{"id":2571,"date":"2012-05-23T08:35:52","date_gmt":"2012-05-23T12:35:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/wpblog\/?p=2571"},"modified":"2012-07-30T15:26:16","modified_gmt":"2012-07-30T19:26:16","slug":"upgrading-donny-desmond-by-gary-anderson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/upgrading-donny-desmond-by-gary-anderson\/","title":{"rendered":"Upgrading Donny Desmond"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The colored lights strobed a lacquery finish over the finale as Donny Desmond stepped to the microphone to hit the high C that began his trademark riff\u2014sliding incrementally down an octave like someone stumbling down a flight of stairs, albeit with style and grace, to end the biggest hit song of the Desmond Brother\u2019s career: One Bad Banana (Don\u2019t Blow the Whole Bunch Girl)<\/em>. But tonight as Donny ratcheted up his golden pipes and sent a blast of air from his diaphragm up to the twin folds of mucous membrane stretched over his larynx, his voice cracked. Almost inaudible, but a crack just the same. To his horror, along with the high C came the tiniest bark, escaping out over the near hysterical crowd.<\/p>\n

Donny stepped back and glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. His brothers were busy bowing and waving and scribbling their names on anatomically suggestive blow-up bananas (something Donny, too, was contractually obligated to do according to the Desmond Brothers\u2019 product endorsement agreement with Chiquilla Bananas, but he was too shaken up to sign anything). Donny scanned the wings for David Shapiro. Sure enough, their manager was standing there in the characteristically fixed way that had earned him the nickname \u201cLog\u201d among the brothers. Beside him, Donny 2.0 flashed a perfect Desmond Brothers\u2019 smile. Donny frowned, convinced that the doppelganger had heard it, the crack. He exited stage left, the sequined bell-bottoms of his retro-chic jumpsuit flapping like all sails in the wind, and sprinted to his dressing room. Fifteen minutes later, he skulked from the back door of the stadium and slid into a long black limousine.<\/p>\n

The next day, David Shapiro called him into the Desmond Brothers\u2019 sound studios. It was not uncommon for the manager to be re-mixing music from the previous night\u2019s live performance, but it was odd for Shapiro to call him, Donny, in. He sat and waited until Log made it clear that he was good and ready to explain this rather strange order of business to the twelve-year-old heartthrob. Shapiro hit a button on the board and the sound of Donny\u2019s cracked high C blared from the speakers. \u201cDid you hear that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHear what?\u201d said Donny.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat,\u201d said Shapiro, hitting the button again. \u201cThat is the sound of tearing fabric\u2014the fabric that holds the Desmond Brothers together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat wasn\u2019t tearing fabric. My throat was dry. That\u2019s all it was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, that\u2019s not it. Your voice is changing. You know it and I know it. And it\u2019s only going to get worse. Do you know what that means?\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny knew what it meant, but he couldn\u2019t bring himself to say it.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat means your time is up. That means upgrade.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny slumped down in his seat. \u201cBut it\u2019s too soon. I\u2019m just starting to like being a superstar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the point,\u201d said Shapiro. \u201cIn order for you to remain a superstar we have to upgrade you with Donny 2.0. You can\u2019t be the lead singer for the Desmond Brothers once your voice has changed. People pay to hear Donny Desmond sing One Bad Banana<\/em> in that clear-as-a-bell voice of his. They don\u2019t want to hear some frog-like baritone groping for the high notes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Donny 2.0\u2019s voice is going to change, too\u2014sometime.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. And when it does, he\u2019ll be upgraded with Donny 3.0. It\u2019s that simple. Donny Desmond will always be an eleven-year-old boy. And I don\u2019t mean just in the hearts, minds, and memories of his fans. I mean, quite literally, Donny Desmond will always<\/em> be eleven.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut it\u2019s not fair. It\u2019s not right. I\u2019m Donny Desmond.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d like to think that were true. But you are just the product of your DNA, as is Donny 2.0, 3.0, 4.0 and so on. And it is<\/em> fair. You signed the agreement.\u201d Shapiro flipped a document into Donny\u2019s lap. Donny read the title: WAIVER OF DNA EXCLUSIVITY. His eye dropped to the bottom of the document and to the name scribbled there. The happy-face \u201cO\u201d and the curly-Q \u201cY\u201d could be no one else\u2019s but his.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook at it this way. Don\u2019t you want the Desmond Brothers to still be famous in fifty, a hundred, even two hundred years from now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. I guess so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, this is the only way to ensure that your fame will go on in perpetuity.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut what\u2019s going to happen to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got two options. You can go it alone\u2014but I\u2019ve got to warn you, it\u2019s tough out there for used stars. You could end up an addict and a drunk. If you\u2019re lucky, really lucky, you might talk someone in to giving you a radio show. But that\u2019s about as good as it will ever get for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the second option?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can set you up as a domestic servant for a rich family in China. They pay top dollar to be served by used American stars.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny pushed through the door of the practice room, only to find the Brothers\u2014Albert, Shayne, Daryl, and Ray\u2014practicing some choreographed dance steps with Donny 2.0. The silence was pregnant with filial regret. Finally, Donny spoke. \u201cI just wanted to say bye. That\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook Donny,\u201d It was Albert, always the direct one, always the one in charge. \u201cWe\u2019re sorry about this. But that\u2019s the way it has to be. We all signed the same agreement. One day we\u2019ll all be upgraded too. That\u2019s just show biz, little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny\u2019s eyes stung. He raised one hand and let it flap up and down in a weak farewell gesture. Then turning on the heels of his purple suede zip-up ankle boots, he rushed from the room in a teary Diva\u2019s exit. He may very well have been heartbroken had he not right then been so rankled by the smirk on Donny 2.0\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

\u00a0As far as Donny could tell, the Chen\u2019s were a nice family who smiled a lot. Shapiro had been right about one thing\u2014they were rich, richer than the Desmond Brothers could ever hope to be. The luxury harbor-front Hong Kong apartment alone must have cost a fortune. He still wasn\u2019t sure exactly how Mr. Chen made his money, but from what he\u2019d been told, the Chinese inventor had managed to solve China\u2019s water shortage problem by programming an artificial hydrologic cycle to suck fresh water from the Great Lakes into immense clouds that would then carry the water to mainland China and rain down their precious load like so many squeezed sponges. Even after hearing this befuddling explanation from one of the other domestics, Donny still wondered how someone could get rich off water.<\/p>\n

Donny was one of three domestic servants in the Chen household. The others were also used American stars. Lady Haha was the maid. In her former life, she had been the undisputed queen of glam-pop. That is, until she bought a house and started decorating. Rumors of ribboned knickknacks and quilted pillows began to circulate through the music industry like dirty little secrets. But things really fell apart after the paparazzi snapped photos of her wearing frilly pink slippers and a cotton nightgown \u00e0 la Mary Ellen Walton buttoned to the collar. Claiming that she had lost her edge and that she no longer possessed the power to offend, her agency put her out to pasture and upgraded her with Lady Haha 2.0.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what really hurt the most?\u201d said Haha. \u201cThey accused me of being normal<\/em>. Me! Normal! Insensitive Bastards!\u201d She waved her feather duster in some imaginary record executive\u2019s face. Donny took a step back.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s better than being called old,\u201d said the cook. Marlo Shreep had once been a famous movie actress known for her challenging roles. She bore the remnants of a cinema queen, but traces of her former royal self were cloistered in frumpish clothes, streaks of gray, and increasingly vague features. \u201cWhat happened to the good old days in Hollywood when an actor was more than a warm body eternally in its prime?\u201d She pinched basil into a languidly bubbling marinara sauce. \u201cIn those days you could age, grow, mature, fine-tune the thespian\u2019s craft. That\u2019s when respect trumped adoration.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Marlo,\u201d said Haha. \u201cHollywood was the nip-and-tuck capital of the world. A Mecca of Frankensteins.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, yes, I suppose that\u2019s true. Nip-and-tuck was a game we all played. But we all knew it was a game, one that could not be won in the long run. Well, most of us knew, anyway. Some were more defiant than others. My point is back then no one was waiting in the wings to upgrade you. That was before the Waiver of DNA Exclusivity agreement spread through Hollywood like a virus. I am old enough to remember being turned down by agency after agency because I refused to sign the agreement. In the end, I was left with no alternative.\u201d She raised a wok and gazed at her warped reflection. Then her sad eyes turned to Donny. She stroked his shaggy brown locks. \u201cBut look at you, poor boy. It all happened before you were even born. You were doomed from the start and now all you have to look forward to is a life of servitude, which, I must warn you, is difficult after you\u2019ve tasted the delights of superstardom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, poor kid,\u201d said Haha. \u201cWhat are you? Twelve? Thirteen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwelve,\u201d said Donny with a tell-tale squawk. \u201cThey upgraded me with Donny 2.0 when my voice started to change.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSuch a tragedy,\u201d said Marlo Shreep.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat just ain\u2019t right,\u201d said Haha. \u201cUpgrading a kid like that. Somebody should do something about that.\u201d Lady Haha was working herself up to one of her formerly infamous tantrums. \u201cWe should all do something about it,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Even Marlo Shreep felt a sour twang in the pit of her stomach. \u201cYou\u2019re right! We should do something about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Just as tempers were starting to flare, Mr. Chen entered the kitchen. \u201cPlease return to your work, used American stars,\u201d he said with a smile.<\/p>\n

Donny\u2019s arrival stirred something in Lady Haha and Marlo Shreep, opened old wounds. He sensed this. The two former superstars now went about their work with a marked lack of zeal. And they were testy and just plain miserable to be around. Donny, on the other hand, did not find his life of servitude unbearable but instead found it to be surprisingly satisfying. Certainly, there were none of the pressures associated with superstardom. No dance steps to learn, no press conferences or record executives. And Donny, it turned out, had proven himself to be a sensible butler and an adequate driver. Admittedly, driving in Hong Kong was a frightening experience and took every scrap of courage the pubescent twelve year old could muster, especially given the fact that he should rightly have been behind the bars of a bicycle and not behind the wheel of a car. Despite this, he had managed to avoid serious mishap, mainly because speedwise, he drove as if he were indeed behind the bars of a bicycle and not the wheel of a car.<\/p>\n

But Donny\u2019s spirits would not remain high for long. Everything changed on the evening of December 31, while he, Haha, and Marlo sat in the servant\u2019s quarters watching Dick Clarke\u2019s Rockin\u2019 New Year\u2019s Eve. There, on an immense state-of-the-art plasma-photon super-S flat screen TV, quite literally bigger than life, Donny watched the Desmond Brothers performing live in Times Square. His jaw dropped open, and something in him snapped, as Donny 2.0 brought One Bad Banana<\/em> to a dazzling conclusion with a perfectly executed high C riff\u2014Donny\u2019s trademark high C riff.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh my, God!\u201d said Haha. \u201cHe is<\/em> good.\u201d Marlo drove an elbow into the former queen of glam-pop\u2019s ribs. \u201cI mean, he\u2019s good, but not that<\/em> good.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny rushed from the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cDonny, wait. I\u2019m sorry, all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd they said you no longer possess the power to offend,\u201d said Marlo, gulping down her third glass of wine.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up, Marlo! You\u2019re sloshed again!\u201d Lady Haha got off the sofa and went in search of Donny. She found him stuffing clothes into a suitcase.<\/p>\n

\u201cHold on. You\u2019re not doing what I think you\u2019re doing,\u201d said Haha. \u201cAre you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess that depends what you think I\u2019m doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, leaving, for one thing,\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny carefully folded his favorite pair of purple Spiderman underwear then stuffed them into the suitcase.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHome? You\u2019ve got no home now. It\u2019s Donny 2.0\u2019s home now. You don\u2019t even really exist. You\u2019re used. A sub-grade replica. You\u2019ve been upgraded.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to do something!\u201d said Donny, starting off strong but ending with a dull chirp. Marlo now stood in the doorway with a fresh glass of wine, having spilled most of the previous glass down the front of her blouse.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, okay,\u201d said Lady Haha. \u201cLet\u2019s all do something, then!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat exactly do you have in mind,\u201d said Marlo.<\/p>\n

\u201cRevenge,\u201d said Haha, grinning so crookedly it looked as if she were right then having a mini-stroke.<\/p>\n

\u201cRevenge?\u201d said Donny.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, revenge,\u201d said Lady Haha<\/p>\n

\u201cFuckin\u2019 A\u201d said Marlo Shreep.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

With a scarf wrapped around her head, wearing dark Jackie O sunglasses and sweating kaleidoscopic mudslides of makeup, Marlo Shreep looked just enough like her former self to get them onto the Warner lot. Marlo 3.0 was filming a World War II movie, in which she played an Icelandic lesbian Jew with cerebral palsy who leads the Liberation South arm of the French Resistance by traveling through the Vichy France countryside concealed in the back of a rickety hay wagon.<\/p>\n

Marlo stuck her head inside the soundstage. Filming had wrapped for the day. She gave Lady Haha and Donny a silent thumbs-up. Together, they weaved through the movie crew who stood outside smoking and drinking green tea latt\u00e9s and generally doing nothing constructive. The sight of Marlo with Donny and Lady Haha in tow seemed to arouse no suspicions.<\/p>\n

They kept walking until they came upon a double wide trailer with the sign Ms. Shreep<\/em> on the door. Marlo skipped up the stairs and entered without knocking. Haha and Donny followed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch the door,\u201d Marlo said to Donny.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean watch the door?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou haven\u2019t seen much TV have you kid?\u201d said Haha.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, not really. There was never time for TV.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I say watch the door, I mean watch the door to see if anyone\u2019s coming.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d said Donny. \u201cBut I don\u2019t want to watch the door. I want to see what\u2019s going on inside. I\u2019m a part of this too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright. But be quiet.\u201d<\/p>\n

They found Marlo 3.0 on the floor, passed out in a puddle of milky pink vomit. Empty wine bottles were everywhere. Marlo lifted the head of her upgraded self in a fistful of blond hair then let it drop to the floor with a wet splat. \u201cNever could hold my liquor,\u201d she said. Then pulling a blue chrome revolver from her purse, Marlo Shreep pressed it to the back of Marlo 3.0\u2019s head and cocked the hammer. Donny held his breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait,\u201d said Haha. \u201cUse this.\u201d She tossed a pillow.<\/p>\n

Marlo Shreep pushed the pillow against the head of her upgraded self. \u201cThis is for stealing my life,\u201d she said and pulled the trigger.<\/p>\n

They went for lunch at a franchise sandwich restaurant since a good sandwich is hard to find in Hong Kong. Marlo was uncharacteristically quiet, gnawing on her vegetarian whole wheat hoagie. Lady Haha kept going on about the way Marlo Shreep 3.0\u2019s brains had hit the walls like meat stucco. \u201cI can\u2019t wait to get my hands on Lady Haha 2.0,\u201d she said, stuffing an onion back into the side of her mouth. \u201cI don\u2019t know how I\u2019m gonna do her yet. But it\u2019s gonna be great. What about you Donny? You thought about how you\u2019re gonna do Donny 2.0?\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny just shrugged and kept chewing.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, you two!\u201d said Haha \u201cWho died?\u201d She snorted loudly.<\/p>\n

Marlo set down her sandwich. \u201cI\u2019m not going to New York with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny raised his head for the first time since they\u2019d sat down.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? What do you mean?\u201d said Haha. \u201cYou have to. We\u2019re a team. This is our plan. You can\u2019t bail out now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d said Donny.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. Maybe I\u2019ll go south to Mexico and find a nice beach. Live out the rest of my life in the sun.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s happened to you? You\u2019re talking like an old lady.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am an old\u2014older<\/em> lady. I just didn\u2019t realize it until now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGreat! Now you\u2019re an old lady. So, screw the plan. Screw the rest of us, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what, Haha? I liked you better before. And I don\u2019t mean before you were upgraded, I mean before all this revenge stuff started. I liked you better as a plain old maid in Hong Kong.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh really? That\u2019s how you really feel?\u201d Haha stood, picked up her supersized diet cola, and made to toss it in Marlo\u2019s face. Only when this rash act did not end with the dousing she\u2019d expected did Haha realize that the plastic lid was still on the cup. She cursed and grabbed Donny by the arm. \u201cCome on. We\u2019re getting out of here,\u201d she said. \u201cWe got a flight to catch.\u201d<\/p>\n

They took a taxi from JFK to her West 52nd<\/sup> Street condo. It appeared from the ragtag parade of socialites, artists, and unabashed opportunists making their way into the building that a party was going on at her place. \u201cSome things never change,\u201d said Haha. She unbuttoned her jacket exposing the makeshift outfit she\u2019d pulled from a dumpster behind Taco Bell. Nacho grande platters concealed either breast and a cinnamon twists packet managed to obscure most of her mons pubis<\/em>. The scant ensemble was strung together with gold happy-birthday tinsel. Haha clutched Donny\u2019s hand and pushed through the entrance, taking the doorman Rupert by surprise. \u201cLady Haha, Ma\u2019am! But I thought you were at home already.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was, Rupert. I slipped out to get my nephew. Say hello to Donny.\u201d They brushed by the doorman before he had time to respond.<\/p>\n

The door was open and the music of Lady Haha 2.0 drained out into the hallway. Inside, people in various stages of undress snorted this and that before flopping onto the scrum of human flesh in the middle of the room. Haha and Donny found Lady Haha 2.0 in the bedroom. Her well-publicized predilection for jocks was all-too-apparent. A professional baseball player, a professional basketball player, a semi-professional jockey, and an adequate polo player were all tied to the bed, each in a way demeaning to his chosen sport. Lady Haha 2.0 was stuffing sugar cubes into the jockey\u2019s anus. She twirled around, only to behold a startling vision of herself standing in the doorway in a Taco-Bell-chic outfit.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, well, well,\u201d said Lady Haha 2.0. \u201cLook who\u2019s come home to roost. The maid gig is not working out well for you, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou bitch!\u201d Haha picked up a Herculean strap-on dildo and charged. \u201cI\u2019ll kill you!\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny watched, horrified, as Haha pummeled her upgraded self with a sexual apparatus meant to bring pleasure (and maybe a little pain). Through it all, the athletes cringed and whimpered. Haha landed blow after blow, each with the righteous rage of her undoing, until the dildo was dripping with blood and Lady Haha 2.0 lay lifeless at her feet.<\/p>\n

The diner teemed with nighthawks and insomniac accountants about to turn to stone in the first light of day. Haha sat down with coffee, hot chocolate, and a newspaper. Donny thanked her. \u201cDon\u2019t mention it,\u201d she said. \u201cThat was quite something, don\u2019t ya think? I mean, what a rush. Thump! Thump! Thump!\u201d<\/p>\n

The brutal beating was all Donny had been able to think about. For the first time, he began to wonder what he\u2019d gotten himself into, and if he could ever get himself out. Just as he was about to voice his concerns, Haha snapped open the newspaper on the table and dropped a finger on it. \u201cWould you look at that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny read the byline beneath her finger: Donny Desmond to Receive Honorary PhD from Princeton University<\/em>. He felt his head wobble unsteadily on his neck. The bile in his gut churned into a hot magma. He skimmed the article.\u00a0 . . . for overwhelming contributions to the field of music . . . for possessing more plain old pizzazz than any singer since Sinatra . . . this purple-paisley-clad Orpheus . . . this legendary man-boy . . . <\/em><\/p>\n

He could read no further. All the anger, hatred, and resentment that he had been suppressing finally erupted, charring all that was decent and human within him. Donny could feel his eyes smolder in their sockets and his tongue blaze between scorched teeth. He could feel his heart go black in his chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is happening tonight,\u201d said Haha. \u201cIt seems that luck is with us my little singing cherub.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny insisted on driving. Believing him best not trifled with in his present mood, Haha acquiesced. But by the time they\u2019d reached the Garden State Parkway exit, Haha was a nervous wreck. She demanded that Donny relinquish the wheel, complaining that at fifteen miles per hour it would take the whole day to get there.<\/p>\n

Fifty minutes later, they had parked the rental car and were in search of Nassau Hall. According to Haha\u2019s plan, they would abduct Donny 2.0 before the ceremony and take him to a secluded spot. \u201cWhich secluded spot?\u201d said Donny.<\/p>\n

\u201cGoddamnit! Any secluded spot will do,\u201d said Haha.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, a long black limo passed them and eased to a halt up ahead. The driver trotted around the car and opened a door. From the limo emerged a familiar figure\u2014puffy hair, short and plumpish in a baby-fat kind of way. \u201cThere he is,\u201d said Haha. \u201cAnd he\u2019s alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny felt light-headed, until he realized that he was holding his breath. He exhaled loudly. Watching Donny 2.0 stroll with such carefree ease to Nassau Hall to receive an award that should\u2019ve rightfully been his caused his anger to go from simmer to boil in the space of a nanosecond.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s now or never,\u201d said Haha. She pulled a gleaming butcher knife from her purse and handed it to him. \u201cI came prepared. Now let\u2019s go cut him good.\u201d<\/p>\n

They followed Donny 2.0, waiting for the right moment to put their plan into action. The pair gagged and blindfolded him as he rounded a corner alone then pulled him kicking and screaming into Nassau Hall. They forced Donny 2.0 up the narrow stairs into the bell tower at knife point. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d he kept asking. \u201cIs it money? I have money.\u201d Donny 2.0 started to snivel. \u201cPlease don\u2019t kill me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny delighted in this shameful show of cowardice. He relished the moment.<\/p>\n

Lady Haha tugged hard and the blindfold came loose. Donny 2.0 shook his head and looked up, squinting at the shimmering reflection of the afternoon sun as it played on the contours of the brass bell. Then his eyes opened wide. \u201cDonny? I don\u2019t understand. What are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does it look like he\u2019s doing?\u201d said Haha. \u201cGetting even.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny stepped forward and held out the knife, not with real conviction but not without intent, either. Donny 2.0 turned white. \u201cI know you must be angry about the upgrade, but it wasn\u2019t me. You know that, right? It was all Log. He\u2019s the one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSave your breath,\u201d said Haha. Turning to Donny: \u201cDo him! Cut him now!\u201d<\/p>\n

From outside came the squawk and fart of a brass band beginning to tune up.<\/p>\n

Donny raised the knife high above his upgraded self. But he hesitated and made the mistake of looking his victim in the eyes. Gazing upon his own genetically produced doppelganger, Donny felt his resolve crumbling, until finally he knew he couldn\u2019t do it. Donny 2.0 was right. He was a pawn. They were all just pawns. Killing him wouldn\u2019t change anything. It wouldn\u2019t bring back his glory days with the Desmond Brothers and it wouldn\u2019t bring down Shapiro. If he were to kill Donny 2.0, by this time next week, Donny 3.0 would be singing One Bad Banana<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo it!\u201d said Haha. \u201cCut him, you little shit, or I will!\u201d Lady Haha took two steps at Donny and grabbed the knife. But Donny clung desperately to it. What followed was an awkward dance of life and death, banging off the walls of the cupola and rattling the bell\u2019s clapper. Donny pushed and pulled and Haha jerked and tugged. In one final bid to save the life of Donny 2.0, Donny yanked with all his might. But Haha refused to be bested by a used pubescent heartthrob. She yanked back and the knife slipped from Donny\u2019s grip. Haha plunged it into her own chest. She made a sour face. She grimaced and cursed.<\/p>\n

\u201cGoddamnit, Donny! Look what you\u2019ve done. You\u2019ve killed me . . . me . . . Lady\u2014\u201d She crumbled to the floor in a lifeless heap of last-year\u2019s fashion trends.<\/p>\n

Donny knelt over Lady Haha, trembling, dumbfounded by how badly things had gone. He eased the knife from Haha\u2019s chest. This wasn\u2019t the way it was supposed to be. Not at all. And this wasn\u2019t the way he was supposed to be feeling.<\/p>\n

Then he heard a snicker behind him. Then a breathy refrain drifted to his ear, building and building, louder and louder. Donny dropped his head onto his chest and listened to the chorus of One Bad Banana<\/em>. He gripped the knife tightly. His knuckles popped one by one. And when Donny 2.0 reached for the final high C note, instead of ringing out like a bell, it gurgled from his throat, a bloody riff down the front of his ruffled white shirt.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Donny Desmond pushed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. He sucked hard then blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. The steel door of the cell rattled open and a hulking guard with a seriously cleft Habsburg jaw stood in the doorway.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnother visitor for you, Desmond,\u201d said the guard. \u201cThat\u2019s two this week already. First the old broad and now this guy. Aren\u2019t you the popular one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, lucky me,\u201d said Donny. He tossed the cigarette into the toilet. \u201cAnd the old broad<\/em> has a name.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever.\u201d The guard stood to one side, letting Donny pass before slamming the door. \u201cShe looked familiar. Didn\u2019t she used to be famous or on TV or something?\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny took a moment to consider how best to answer this question. It turned out that Marlo never did make it to Mexico. She was living like a hick somewhere in the hills of Vermont, hiding out from the law. \u201cHer? Famous? You\u2019re joking, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny was expecting his lawyer, so he was surprised when he strolled into the visiting room and saw Albert slouched behind the Plexiglas. He hadn\u2019t set eyes on any of his brothers since the day he was upgraded. That was almost ten years ago. Albert smiled. Not the same dazzling Desmond smile it had once been, but a smile just the same. Albert picked up the phone. \u201cHey little brother,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey,\u201d said Donny.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look good.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny suddenly found himself ill at ease under his shaved oily head and behind the tidy black soul patch beneath his lip. He folded his arms awkwardly in an attempt to cover a graffiti of prison tattoos.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow are things?\u201d said Albert.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs good as can be expected.\u201d Donny squirmed in his seat. \u201cI saw the Desmond Brothers on Good Morning America<\/em> the other day. Back together, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, well, it looked like it might really be the end of the Desmond Brothers after you ran over the Log. But I was recently upgraded, so I took the reins. So far, this managing stuff seems to be working out well.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donny still dreamed about the hit-and-run. Every night after lights out, he got out of juvie, drove across two states, and ran his old manager down\u2014killed him like a dog in the street. And every morning Donny woke with a smile on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s been a tough road for you, Donny,\u201d said Albert. \u201cWith all the lawyers and trials. The juvenile detention and now this\u2014jail. I guess what I\u2019m trying to say is I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a time when Donny may have got weepy, hearing this from his eldest brother, the one he had admired most. But that time was long gone, buried in the unhallowed ground of his past. Buried deep like the two dead bodies he\u2019d put there. \u201cI\u2019m doing okay. I got something going on in here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGoing on? You mean musically?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, musically.\u201d Donny motioned to a platinum-blond beefcake leaning against the back wall. Enema-Z was a hiphopper who was upgraded after he developed a speech impediment from a split lip that had occurred in a nightclub brawl with gangsta Whoop-dee-doo over the proper syllabic stress of muthafucka<\/em>, the former arguing for MUthafucka<\/em> and the latter arguing for muthafuckA<\/em>. \u201cWe\u2019ve been working on some tunes together. Seems we got a good vibe going on. Maybe we\u2019ll do the jailhouse circuit. Who knows?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s terrific, Donny.\u201d<\/p>\n

A silence rolled in like a dense bank fog between them, obscuring everything\u2014erasing faces, names, dates, places. Until the two brothers who sat opposite each other realized they didn\u2019t know one another at all. They were total strangers. Donny wondered if maybe they always had been.<\/p>\n

\u201cVisiting time is over,\u201d said the guard. \u201cAll inmates return to their cells.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n

Donny hesitated, as if he might say something but didn\u2019t. Instead, he hung up the phone. He rose and nodded. Albert smiled. Then Donny Desmond turned and walked through the door that led back to his cell, his home, and his new life.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

—-<\/p>\n

Gary Anderson is a full-time test developer and editor, living and working in New Jersey. His poetry and fiction have appeared in a number of magazines, including Fiddlehead, Antigonish Review, Prairie Fire, Event, Umbrella Factory, and CV2. His first novel,\u00a0Animal Magnet<\/em>, was published in July 2011 by Emmerson Street Press in Thunder Bay. His second novel,\u00a0Best of All Possible Worlds,<\/em>\u00a0will be published by WordsworthGreenwich Press in May 2012.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The colored lights strobed a lacquery finish over the finale as Donny Desmond stepped to the microphone to hit the high C that began his trademark riff\u2014sliding incrementally down an octave like someone stumbling down a flight of stairs, albeit with style and grace, to end the biggest hit song of the Desmond Brother\u2019s career: […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":38,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,200,223,219,220],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2571"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/38"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2571"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2571\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3622,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2571\/revisions\/3622"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2571"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2571"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2571"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}