Two one-hour sets with a break in between for drinks and loo visits went by like the minutes had gone through a time-warp and shrunk. Typical for a good gig. The audience, a curious mixture of species from nearby quadrants, expressed their appreciation loudly and visibly. Most of them wore familiar tuxes and dresses. Other clothing styles were seen, including the odd exotic guest in atmospheric suit and vapour mask.
"We have loved being here with you tonight!" said Zana as the final number vamped up. "Thank you all for coming and spending this great evening with us!"
The first show in the Blonde Plutoz' eight week run ended on a more formal note than they were used to. But then this was Toss Vague-Ass, it was a freaking ballroom, it was off-season, and one does well not to rock the spaceship presumptiously, as Rivqua might have said.
Rivqua did say, "Ladies and gentlemen and aliens! We sure enjoyed your company tonight! This is our last song for this evening. Drive and fly safe and come back soon to the Grand Galactica! Goodnight!"
A nice little plug for their employer, professional generosity you might call it, and off went the closing stomper to get the chandeliers swinging good and proper. This wasn't quite an encore type of crowd, the girls reckoned five short minutes later as they took their bows and the lights dimmed.
They reckoned wrong. The room was on its feet. The cheers and clapping amounted to thunder. This audience, for all their ballroom formality, had their hair down tonight. Follow-spots came back on. The curtains stayed open. The rectangle on the stage floor went nowhere. After another couple bows Rivqua and Zana looked at each other.
In the wings stood the stage hand and made excited circular gestures. In their earpieces the girls heard Truck chuckle.
"They ain't gonna let yous two go that easy. Sort it out will you, 'cause I don't know about you, but I'd kinda like to hit the sack."
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