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.