Thursday night rolled around, and The Chuckle Bucket was packed. Chameleon had taken on the form of a human to compete. He was late getting there, due to another failed confrontation with the Ducks. As a result, he was 16th to go on and was forced to watch an endless parade of hopefuls take the stage. Each one was worse than the one before; by the time it was his turn, the audience was bored and itching for blood.
"And now," the nervous host said, "please welcome our next comic…Sheckie McBang!"
The Chameleon walked onto the stage and was greeted by an icy silence.
"Uh, hello," Chameleon said. His eyes darted back and forth; not a single friendly face. If reptiles could sweat, The Chameleon would be drowning by now.
"So, um…who's from out of town? Anyone from the East Coast? It's a crazy place I tell ya…they have four seasons: winter, spring, summer and fall…all in the same day!"
The silence was deafening. In that moment Chameleon forgot his entire routine; he stood frozen in place, frantically trying to think of something to say.
C'mon, Chameleon, he thought. There has to be something you do well. Um…get my butt kicked? No! Think, THINK!
"Hey jerk," a voice from the crowd yelled. "In case you didn't know, this is a comedy club. When are you gonna be funny?"
Chameleon snapped out of it. "Oh, you want funny? Here's the funny!" Chameleon morphed his face into that of the heckler. "Hey, I'm forty years old and I still live at home! I have no talent so I criticize everyone else when I'm not selling shoes at the mall!" Chameleon then morphed back into Sheckie.
As he looked out on the sea of stunned faces, he realized he may have made a huge mistake. He was about to teleport out of there when suddenly they broke into applause and whistles.
Encouraged, Chameleon morphed into one of the waitresses. "Another drink, sir? The more you drink, the funnier the jokes!"
The audience howled.
Chameleon spent the next ten minutes doing impressions. By the time he left the stage the audience was on their feet, cheering. Backstage the club's owner was waiting to greet the Chameleon with open arms.
"Kid, you were fantastic! Those impressions were mind boggling! How on Earth did you do it?"
"Um…trade secret," Chameleon replied.
"Whatever. Look, I'm not happy with my current in-house host. How would you like his job?"
"A job? Me?" Chameleon gasped. I don't know…" It was a dream come true. But he knew it would mean sneaking around behind Dragaunus's back. And if the boss ever found out…
"I'll throw in a year's supply of turtle wax," the owner said.
"Deal!" The Chameleon squealed. He and the owner shook hands.
**********
Over the next few weeks The Chameleon would perform his usual mundane duties during the day, but at night he was Sheckie McBang, resident host at The Chuckle Bucket. He quickly became Anaheim's top comics, with one sold out show after another. For The Chameleon, it was like heaven; not only were people paying attention to him, but they admired and respected him! He didn't think life could get any better until one night after his show, he found a sharp dressed gentleman waiting for him backstage.
"Mr. McBang? My name is Jack Callister," the man said, extending his hand.
The Chameleon didn't think much of the man's straightforwardness; at that point he was used to people coming up to him like they were best friends. He made no effort to shake hands; after all, he didn't want to encourage these overenthusiastic fans. But what the man said next caught Chameleon's attention.
"I own the Orpheus Theatre downtown," the man said. "I want you to do a one-man show this Friday night!"
"Are you serious?" The Chameleon gasped.
"Wait, it gets better," Jack continued. "Some top executives from Comedy Central will be there. If they like what they see, you could be looking at your own prime-time show! So are you interest-oof!"
Jack did not get to finish his thought; the Chameleon had grabbed his hand and was shaking it so vigorously that his teeth rattled.
"I'll do it! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Youwon'tbesorryitwillbemybestshowever!"
"Whoa, sport, save it for showtime," Jack cried, wrenching his hand free. "Just be at The Orpheus Friday at 8. If the suits like you, you'll be able to write your own ticket."
**********
Days later The Chameleon was still walking on air. He knew that if he got a TV deal, he would make enough money to kiss his old life goodbye forever. He could just picture Siege and Wraith grumbling as they washed their own dishes and cooked their own meals, and ducked for cover during one of Dragaunus's temper tantrums. Yup, they wouldn't have Chameleon to kick around anymore; he'd be too busy throwing lavish parties in his Hollywood Hills mansion, mingling with celebrities like Demi Moore and her boyfriend, what's-his-name. By the time Friday rolled around he could barely contain his glee, which almost ruined everything…
"What are you smiling about?" Siege barked that night at dinner.
"Huh?" The Chameleon said, snapping out of his daydream. "Um, I…was just thinking about…how we should torture the Ducks the next time we capture them! I'm thinking boiling tar and…"
"I'm thinking you're lying," Wraith interjected.
"Yeah," Siege said, narrowing his eyes. "You've been acting funny all week. Last night I made you scrub the kitchen floor and you didn't complain one bit!"
"And you've been sleeping much too soundly as of late," Wraith added. "I haven't been woken up by the sound of your uncontrollable sobbing in days."
"I…just decided that…it was time to stop complaining about my job and become more of a team player," The Chameleon replied. "When we conquer the planet, humans will be doing all the work, right? The sooner we rule the world, the sooner I can retire. And the best way to do that is by doing my part and giving 110%." He then managed a weak smile.
Though the room was silent for no more than 5 seconds, to The Chameleon it seemed like an eternity. He knew that the next words Siege or Wraith uttered would decide whether he'd be on his way to fame and fortune…or scrubbing toilets for the rest of his life.
"Chameleon…" Wraith began.
"Yes?" Chameleon said, on the verge of fainting.
"If you ever start seeing glowing pink disks let me know. It seems the Thurdosians have found their way to this dimension and are using their Mindlessly Happy Idiot Ray."
"Uh…sure, no problem," The Chameleon said. "Well, I gotta go. That carpet isn't going to vacuum itself!" He hurried off, but the moment he was safely out of sight he started to skip. He couldn't help it; after tonight, he would never have to do chores again.
Next: Going out with a bang