The CWA Of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #106: Flying Home

 Capt. Brown landed the Jaguar and put it in park.
 “Shouldn't I lock it or something?” He said.
 “It doesn't have a roof, locking it would be ridiculous. Besides, didn't you see the plaque?” Dr. Smith asked.
 “What plaque?”
 “This Automobile Property Of Dr. Zachary Smith.” Dr. Smith quoted. “Who would steal a car belonging to me?”
 Capt. Brown considered this. It was common knowledge that Dr. Smith was a good friend of Capt. Brown, and that Capt. Brown {Being the mayor} could have anyone he deemed worthy of it beheaded without a trial.
  “I guess. But what if the thief can't read?”
  “Ah. Good point. Pop the hood.”
Dr. Smith walked around the front of the car to the engine.
His hand went from the engine to his pocket.
“There. C'mon, I want to check on Jeeves.”

-=fig. 660: reading the placard=-

Dr. Smith leaned in closer to the door.
“Huh. That can't be right.” He said, reading the placard.
He went into the Jazz Club.
 Jeeves greeted him with a smile, “Hello Sir, It is good to see you have returned, We start quite soon and I didn't think I could find a lead trumpeter in time.”
 “Jeeves, Did you put that sign in the door?”
  “Yes Sir.”
  “ ‘Closed by edict of the King’? But Jeeves, We dont have a King.”
  “Exactly why my ruse is so clever, Sir–”
  “ ‘Rooze’ Jeeves, It's pronounced ‘Rooze’.”
  “No, Sir It's pronounced ‘ruce’ To rhyme with Loose, or Goose, or…”
  “Deuce?” Suggested Capt. Brown. {Dr. Smith gave him a quick glare.}
  “Exactly, Ruse. Policemen and people who aren't in on the gag simply pass it off as a typo while the more adventurous sort just walk in. It works surprisingly well.”
  “Amazing.”
  “Thank you Sir,  I had hoped that you would find it amusing.”
 Dr. Smith saw a hole in this plan, “But won't word get around?”
  “Yes, Sir.”
  “So won't the police find out…Eventually?”
 “Probably Sir. And when they do, we'll have another raid and patronage will go up another 20%.  The people like a bit of danger, Sir. Now If you could change into your Jazz clothes we start in ten minutes.”
Six-and-a-half minutes Later Dr. Smith was onstage.
Capt. Brown was already seated, he hadn't made as many concesions to his everyday outfit as Dr. Smith had.
He was still wearing his hat, and trenchcoat, and hip holsters, and shoulder holsters, and tan pants.
 His Jazz Clothes, in fact, consisted entirely of a gray jacket and a blue tie.
Dr. Smith straightened the black tie of his tuxedo.
The lights Dimmed.
A Spotlight clicked on,

-=fig. 661: in the spotlight=-

Honeylips Davis sang.
And gosh did she sing. 
The room became silent.
Then the musicians remembered their parts, and started playing.

When the song was over even the beatniks were clapping, and some of them had tears in their eyes.

It wasn't even a sad song.

-=-

At the end of their set Jeeves took the stage.

  “Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen.” He said “there will be a brief intermission while we feed the orchestra, drinks are available at the bar, please spend all your money.”
This got a laugh.
It wasn't a joke.

-=-

Dr. Smith balanced his soup and coffee on the tiny plate as he made his way to the ‘Performers Lounge’ which consisted of a couch and a couple of chairs. 

But he stopped. 

Capt. Brown had just told a joke, and the band was laughing. 

They all looked so happy. 

  “I'll go sit somewhere else, I guess.” He said to no one, sadly.

Without looking he sat down in the nearest open seat. 

“No, Please, sit there. It's not taken or anything.” Said a sarcastic voice.

-=fig. 662: meeting with mr. radio=-

Dr. Smith looked up. “Mr. Radio?” He said. 

  “Dr. Smith! A pleasure to see you again. What's been happening?”

Dr. Smith told him.

-=-

  “And you say stuff like this happens every week?” Mr. Radio said in awe.
  “Yes. Like some sort of bad B-movie.”
  “Or a dime-store novel.” Mr. Radio was thinking. “Is it always the french?” He asked.
  “No.” Dr. Smith answered. “Sometimes it's the Russians. But most of the time it's Von BadGuy.”
  “Von BadGuy?”
  “Yeah, but don't let him hear you call him that, His real name is Von TipRău. Romanian, You know.”
  “And what does Von TipRău do?”
  “Stereotypical villain-y things. Usually it's strapping me to some ridiculously complex machine which I inevitably escape from.”
  “Every week?”
  “Every week.”
  “What have you done to this man to make him hate you so?”
  “I have no idea. I'm usually too preoccupied trying to escape to ask pressing questions.”
  “But every week you escape?”
  “And destroy his lair in the process. You'd think he'd learn his lesson after awhile.”
  “How long has this been going on?”
Dr. Smith shrugged. “Two years or so. But I've been having adventures and stuff almost my whole life.”
  “But this is amazing!” Mr. Radio said “You're a real-life action-hero!”
  “I wouldn't go that far,” Dr. Smith said, “There's very little action. I usually just talk my way out of it or am rescued.”
 “By who?”
 “Capt. Brown, usually.”
 “The really strong tall guy in the cape with the deep voice who spends most of his time on roofs?”
 “It's a trenchcoat, but yeah.”
  “And you're his…what, sidekick?”
  “Actually, I think he's mine.”
  “What makes you think that?” Mr. Radio pulled a dollar out of his pocket, it had a fairly accurate picture of a clean-shaven Capt. Brown in a silly hat and the official uniform “Look at him, that's leading man material, Whereas you…” Mr. Radio let his voice trail off.
Dr. Smith got the message.
  “I ‘think that’, Mr. Radio, Because I'm the one who's always being captured, I'm one they monologue to, I'm the one they lower slowly into the pit of acid or whatever. Jame–Capt. Brown may be the Hero but I'm the protagonist.”
  “Good.” Mr. Radio said with a nod. “We'll start filming tomorrow.”
  “…What?”
  “The story of your life, Dr. Smith. It's a TaVee show. We've realised that we'll have a lot of time to fill, And you can only have so many cowboy and detective shows. So we'd like to make a TaVee show based off your life.”
  “But …What would you call it?”
  “We were thinking ‘The Continuing Weekly Adventures Of Doctor Zachary Smith.”
  “That's a stupid name.”
  “Well what would you call it?”
Dr. Smith thought for a moment.
  “Smith & Brown.”
Mr. Radio considered it. It had a certain… catchiness, and it was easy to spell.
 “Alright.” He said, finally.

-=fig. 663: capt. brown interloping=-

  “Hey Zachary!” Capt. Brown said, as he stopped walking by. “We missed you at the…” He pointed to the corner “…Thingy. Place with the chairs. Who's this?”
  “Why James, It's Mr. Radio!”
Capt. Brown shook Mr. Radio's hand “Good to see you again.”
  “James, We're gonna be on TaVee!”
  “We are?”