He hadn't told the goblins he was staying. It was probably
best left unsaid for now. Besides, they were having a very good
time in their human forms, coming to like the light of the real
world. For the first time, they were living the lives they had
been denied as goblins, and they were slowly awakening to this
fact. They didn't hold Jareth responsible, thankfully. They knew
the circumstances of their becoming goblins. So now they stayed
out all hours of the night, dancing at clubs, drinking,
pretending to be young, sophisticated men and women…and as
they learned about the world they had joined, it was becoming
less and less of an illusion.
He thought back to his Labyrinth, the strange, twisted, lonely
world. Nothing but pain there, nothing but being the villain and
suffering through one performance after another, bound to a fairy
tale formula he couldn't seem to bend, much less shatter. But
here he was the hero. He smiled, turning around in his leather
chair in his comfortable, clean, modern office. He gazed out on
the Los Angeles strip that ran past Underground Music's glass and
metal building, watching those shining, sleek cars go by.
*****
Pizzazz grabbed a picture of Eric Raymond smiling with his
arms around the equally cheerful Misfits, who were standing
behind her just then. She threw it on the floor, and the glass
exploded over the carpet. She continued her tantrum, punctuating
each word by grinding her heel into the picture onto Eric's face,
her aim uncanny.
"I…hate…you!"
"Pizzazz, take it easy," Eric cautioned from behind
his desk.
"You promised me you'd have it done within the week!"
Eric rolled his eyes. "We can't buy him out. He's got the
whole thing locked up tight. We underestimated Underground
Music."
"Doesn't my father have enough money?" she shrieked.
"Yeah," Jetta added. "E's got tons of dash. It
shouldn't be a problem."
"Jareth Trevale wouldn't sell Stinger Sound an old pair of
boots," Riot snapped, coming into the office. He slammed the
door behind him. The glass rattled and Eric shuddered.
"I know you're upset," he said dryly, "but must
you destroy my entire office?"
Roxy laughed. "Let's trash the place!"
Pizzazz smiled at her. "That's an idea," she said,
calming down. At Eric's nervous face, she added, "This means
we go to plan two."
"Plan two?" asked Riot, raising his eyebrows.
"Sabotage!" she said, looking rather delighted with the
idea.
"Hold on there," said Stormer. "Maybe you're going
overboard, Pizzazz. I don't think we should hurt
anyone…"
The green-haired rock star waved her hand at the "nice"
Misfit. "We're just going to make a little mess, get over
it…"
Stormer looked unsure, but Eric was already on the phone.
"Techrat. I have a little job for you…"
*****
Techrat loved two things in life. He loved his gadgets. And he
loved Minx, the Stinger with the long, straight, sleek blonde
hair. He fancied she even understood him.
He drove his black camero through the night-darkened streets of
the city, Minx in the seat beside him, long blonde hair blowing
in the wind and his suitcase full of breaking-and-entering
devices in her lap. It would be safe to say Techrat was
completely happy then. "So why are we doing this,
anyway?"
"Jareth is ruining us. Can you imagine it? People would
rather listen to him than to us."
Techrat shook his head. "Sounds pretty ridiculous. We're
here." He pulled the car into the lot two buildings down
from Underground Music. "Let's do it."
The got out and hurried through the darkness. "How are we
getting in?" Minx asked.
"Through the front door." Techrat stopped, opened
the case, and pulled out a small remote. He pushed a few buttons.
"Open sesame," he chuckled. The sliding glass doors
parted obediently.
"You're a genius," Minx said, a rare moment of
admiration from the generally egotistical star.
"Thank you." He dropped her a wink, and they walked
into the building. It was the middle of the night. It should have
been completely deserted. It was, at least the first floor
reception room was. And it should have been as still as death. It
was not. From somewhere nearby, they heard music floating, and
the sounds of something inhuman singing.
"What are people still doing here?" Minx looked in the
direction of the sounds uneasily.
"Doesn't sound much like people."
She shuddered. "Maybe it's just a recording. She rifled
through the secretary's desk. "Ugh!"
"What?" asked Techrat, beginning to go through his
case.
"It's…a sandwich."
"So some secretary left her lunch, big deal."
"No…" Minx gingerly reached into the drawer and
pulled out a plastic baggie, wherein was a strange, green square.
Techrat frowned. "Something isn't right here." He left
his gadgets and got up, beginning to go over the desk.
"Interesting doodles," he said, holding up one sheet of
paper covered in childish drawings. He flipped through an
appointment book. The writing at the beginning of it was large
block letters, the hand of a five-year-old first learning to
write. Several words were misspelled, some almost indecipherable.
And the notes were in a dialect similar to Jetta's at its worst.
"Ave…no, have," Techrat said, reading it
carefully. "Have lunch wif-with Viveean Mongomere?"
"Vivian Montgomery," Minx supplied.
He flipped some more pages. As the appointments went on, the
writing got a little better, the spelling a little less painful.
But there had not been a secretary change. The writer had simply
gotten better with practice.
"It looks like Roxy wrote this thing. Why would Trevale
hire a secretary who's barely literate? And this desk is a
mess."
"Maybe he's doing a good deed for someone, giving a
less-fortunate person a job," Minx said, obviously not
really understanding the concept, only repeating what she'd been
told.
"For the main receptionist of a major music company?
No…"
"Duck!" cried Minx, pushing him down under the desk
with her. The elevator had begun moving. They lay under the desk,
watching carefully for whatever would come out.
Jareth Trevale emerged, to their awestruck surprise. There could
be no mistaking that he'd been awakened in the middle of a sound
sleep. He wore a silk bathrobe around his burgundy silk pajamas,
and his hair was not mussed, but gathered in a blonde ponytail.
He rubbed his make-up free eyes sleepily and started in the
direction of the sound.
"He lives here?" whispered Minx.
"It's not unheard of. Still, it's weird."
They watched as he opened a door, not by touching it, but by
waving his hand, not too different from Pizzazz's earlier gesture
of dismissal at Stormer. On the other side, they saw something
that froze them, something they would never forget, something no
one would ever believe.
Monsters.
Dozens and dozens of small monsters cavorting with larger, furry
red monsters around a dirty room of some kind, with…chickens
and an indention in the floor, and a big chair at the center,
rather like a throne. This room was not part of this building. It
couldn't be…
"What are you all doing here and out of costume!?"
Jareth snapped.
The music died abruptly. The monsters looked a little put out.
"Well, what have you got to say for yourselves?"
"Sorry?" asked one.
"Very good. And if I ever hear anything like this again,
I'll dip you headfirst into the bog of stench, no questions
asked."
"Yes, sire."
"Now, come on out of there, all of you."
They slowly began to file into the room, but as they did, they
changed shape. They became human. One of the furry monsters
started through the door.
"Not you," Jareth told it, plucked off its head, and
threw it back into the room.
"Aw, man," the head sighed dismally as it through the
air.
Minx found that amazing voice she was so proud of and began to
scream. Techrat grabbed her and his case of gadgets, and they
started to run. The automatic doors slid open for them, and the
dashed away into the night, Minx still shrieking in terror.
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