It was a dress rehearsal at the WYZT studio for the Corny Collins Show, and everyone was exhausted. They had done all the twirling, twisting, prancing, dancing, jumping, spinning that they could handle. If that wasn't enough, they had to do all of this in their costumes for the Christmas Pageant, which was taking place the next day. Sweat clung to their bodies and a sickening odor of hairspray and perspiration hung in the air, making their eyes water.
"Break," Noreen grumbled, falling to her knees with dramatic effort. "We need…a break." She clutched her neck, making choking noises. The bells around her collar jingled. "Water…so…thirsty."
Corny rolled his eyes, as did everyone else. They were tired, but come on.
"Fine," the host finally gave in. Everyone gave a sigh of relief and made their way off the stage.
"But only five minutes," Corny added, much to the disappointment of his crew. "I don't think all of you have the dance down yet."
Amber crossed her arms in annoyance. "Why don't you just make them practice it, then?"
"Considering you're one of the people that still need practice, Amber," Corny said. "I don't think you're in any position to complain. And all of you should be working on this together—that's how it's going to be in the Christmas Pageant, isn't it? All of you dancing together. It doesn't make sense for just some people to be practicing."
"Fine," Amber spat, pulling on a loose thread on her elf costume. "I understand, Corny."
"Hey, Corny?" Tracy asked, walking over to his spot on the elevated stage. Seaweed was following closely behind. "Can we talk to you about something?"
"Of course," Corny said.
"Well…" Tracy started. "Do I have to wear this costume?"
"What's the matter with it?"
"I can't exactly…dance in it," Tracy said, shaking her head. "I mean, I can, technically, but it's awfully uncomfortable. And I look kind of ridiculous—"
"Aw, Tracy," Corny said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You look swell!"
"Corny," Tracy said, a look of exasperation on her face. "I'm a Christmas Tree. My costume is a dress with leaves, pinecones, and ornaments glued onto it. And a star hat on my head! A star hat!"
Corny cringed. "Well, I can see where you're coming from, really. But it's not that bad."
"See these lights?" Seaweed asked, motioning to the wiring that was wrapped around Tracy's dress.
Corny nodded
"They work," Seaweed mumbled, flicking a switch on the back of the dress. Sure enough, flashes of red and orange and green erupted from the little glass bulbs.
Corny raised his eyebrows, and Seaweed nodded his head. "I rest my case."
"Oh," Corny said. "Well…that's even a little too tacky for my taste. But, Tracy, you did volunteer to be the tree. You can't just drop out of your promises because you don't like them. I mean, look at me! I have to be Santa Claus! This beard is the itchiest son of a—!"
"I guess you're right," Tracy interrupted. "I should stick to my promises. I'll be the Christmas Tree."
"That's my girl!" Corny said, patting her on the back. He was just turning to leave when Seaweed called for him to stay.
"Corny," he said. "I'm having an issue with these tights." Seaweed tugged at the green-and-red-striped stockings that were wrapped around his legs. "They're...chafing. In certain areas."
Tracy nodded in agreement. "Link went into the bathroom to take his off; he said he can't even move."
"Were these made for chicks, or something?" Seaweed asked, once again prodding at his costume.
"Oh," Corny grimaced. "Sorry. The costume department went out and bought twenty elf costumes for the Council—I don't think they took measurements or anything. You might want to talk to them about that."
Seaweed nodded grimly, and he waddled off with Tracy to go find where the costume department was. Corny rested his head against the podium in front of him, drained from having to deal with teenager drama. He was finally alone in the studio; Seaweed and Tracy were the last to leave. Now, at last, he could relax; at least for five minutes…
"Corny!" Amber shrieked, and Corny groaned. The blonde marched up to his pedestal, arms placed firmly on her hips.
"We need to talk camera time," she told him. Corny rolled his eyes.
"No, we really don't, Amber," Corny said. "I've already talked it over with the cameraman. You know, the one person that actually has to know where the camera's going."
Amber scoffed. "I have to know, too! I mean, if I'm going to be seen in this hideous," she clutched at her dress, "disaster, I might as well know when the camera's supposed to be on me. That way, maybe, just maybe, I can make this seamstress mistake work."
"Don't be like that, Amber," Corny said, running a hand through his stiff hair.
"Give it up, Corny," Amber spat. "You have no idea what you're doing. I don't know why Mr. Spritzer doesn't just fire you already."
"You know what, Amber?" Corny said, raising his voice. He was about to scold her when the door behind them opened. The host spun around to see who it was; when he did, he wished he hadn't. Amber, on the other hand, was euphoric.
"I wouldn't finish that thought if I were you. That is, if you want to keep your job."
He closed his eyes. "Velma."