The Talent Show

by Vaughan


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Stan was a junior executive. Paige was his personal assistant.
They both fell victim to two supernatural powers: The office
rumor machine and the curse of Ja-Jen Shen.

Neither Stan nor Paige were popular. Stan was classically
handsome but had been voted, in the office, the man most likely to
foul up your project for personal gain. Paige was not quite
beautiful, but better than pretty. She had a reputation for
being uncooperative, She had also been voted, by the men, woman
they would most like to see naked.

The rumor started when Stan's boss' boss said, "Oh yes,
the appraisements are due soon. By the way, see you at the company
talent show." This pair of innocent comments had escalated
to the rumor "You had better do well in the talent show, or
your fired," by the time Stan heard it.

Stan immediately went into a flat spin. The first mistake he
made was to believe the rumor. So the second thing he did wrong
was to enter the talent show. Then his mind cleared enough to
panic about what he was going to do. Singing was out, he could
not carry a tune if it had handles. A comic turn was out as he
knew four jokes, only one of which you might tell in mixed
company if you knew the women were broad-minded. He was going to
have to fall back on his small repertoire of magic tricks. The
problem then was how to improve the presentation as he had done
them all last year. The idea hit him; get a glamorous assistant.
He put the rumor and the idea to Paige.

"But, what about me? How am I meant to impress if I'm
only handing you things? Can't I do something impressive?"
Paige objected.

Stan pondered a moment. "How about if I saw you in
half."

"You don't know how. Besides, I don't want to be sawn in
two," said Paige, petulantly.


"I do know how. It's simple. Any way, It only looks like
you are sawn, you aren't really. All I need to do is get a proper
box and we would need a little practice. That's all, Paige"

"OK, Stan. So long I get a good billing and it doesn't
hurt."

"I'll get right on finding a box," said Stan.

Stan rang round the local magic stores, only to discover that
no-one had a thin model sawing box available in time for the
show. One dealer said he would break a personal rule and give him
the number of someone who might have be able to help.

Stan rang the number and to his surprise get this message
which was on an answer machine.

"This is Ja-Jen Shen, Chinese magic workshop. If you want
to do a deal bring a van and cash to 445b China Terrace at 7pm.
I'll meet you there."

The time was already 6.30. Stan rushed to the company garage
and booked out a van. He drove like a demon across town. His luck was
in, he did not get pulled over. He arrived a China Terrace at a
minute past seven and slowly drove along to find 445b. There
seemed be a gap between 400 and 476 where a tenement had been
demolished, probably months ago.

Stan stopped. The passenger door was opened and in jumped a
small wizened oriental in a dirty white tunic and trousers and
bare feet.

"You're late." said the oriental, "Well, drive
on, third left then second right, and into the yard behind
Johnson's Warehouse."

Surprised by the commanding tone, Stan drove to the yard. The
Chinaman jumped out and shouted, "Follow me!" Stan
follow through a wicket door into an Aladdin's cave of grand
illusion props.

"Stan," the oriental said, "I am Ja-Jen Shen.
How may I help you?"

"I'm after a thin model sawing so I can impress the boss
at the talent show on Friday."

"I see," Mr. Shen paused and scanned the stacks of
props that cluttered the warehouse space. "I apologies that
I do not have a thin model sawing at the present, but may I offer
an alternative."

"Of course," was Stan's response.

In a twinkle Ja-Jen was gone and shortly he returned down an
aisle pushing something that looked like what Stan wanted. On
closer inspection Stan found that the top was not single doors
but double doors, not a problem, and the upper portion had holes
for hands in, that would make it more convincing. Stan was sold.

"You seem satisfied," observed Mr. Shen. "There
is only the matter of payment for hire of the equipment, for one
week. Five hundred dollars, cash, in advance." Ja-Jen held
out his hand. Stan had forgotten about cash and did not carry
such amounts. He was desperate. Stan hit out, knocked the
oriental to the floor and ran to the door with the equipment.

As Stan was loading the illusion into the van, he heard the
oriental shouting in the store. The last thing he heard as he got
into the van to drive away was, "Stan, I curse you, that in
the use of that illusion you and your assistant will get what you
deserve."

Stan went back to the office to return the van and store the
illusion. He felt satisfied and said to himself that he would
give Mr. Shen a cheque for $700 when he returned the illusion.
This he promptly forgot.

The night before the show Stan and Paige practiced. Paige
found it a little difficult to curl up in the top half of the box
with her hands out of the box, but Stan suggested it would be
easier if she wore a dress of a slippy fabric. They also found the
catch to release the fake feet was awkward to release with shoes
on, they decided that Stan would remove Paige's shoes when she got
into the box; it would also make getting her legs in easier. The
also agreed to make the illusion much more dramatic, by putting a
blood bag in the bottom of the box and having Paige scream as if
she was being sawn.

Show night arrived and various employees had warbled, juggled
and joked. Stan felt he did not have much to follow. He
and Paige could top them easily. They had drawn last slot, so
Paige so was nervous that she kept hitching up the top of her off
the shoulder satin gown.

The first half of the performance was only slightly marred
when Paige dropped the shiny glass floating ball.

"And for my next and final trick I shall saw my lovely
assistant Paige in half." There was a collective intake of
breath as Paige rolled the box and table onto the small stage.
Stan had to move his small table to the corner of the stage.

Stan helped Paige lie flat in the box and closed the lids
having packed the skirts into the box and reached through the
holes in the lid to get Paige's hands into place. He put the
stocks in place, took off her shoes, then lifted up the shiny
wood saw he had bought for the occasion.

Stan opened his mouth to ask Paige if she was ready, but to
his surprise said, "Let's give Paige what she
deserves." and immediately began to saw into the box.

Paige screamed, "I'm not ready. My feet are stuck."
Stan thought that she was very good at acting panicked. Then the
teeth of the saw touched Paige's flesh, she shrieked, and Stan
became worried at meeting some resistance, but he found he could
not stop. He kept on sawing and Paige kept screaming and blood
began to flow through the slot in the bottom of the box. When
Stan had completed the cut, he inserted the blades in her middle
and went to tickle her bare feet. The audience was silent, and
Paige was whimpering. When Stan tickled her feet, her reaction
was unexpected. She somehow managed to scream, giggle and swear
all at once. The air turned a rather dark shade of blue. Then
Stan was surprised to find he had his saw in hand again. He began
to saw the table length-ways, starting between Paige's ankles,
When he reached the point where Paige's legs met she began to
scream blue murder again. Stan removed the blades he had put in,
then continue sawing up Paige's middle until he reached the end
of the box, when he proceeded to saw through Paige's neck. He
then put down the saw.

The stunned silence of the audience continued. Stan picked up
Paige's head and placed it on his small table looking at the
audience. Still not in control of his actions Stan placed blades
in each cut and separated the table into four. Each part in turn
he tipped to face the audience and opened the lid exposing the
horrific handy-work. Each part still seemed alive; the toes
twitched and the hands made obscene gestures. Stan then broke the
legs off the table and stacked the parts like a vertical cabinet
with the doors still open then started pulling the blades from
between the separated body parts. The flesh seemed to rejoin and
lose its blood stains but the dress was a mess of shreds so Stan
throw the rags into the wings. The silence was deafening, the
audience was in shock, not wanting to believe what they were
seeing. Paige had lost her voice through screaming. Paige could
not see what was happening to her body, if she had she would have
found a voice from somewhere. Stan went back to Paige's head and
whispered, "Forgive me, but I didn't mean it. Something
took over." He lifted Paige's head, kissed it on the lips and
replaced it on Paige's neck.

With her body full re-assembled Paige let out a scream, ripped
the stocks restraining her neck and ankles from the box, leapt
off the stage and ran from the hall totally naked. She stopped
only once to throw the still intact blood bag at Stan.

The final outcome of the talent show is unimportant; suffice
to say, Stan is no longer an executive of any sort, neither is
Paige, but both got what they deserved.

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The End