Live! from Las Vegas

"Hey, what's up?" Stan asked.

"I'm writing June's report to send to Clear Channel," Marty replied.

"There's not much to report, is there?" Stan looked at the screen.

"No, at least not really much of what they're interested in," Marty said. "Of course, last Friday there was the incident with the bat in Vince's office."

Stan laughed. "Oh yeah. He put an old fishing hat on his head so the bat wouldn't make a nest in his hair and started screaming at the top of his lungs."

"Then Consuelo came in and tried to shoo the bat out with a broom, and she wound up whacking Vince," Marty went on.

"Oh boy," Stan said. "I remember he got really mad."

"Yeah. He started growling really loud. Eventually, Animal Control came up and asked where the bear was," Marty said.

"I don't think I was there then," Stan said thoughtfully. "What happened?"

"Well, Vince got mad and wanted to sue," Marty replied. "Animal Control was shocked when they discovered it was a man growling and not a grizzly that had escaped from the zoo. However, I don't think Clear Channel would be interested in that experience," he added.

"Why not?" Stan asked. "It's something that happened."

"I don't think they care what goes on with the engineers, unless they're fired or something like that," Marty said.

Stan went over to the soda machine in the corner. "There's also the incident with the twenty-year root beer that happened on Monday."

Marty nodded. "That was a mess," he said. "Old, sticky soda streaming down Vince's walls . . . He insisted he was going to sue the root beer."

Stan burst out laughing. "That's ridiculous!" he declared.

"I know. Vince was very overwrought. But I didn't think exploding root beer would be of interest to Clear Channel either."

Stan fished around in the soda tray for his Sprite and turned to Marty as he opened it. "Yeah, you're probably right. They're more interested in technical things." He paused. "Of course, there was that technical incident yesterday."

"You mean in the engineer's room?" Marty asked.

Stan nodded. "A loose wire on a dial on the console connected with an electrical cord, which led to a desk lamp. The extra burst of electricity broke the bulb and everything the pieces of broken bulb touched lit up with electricity, and another bolt flew from the broken lamp and shattered the glass in the door."

"Yeah," Marty said. "I think the whole Stratosphere would have had electricity snaking through it if Rufus hadn't told the engineers to turn off the electricity until they could fix the problem."

"That was really weird," Stan commented. "Do you think Clear Channel would be interested in that?"

Marty looked thoughtful. "Maybe," he said finally. "I'd better put it in." He turned back to the screen and resumed typing.

"Hey, when Daisy called in yesterday, she said she'll be coming to Vegas soon," Marty said, changing the subject. "Of course, she'll drop by the Strat to visit."

"Really? Cool," Stan said. "She sent me an Instant Message last night and said she's wrapping up her suspense novel and is looking for a publisher."

"Yeah, that's what she told me, too," Marty said. "She's put us, Jay, and Dan in the story."

"What about Vince?" Stan asked mischievously.

"I don't think she was able to find a place for Vince," Marty replied. "But our parts in the story are pretty big, she said."

"Hey, that's cool," Stan said. "I've never been in a novel before."

"Me either. I'm anxious to read it." Marty turned back to the computer. "I think I've just about finished the report. Now I just have to add the incident today with Cleopatra."

"Cleopatra," Stan repeated, looking puzzled. "Who?"

Marty laughed. "Consuelo's Siamese cat," he stated, never missing a beat typing the report. "Vince was just writing a letter to his sister in 'Frisco when he heard a meow. He looked up and saw a caramel-colored cat with chocolate markings staring down at him from the top of his monitor."

Stan laughed too. "Oh wow. I bet Vince was thrilled."

"He ran to the door and yelled for Consuelo, but she had already left," Marty continued. "He had to keep Cleopatra in his office until she came by to clean the office in the evening."

Stan looked at the report again. "Why would Clear Channel be interested in this incident anymore than the ones you decided to leave out?" he asked.

"I'm coming to that," Marty replied. "Well, Cleopatra was very well-behaved, and when Consuelo took her home, I got the impression that Vince was going to miss her. Anyway, before she left, she wandered into the studio and climbed up on the table and said ‘Meow' into the microphone during Dan's and Jay's show."

Stan laughed again.

"So that's why I would mention it to Clear Channel," Marty finished. "Because she went on the air." He finished typing the story into the computer. "There! All done. Now I just have to print it, drop it in an envelope, seal it, stamp it, and mail it."

As the report printed, Marty decided to go online to check his mail. "I think I'll drop by Daisy's ‘Live from Las Vegas' fanpage a minute," he mused after reading the mail.

"Hey, that's a good idea," Stan agreed.

As the fanpage came up on the screen, Stan noticed the link to the fanfiction archive. "Hey, doesn't Daisy accept fan stories from anyone?"

Marty nodded. "Yeah, sure. She encourages fans to write fanfiction and send it to her. If she approves, she puts it on her page." He glanced curiously at Stan. "Were you thinking of submitting one?"

Stan read over the submission guidelines. "Maybe," he said.

"Type away," Marty said, going over to the printer to get the report.

Once it was in an envelope ready to be mailed, Marty came back over to Stan and the computer. "What are you writing?" he asked, and then stared in shock at the dialogue box, where the words "What are you writing" had appeared.

Marty looked at Stan suspiciously and read silently.

"Marty looked at Stan suspiciously and read silently," appeared in the dialogue box.

"Stan," Marty said, appalled, "are you actually going to send in the story of this lazy day writing the report for Clear Channel?"

Stan nodded. "Yup."

"You wrote about yourself in the third person," Marty observed.

Stan nodded again. "That I did."