“He definitely didn’t bribe that first guy,” says Mel. “That dude was totally rocking out.”
“I bet he bribed everybody else though.”
“That would suck,” says Mel.
“I can’t imagine that he would do that,” says Clarissa. “Doesn’t he have anything better to do than go around finding people to pay to attend a punk rock show?”
“No,” I say. “He definitely does not.”
“Maybe he asked them to show up but didn’t actually pay anybody,” Audrey offers.
“We’ve asked people to show up, and they almost never do.”
“You think it’s Blake’s charisma?” asks Mel.
“No!” I say. “Everybody in this car is more charismatic than Blake! We could be hacking up hairballs and have more charisma. I can’t believe you even said that.”
“Some people like the guy. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, they’re wrong.”
“Let’s say for the sake of argument that he did bribe them,” says Audrey. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Maybe,” Mel says.
“No,” Clarissa says.
“You assume that he has bad intentions,” says Audrey, “but maybe he’s trying to mend fences. Or maybe he genuinely sees the potential of Fanged Grapefruit and wants everybody else to see it too.”
“Our perfect night is tainted,” I mutter.
“I disagree,” says Clarissa. “It doesn’t matter how we got an audience. All that matters is that they enjoyed themselves.”
“How do we know he didn’t pay them to pretend that they were enjoying themselves?” I ask.
“Ugh,” says Clarissa.
The four of us are bummed out for the rest of the drive.
16.
After dropping off Clarissa and Mel, it occurs to me that if Blake didn’t bribe the audience members, then he has successfully ruined my night by making me think he did. If that’s the case, then he’s very, very good at this whole life-destroying thing. I have to give him credit for his skills.
Nah. He bribed ’em.
“I apologize for not believing you at school today,” says Audrey.
“Do you believe me now?”
She hesitates. “I believe you more than I did at school.”
“Audrey!”
“What? I still have trouble with the idea of him throwing rat guts in his own face! It doesn’t compute for me!”
“So why are you even apologizing if you still don’t believe me?”
“Because I feel bad.”
“Well, you should.”
“I just want you to consider the idea that if he brought in the audience, he did it out of kindness.”
“He did it out of evil.”
“Which makes more sense? That he convinced people to go to the show—through financial means or whatever—because he was trying to hurt you or because he was trying to help you?”
“The second one makes more sense,” I admit. “And that’s what Blake is counting on. That’s how he operates. If he does things that make no logical sense, then I sound stupid when I accuse him of the truth. It’s kind of genius, if you think about it. But maybe he’s not a genius. Either one of those work. Whichever it is, I promise you that he doesn’t have my best interest or the best interest of Fanged Grapefruit in mind.”
“Okay,” says Audrey.
“What did you mean by that?” I ask suspiciously.
“I meant okay.”
“You said it in a weird way that doesn’t make me think you meant it.”
“Fine. So I didn’t fully commit to the okay.”
“Then don’t commit to the okay. See if I care.”
Audrey stares out the window for a minute. Then she turns back to me. “Blake made me promise not to tell, but I’m going to anyway. You know those band shirts that a couple of people were wearing at the show?”
“Yeah.”
“Blake bought them. He said he knew you didn’t like having him around and that you’d be upset if you found out that he was promoting the show, but he said that he believed in Fanged Grapefruit and wanted to see it succeed, so he was going to do everything he could to help out.”
“So he did bribe them!”
“He gave a few people an incentive to have a good time.”
“I can’t believe you kept Blake’s secret from me!”
“I didn’t. I blabbed it the same night he asked me not to tell. It’s been, like, two hours.”
“Well, this is wonderful. What a treat for me that you’re working with my nemesis. Anything else I should know?”
“We’ll talk about this more when you’re calmer.”
“Oh, goody. I can’t wait to hear how else you betrayed me.”
“I didn’t betray you, Rod. I sold Blake a couple of shirts so that he could help you.”
What about you, reader? Are you on Blake’s side too? You probably think he’s oh-so-charming! Oh, that Blake, what a splendid lad! I think he should be the narrator of this book! Is that what you want? Should I ask him to finish telling this story? We’ll change the title to Blake, Hero of All the Lands, and I bet this book will win all kinds of awards and stay at the top of the New York Times bestseller list for seventy-plus weeks. It’ll get turned into a major motion picture starring Chris Pratt as Blake, and I’ll be played by a CGI ogre. And the reviews will say that the movie isn’t as good as the book because Blake was such an engaging narrator that no movie, even one with Chris Pratt in the lead, can compare! Why am I even still here? I’m done. I’ll switch to a completely different book while we wait for Blake to bring his magnetic personality to these pages.
“Aha!” said Dr. Rubick, the world’s greatest private investigator. “I know who stole the diamond golden coin!”
“Who?” asked his befuddled assistant, Mr. Gout. “Who could it have been? I’ve wracked my brains, but I have nary an idea!”
“It was…” said Dr. Rubick, pointing to Madame Bloom, “her!”
“I guess that makes sense,” said Mr. Gout, “since she’s the only one in the mansion who’s still alive.”
“Yes, I stole the diamond golden coin!” Madame Bloom confessed.
“Are you going to explain your motive and how you did it?” asked Mr. Gout.
“No. I assumed Dr. Rubick was going to do that.”
“Actually, I’ve got
