“First message sent at 19:00… Hey Ray, I mean Elvis. This is Zach from the Chapel D’amour. Just reminding you that you swapped shifts with Cody, so you’re the Elvis for tonight. Looks like an easy gig. We’ve only got two weddings booked for you, but you know what it can get like on a Saturday. You start at ten, buddy. That’s twenty-two hundred hours. Sharp. See you then”
Oh. Fuck. He’d completely forgotten. He looked over at the bed. The rumpled satin sheets barely covered the sleeping bodies of the twins from the casino bar. Carbon copies man. Nice! One of them muttered and rolled over, her tousled blond hair spread across the pillow. Her arm dropped over the bared breasts of her sister. Beautiful, firm breasts. Ray felt himself stirring. Hell yeah. That was definitely worth missing my shift. Who da man? I da man.
“Next message sent at 22:10… Hey Elvis old buddy. Your shift started ten minutes ago. No biggie yet, but your first wedding is booked at eleven man. Get here pronto.”
Ray looked at his watch. This was almost twelve hours ago. Shit-a-brick, man. Zach was gonna be pissed! Ray scooched forward on the overstuffed dark couch. His naked buttocks squeaked across the leather. He leaned over the glass coffee table, the surface dusted with white powder. He set the phone to speaker, placed it on the edge of the table and picked up the gold card from the floor at his feet.
“Next message sent at 22:55…. Fuck dude. Where the hell are you? The party’s arrived and we’re waiting on you. You’re not the only Elvis in town you know.”
He picked up the curled banknote, rerolled it into a tight straw and leaned over the table for a snort. Oh yeah. That’s better. Only slightly, but better. It still felt like, during the night, some bastard had snuck in and stuck a sub-woofer in his head.
“Next message sent at 23:21…. Dude. They’re still here. I tried to fob them off with Marilyn but they want an Elvis to officiate. I’ll fucking kill you for this. I phoned around but all the other impersonators are booked for tonight, and Cody’s already most of the way to his folks place in Mesquite. Get your sorry ass down here.”
Ok Zach, get over yourself buddy. A couple of weddings – a little bit of profit, Ray knew he’d be made to pay some of the lost income anyway.
“Next message sent at 23:47…. Alright you wanker. We’ve got three crowds here. The first lot is rolling drunk now. The groom reckons that the bride is a slut and she’s been shagging his best man. The second lot arrived already pissed and they’re joining in the bickering, and we’ve got a couple of walk-ins who’ve apparently had a great night on the tables. Dude. Please just pick up the damn phone. I’ll double the pay.”
Ray laughed. His head regretted it. He did another line.
“Next message sent at 00:12…. You are so fucking fired you asshole. This has gone seriously pear-shaped. The bride of the first party, the one the dude was calling a slut was just found by her groom fucking groom three in the back of the pink Caddy. Groom two and the best man of groom one were getting it on in the bushes round the back. Bride two is crying her bloody eyes out, and we can’t find bride three or the father of bride one. Everyone else is piling into each other in a fucking epic battle. Fuck man. Someone’s smashed the stained glass fucking windows now. You prick. This is coming out of your wages.”
Holy fuck in a handcart. Ray scooped up his scattered clothes, the sparkling jumpsuit and his coiffeured wig. He was seriously for it now.
“Next message sent at 00:26…. The cops are here now. 6 people are on their way to the ER, and someone’s set fire to the fucking chapel. You will never work in this town again asshole.”
Ray knew he was right. He looked at the sleeping girls, so peaceful. He looked at the gold card still in his hand. Fuck knows whose it is, but it’s a guy’s name. I can be hours away before they notice it’s missing. He left the phone and slipped into the hotel corridor. Elvis has left the building.