Blonde Plutoz at their best, unbelievable music, wonderful show, loads of fun - come join! 

LIVE TONITE!

ACOUSTIC SET TONITE - 9pm - Pet Sounds Bar PSB - Skånegatan 80 - T-bana Medborgarplatsen. 

What a way to spend the evening! Alien pop rockers Blonde Plutoz bring an unplugged yet totally connected performance packed with great covers and stunning originals in a pleasing, inspiring galactic mix perfect for a sweet summer's night on planet Earth.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 60

   "By then the bank will have closed," Rivqua said, resigned to the fact.
   "The bank!" said the robot and looked up with a snap. "You went to the bank? Did Mister Hoot Gaas make an appearance there?"
   "He was a complete no-show," Zana said. "As was our advance, I might add."
   "Miss secretary, whatever-your-name-is," Rivqua began in explanatory tones, "we face a problem here. It's quite simple really. We can't work without our agreement being properly honoured! We play, you pay. See how nicely that works? It's the law of reciprocal action. Works all over the galaxy. Since you're not paying, why should we play?"
   "I fully appreciate the law of reciprocal action," said the robot, becoming defensive.
   "Who knows when Hoot Gaas will return?" Rivqua blasted on, having had it with this nonsense. "Perhaps never! Perhaps he's thrown in the towel for good. Bored out of his head with running a casino. And gone fishing instead. Or rodent trapping. He might be remodelling his tree house! Building a picket fence and using his cell phone as a hammer! We don't know do we? You see, the funny thing about all this is that we, the Blonde Plutoz, can go somewhere else and play - where they do pay! Imagine that!"
   "Hey, I'm imagining it like crazy," said Zana, arms out and looking at the bot. "Comes easy to me."
   "I am well aware of this," said the secretary with force rising in her soft voice. "The Blonde Plutoz are established and reputable enough to play in many places. Your position in the hierarchy of popular culture is the reason for your booking here at the Grand Galatica in the first place."
   Zana gave her sister an incredulous glance. "Hierarchy of popular culture?"
   Rivqua returned a dismissive shrug and took a step closer to the secretary's desk and drew up a finger into warning mode.
   "We have no choice but to speak to our manager, and I have a pretty good idea what he's going to say!"
   "And that's based on previous experience!" Zana added, before stomping off with Rivqua for the elevator.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 59

The Blonde Plutoz took a slow walk back to the Grand. It wasn't meant to be slow, they just felt a bit sapped after the bizarre bank meeting. Aimless, is what they felt. Encounters with systemic madness does that you. And rock stars, any artists actually, are particularly susceptible to folly that makes a mockery of practicality.
   For the artist, being spacey and seldom making sense is okay. It's part of the job. But everything around them needs to function smoothly, efficiently, like a well-oiled machine. When it doesn't the artist gets completely lost in space. Free-floating, like a communications satellite way off its trajectory. Idling. Aimless.
   Such were the moods of Rivqua and Zana as they wandered down the boulevard. They were aliens in an environment more inhospitable than previously believed.
   In the daytime the shop windows seemed to take precedence over gambling joints. Fashion stores, diners, streetwear, shoes, luxury vehicles, robotics, furniture, beauty, all on taunting display on either side of the boulevard.
   Some of the stuff looked interesting. As it was, the girls badly needed an upgrade in terms of costumes. Female rock stars are heavy on the image license. Right now, though, they were down to window shopping. Sharing longing gazes at various desirables with the once-optimistic amateur gamblers who loitered along the sidewalk, occasionally leaning furrowed brows against the glass panes.
   Sense and purpose were way out of reach at the moment. Only because Hoot Gaas, a funny big owl, had decided to place himself out of reach. And nobody seemed to know why.
   "Any word from him?" Rivqua asked the secretary robot when they came up to the penthouse offices.
   "No," said the bot, shaking its head in a believable way. "I am worried and upset. If I don't hear from him in four hours and twenty-two and a half minutes I shall have to contact the police."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 58

The owl lady slipped the tablet back into some pocket beneath her feathers and crossed her arms. She smiled with a mix of concern and satisfaction.
   "No funds."
   The girls gaped.
   "What do you mean no funds?" Zana cried.
   "The place was packed last night!" Rivqua said. "And from what we could see, the casino was doing roaring business as well!"
   "Hoot Gaas oversees the transfer of last night's takings personally," explained the big lady. "Together we split everything up into various accounts and investments. Alas, no money has been transferred in the last twenty-four hours. As far as you're concerned, we're stuck with an empty bowl."
   She began tapping her chin, looking off in thought. "If this keeps up, however, we could be facing a grave situation, a problem of considerable magnitude. A potentially catastrophic circumstance." She wasn't talking about the Blonde Plutoz.
   The girls stared at her.
   "So, no advance," Rivqua said, summarizing the hopelessness.
   "Not possible, I'm sorry."
   "And you can't do credit."
   "Perish the word."
   "How about a short-term loan then, say till next week?" Zana ventured.
   "Do you have any security? Apart from a spaceship in grave disrepair?"
  The girls sighed and exchanged resigned looks, aching with irritation.
   "We got eight weeks of this?"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 57

   "So I am. The rules, as per the bank's own agreement with the Grand Galactica, which predates yours by at least five decades, clearly state that issuing salaries to artists currently engaged hinges on authorization by one of two individuals. One of whom is bumped off and the other mysteriously vanished. You see the problem? It's a legal twist, it is. Heavy on the legal. My, I'll be good and plucked if I can remember a problem like this."
   She tapped her chin in thought and looked quite relieved. Which was fitting for a bank manager, and therefore annoying.
   "With respect, Ma'am," Zana said, exercising admirable restraint. "The Grand Galactica is hardly some little joint in the corner of a back alley! They're good for the money aren't they?"
   The owl lady nodded as if it was a point of personal pride. "Never defaulted once, not in all the years we've done businss. Exemplary record. Enjoys the bank's complete confidence. And you can quote me on that."
   "So what's the problem?" Rivqua burst out. "Their credit's good enough to be printed on a kitchen magnet. All's well then, right? Will you please be kind enough to give us our advance!"
   "It has nothing to do with credit," she said, producing a tablet from somewhere within the folds of her feathery bulk. "Confidentially speaking, it's all about actual, tangible, bankable funds." Her small beak cracked into a brief smile.
   She started tapping and scrolling for information. "Let's see, artist name, Blonde Plutoz. Advance, one third. Just like you said, very good. Eight week booking, excellent. Might get a ticket myself." Another silly little smile.
   "You got it all there!" Zana exclaimed like they were wasting of time. "What's the holdup!?"
   The big owl lady scrolled and tapped away. "Aha! Just as I thought!"
   "What!?"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 56

The bank manager continued, "As I recall, Hoot Gaas, in the capacity of second-in-command of entertainment at the Grand Galactica, is able to sign for artists' salaries in the event of Fadda Bing's absence. Alas, for reasons unbeknownst to us at present, Mister Gaas has taken on the manner of an absentee himself." She opened her hands in a vacant gesture. "Which leads me to a second problem."
   "There's two problems now?" Rivqua asked.
   "Give her another minute and there'll be three," Zana mumbled.
   The banking owl went on, "And that is, we simply have nobody authorized to sign for artists' salaries. And since you are the artists in question, I'm sorry to say, my hands are tied. There's nothing I can-"
   "There's nothing you can do," Zana interrupted, finishing her sentence, and gave her sister a dry glance. "Sounds just like banking to me."
   "We understand each other!" said the feathered lady. "I am relieved. Well then, I imagine that settles our business. I bid you good day."
   "Wait!" Zana shouted, stopping the big owl mid-turn. "This won't do, okay? Not one bit! We didn't bump Fadda Bing off! Nor did we cause Hoot Gaas to vanish! We're here, in Toss Vague-Ass, booked to play the Grand Galactica. We started last night, and today we get an advance payment! From you!"
   "Don't point, dear. I'm older and heavier than you, and your bracelets rattle most furiously. Ooh, my delicate ears."
   Rivqua sang out, "Going off topic, Ma'am!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 55

Being a bank manager she was skilled at the sympathetic nods.
   "I see. How big an advance, may I ask?"
   "One third."
   "And that agreement, it was signed by Fadda Bing, I presume?"
   "Correct," Rivqua replied more slowly, sensing a brake chute about to deploy in the otherwise nice conversation.
   "And now Fadda Bing is deceased," said the owl with a thoughtful tap of her chin again, like she was laying out the facts in her mind, even though they weren't that complicated. "Which is one of those things that occasionally occurs, for better or worse, and is known by insurance adjusters as an act of higher powers beyond anyone's control or choice."
   "It was murder," Zana said, adding with a shrug, "And someone committed it."
   "Indeed, by poisoning, like you said," the owlish banker woman replied. "Most unfortunate. Regardless, it is certainly beyond our control and for the purposes of banking, utterly irrelevant."
   "Okay," said Rivqua with some caution, "how about, for the purposes of getting down to what actually is relevant, let's discuss our money. That should be within our control, right? This being a bank and all? And we being owed some?"
   The big owl sighed deeply and clasped her fingers around her massive tummy. She looked down at her toes. "Since Fadda Bing is the one who signs for the salaries of visiting artists, and he is now unable to sign for it, I'm afraid we have a problem."
   The girls were not liking this. "A problem?"
   The brake chute was fully inflated.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 54

   "Not a likely murder suspect then," said Zana after a brief silence. "Good thing we got that cleared up. While we anxiously await his making an appearance somewhere, anywhere, why don't we move on to the second matter?"
   "The money," said the owl lady without hesitation.
   "It's about time we got some."
   The bank manager offered a sympathetic nod to this.
   "According to our agreement, we're entitled to an advance on the first week's pay after out first show," Rivqua said. "And our first show was last night."
   "Hm, that's unusual, for the Grand to agree to such a concession," the bank lady said, tapping her chin. "May I ask what prompted such a request in the first place?"
   "Our tour ship's in the shop," Rivqua explained. "We ran into volcanic dust on the approach to our last engagement. Clogged up drive filters and fried radars. Our autopilot could give you the details. As it turned out, the local space port, which was basically a patch of tarmac with a tool shed in the corner, couldn't finish the job, but they sure finished our money. We got to Toss Vague-Ass on a half-limp. Came in too low, too fast. Had to talk our way out of a speeding ticket."
   "Ha! Well done."
   "Long story short," Zana finished off, "the Star Bucket is in a well-equipped hangar at the Vague-Ass space port, with its guts spread out over workbenches and clever robots looking at them, scratching their shiny heads. And we're flat broke. Won't last till the end of the week. There's the prompt. For the request. In the first place."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 53

Rivqua and Zana stared at each other with complete incomprehension. This wasn't making any sense. The bank manager laughing her owl head off at the notion of her cousin, Hoot Gaas, being a murder suspect.
   At length she petered off. Residual chuckles came up like small coughs.
   "I'm sorry, Ma'am," Rivqua said, reopening contact. "I think you have us at a disadvantage. 'Cause we're not following one bit."
   Wiping her big round eyes the owl lady said, "No dear, I'm sure you're not. Ooh, I needed that. My my. You know, back where I come from, that's what we call a hooter."
   She stopped in her tracks.
   "A 'Hoot'-er!" she repeated. And off she went once more.
   The robot clerk was perplexed by the manager's behaviour. He came up to the girls.
   "This is most irregular. Should we alert a software specialist? A physician?"
   Zana shook her head. The laughter slowed quicker this time. Owl lady collected herself, straightened her tufts, patted down her plume, made an effort to resume professional conduct.
   Rivqua helped her. "I take it that Mister Hoot Gaas is not a likely murder suspect. In your opinion."
   "Let me tell you something about Hoot Gaas," the bank lady said, back in charge. "He is incapable of hurting a fly. Why, only last year he turned vegetarian. Can't stand violence or blood. Silly fellow. Fear of conflict is what it is. That's why he tucks himself away in that control room! Keeps an eye on the floor using monitors and sharp eyesight. And has to look away whenever security gets to the rough stuff. Poor lad. Hoot a murder suspect? Ha! Not likely."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 52

The owl lady's bushy eyebrows shot up. "The police have a favourite suspect? Really? Who, pray tell, would that be?"
   Rivqua looked at the big feather-clad female. She wasn't making the connection. At the same time she seemed almost guilty. Too guilty. Rivqua put it down to default behaviour of owlish bank managers faced with any challenge regarding the unknown.
   Zana went in with customary delicacy. "Hoot Gaas of course! Fadda Bing gets smoked and the same day Hoot goes missing! He never goes missing! His second-in-command at the casino made that clear, and he seemed to be a pretty educated fish. A bit odd, wouldn't you say?"
   Owl woman stared at them both.
   "Hoot Gaas? A murder suspect?"
   "We don't know for sure," Rivqua said, raising a finger. "But I can imagine the detective inspector's got both his brains working that angle-"
   Before she'd finished the bank manager burst out laughing. Took off with a guffaw that rocked her feathery bulk from top to bottom. The robot clerk turned to look what was going on. This was not a familiar display.
   The girls looked at each other. For want of grasping what was funny they joined in, applying mild chuckles to the moment.
   Rivqua said, "Yeah, suspicion of murder, eh? How about that?"
   "You might not believe this, Ma'am," added Zana, "but we've got two brains too, between us, and we came to the same conclusion!"
   The lady owl slapped her thighs, howling away.
   "Hoot Gaas!" she shrieked. "A murder suspect!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 51

   "The police detective would love to hear this," Rivqua said. "You wouldn't happen to have like, a favourite suspect?"
   "Of course not! They're all favourites. In fact, most of them are customers."
   "Come on, you said we're speaking off the record," Zana pursued, also dropping her voice. "You can tell us. Who's the most favourite of the favourites?"
   "I cannot pass out information on my customers, nor issue any personal opinions, especially not about my most important customers."
   "So the favourite ones are the most important ones?" Rivqua said.
   The owl lady threw out her big feathered arms. "This is banking!"
   "Okay," Rivqua sighed and dropped the investigative line. "Then there's the issue about money."
   "I registered that, but before we go there let me hear the other news. You told me the first news, which was bad, officially. Now give me the second, which statistically should be good. Officially. The first explains why and where Hoot Gaas is detained, he's preoccupied with the clearing up of this grisly incident to remember our business meeting. Mystery solved."
   "Well no, you see, Ma'am, the second thing is, Hoot Gaas is not back at the Grand clearing up the 'incident'. He has gone missing. No one has seen him or heard from him. His secretary doesn't know, nobody knows."
   "Missing? Since when?"
   "Yesterday afternoon," Zana said. "He popped in on our sound check, where he got the call about Fadda Bing. He seemed distraught by the news and returned to the control room."
   "Or so we thought," added Rivqua. "Somewhere around there he appears to have vanished. And has not been seen anywhere in the Grand since."
   Zana said, with a knowing wink, "I'll bet the police detective's got a favourite suspect of his own now."

EDSBERG PARK - SCHOOL'S OUT! Thanks For a Great Night, Aliens! Love Ya!

"Yup, we're from way up there, folks." 

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 50

Again Rivqua and Zana exchanged looks. The moment felt all too familiar. Like they were repeating a role they hadn't asked to play in the first place. Bringers of sad tidings.
   "Ma'am, first we have some bad news," Rivqua began. "And it's about Fadda Bing. He's dead."
   "Bumped off, good and proper," Zana added with a 'go figure' kind of shrug. "I remember it like it was yesterday. It was yesterday actually."
   The girls stared at the owl-lady, waiting for a reaction, bracing themselves in case she would react like Hoot Gaas did and bounce herself off the floor like a rubber ball. She had the shape to pull the stunt off comfortably. But she didn't. Instead, she took this information in for a blank second, then took a deep thoughtful breath and stood as if she were at the head of a conference table with a firm opinion about things. She cleared her throat.
   "Speaking officially, I'm obliged to say that is very unfortunate. Yesterday, eh? Dead how?"
   "Poisoned."
   The bank manager chuckled, sending a wobble through her feathers.
   "Colourful!"
   "It was."
   "Now, speaking off the record," owl woman continued and lowered her voice as if amused by the whole thing, "I can't say I'm surprised. The man had a knack for creating enemies in this town. The backs he stabbed to make the Grand Galactica the centre point of Toss Vague-Ass, all the arms he twisted, ligaments he snapped, beaks he bent, I tell you they're too many to count."
   "Really?" Rivqua said, getting interested. "So you're saying there could be several suspects?"
   "Dozens."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 49

The clerk bot spoke into a headset that had materialized out of his head.
   "Yes, Ma'am. The Blonde Plutoz. Music artists from the Grand Galactica. They claim that Mister Hoot Gaas is with you and you will shortly be having lunch together, like regular sweethearts, though the meaning of that eludes me. They wish to address a matter concerning a fat load of money. Very good, Ma'am."
   Rivqua and Zana looked at each other. "Ma'am?" they both mouthed in curious disbelief.
   No sooner had the bot hung up and his headset slotted back into his head, than an office door burst open behind him. From it emerged a largely built owl creature with round eyes and lots of feathers.
   "The Blown Kudos! Hoot told me about you. I was about to call the Galactica, give that Fadda Bing fellow a piece of my mind. But now you're here. Good! Finally someone who can tell me where that scoundrel Hoot is today." The matronly alien stared at the girls. "You can tell me that, can't you? You do know, don't you?"
   "No, Ma'am, I'm sorry to say we can't, and don't," Rivqua said. "We were hoping you could, and would."
   The owl shoved her arms into her waist and shook her head vigorously. Her long ear tufts fluttered. "That over-worked cousin of mine is hopeless! I have to tell you, he doesn't usually do this. He is very punctual. Together we oversee the preliminary placement of the casino's takings, on a daily basis. The Grand Galactica turns over significant funds and not a day is to be wasted on poor investing. Then we lunch, if there's time. Today there's time, but where is the silly fellow!"

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 48

The trip to the bank took the form of a power walk. It had to. Rookie status during off-season meant no limo service and cab fares in Toss Vague-Ass were severe in the hour leading up to lunch. So up the boulevard they paraded, elbows swinging, single-minded in the ambition to discover why Hoot Gaas was off in nowhereland - along with the band's advance.
   "We'd like to speak to the manager, please," Rivqua told the robot clerk manning the enquiries and loans and investments and safety deposit box desk. He looked the part.
   "And what is the nature of your request, Miss?"
   "A missing person and a fat load of money," Zana said, leaning on the counter.
   "The money, whose would it be, if you don't mind my asking?" Hope glinted in the bot's eyes.
   "No we don't mind," Rivqua said. "It would be ours."
   The spark dwindled. "I see. And this missing person, does he have your money? You might be better served by the police station in the next block-"
   "Yes he does have our money! And chances are he's in a meeting with your manager right now."
   "Excuse me?"
   "And then they're popping off to lunch together," Zana said. "Like regular sweethearts. Call him up and see."
   The robot processed this for a second, then moved to press a button. "Sorry, your names are...?"

Live 9th June at School's Out, Summer In The Park Festival, Edsberg, Sollentuna!

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 47

The Blonde Plutoz stared at the robot. Apart from the unpleasantries of the past twenty hours or so, with a creepy murder welcoming them to town, the situation began to echo a certain dubious showbiz tradition - getting screwed on your first gig.
   Far from okay, this pat on the back was still kept up as a tradition in some parts. Like a rite of passage or something. Big dogs pointing out their lamp post going, "See that, whippersnappers? That's our post! And that's our wee your smellin', see? Wanna pee on our post? Oh you do, do you! Well we gonna take your bone, see? Show you who's boss! Woff!" That kind of thing.
   The Grand Galactica was hardly Blonde Plutoz' first gig. The stage of silly rites was passed long ago. It was their first in Toss Vague-Ass, however. Perhaps that was it. Like in all entertainment capitals past merits meant nothing, despite getting hired because of them. Showbiz in a nutshell.
   "Nothing anybody can do, eh?" Zana said after running a lap around these thoughts for a few seconds. The secretary bot carried on typing. Then she stopped and looked up as if her processors tripped over a fact worth mentioning. So she mentioned it.
   "There is one procedure that Mister Hoot Gaas does every day."
   Rivqua didn't look impressed. "Probably not today though, wouldn't you agree?"
   "Not here at the Grand Galactica. At the bank. Mister Hoot Gaas takes care of financial matters before lunch every day. And then has lunch with the manager. Whom I think he rather fancies."
   At this Rivqua and Zana expressed a glimmer of hope.
   "You're saying it's just possible he might keep that appointment?"
   "It would not be illogical."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 46

After breakfast the following morning Rivqua and Zana took the elevator up to the penthouse offices to check on things.
   "No, and it is most unsatisfactory," said the secretary bot, head tilted down. She hadn't heard from Hoot Gaas in the past sixteen hours and forty-three minutes either. "I have no procedure for the current status. It's a complete anomaly. In seven hours and seventeen minutes I can declare a formal emergency. Until then my duties are as normal. I'm sorry." The robot sat down and began shuffling papers on her desk. She did look sorry somehow, in a delicately programmed kind of way.
   "Anomalies are for outer space," Zana said, glancing at Rivqua. "We're on the ground and we got one here too? What is this?" She looked back at the sad droid. "Have you notified the police?"
   "I will as soon as it becomes a formal emergency," replied the bot, taking a stoic turn.
   "Thing is," Rivqua began, "Our contract says we're supposed to get our first instalment today, this morning, like an advance on our first week's pay. That's the agreement made with Mister Bing who, being dead, unfortunately is in no position to swing his pen and sign for it. We understand that Hoot Gaas has the authority to clear artists' payments, but he's gone and apparently took his authority with him. So what do we do?"
   "There is nothing you can do and there is nothing I can do." the secretary said, scanning documents and tapping away on a holographic keyboard. Her appearance was that of a mature office professional, with manner and design meant to inspire confidence and capability. But right now she looked more like a preschool principal acting like the playground wasn't on fire.