Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. Summer has been very busy for me, but Chapter 4 is finally here!

Chapter 4

Horns blared and tires screeched as angry drivers swerved to avoid hitting the gold clad celebrity as he dashed across the street. Yet, above the cacophony, Conrad could hear the frightened screams of his pursuing admirers.

"Oh my gosh! He could be killed!"

"I can't watch."

"Conrad, LOOK OUT!"

With one last stride, Conrad's feet found the safety of the sidewalk beneath them once again, and not a moment too soon. A blast of air nearly knocked him off his feet as a large metro bus sped by right behind him. Rather than contemplate his brush with death, Conrad thought quickly and used the bus's presence to his advantage, quickly ducking into a nearby shop. There were iron bars on the windows, and the sign above read Hank's Pawn.

Conrad quickly took in his surroundings. There was a long counter to his right which wrapped around to run the entire length of the back wall. Within a display built into the counter were several articles of sparkling jewelry and watches. The floor was covered in old appliances, electronics, and tools, and musical instruments hung from rows of hooks arranged on the ceiling. All available wall space was filled with shelves of record albums, clocks, and decorative items, and yet, Conrad couldn't see a decent place to hide.

"Can I help you?"

The voice had come from his right, and Conrad turned to see that it belonged to a tall, middle-aged man with a reddish brown moustauche. He stood, his lanky frame leaning over the counter beside a cash register. His nametag read 'Hank.'

"Well?" The man waited expectantly as Conrad approached the counter.

"Uh, well...Man, I gotta hide someplace." Conrad glanced over his shoulder nervously to see if the mob outside was still following.

Hank looked at Conrad's metallic ensamble and smiled slightly. "Hide?" He raised an eyebrow, "Who are you runnin' from, the fashion police?"

"Be serious man, can you help me or not?" Conrad was beginning to sweat. Though they hadn't found him yet, he knew it was only a matter of time before the girls discovered where he had gone.

"Well now, that depends..."

The man's cool, slow way of talking only added to Conrad's anxiety. "Depends on what?" he spat.

"It depends on who you're runnin' from." He paused a moment, "Now, if it's the police-"

"No, it ain't the police."

"Then who-? Hey, wait a minute." Hank's eyes lit with recognition, "You're that singer ain't cha? Now what was your name? Billy? Barry? No..." The man's eyes focused on Conrad's belt buckle, and he read, "Birdie... That's right! You're that Conrad Birdie fellow all the young gals are so crazy about these days."

"Shh! Not so loud!" Conrad glanced around nervously. "Someone mgith hear you."

Hank shook his head, "I just don't get it. If you're not havin' a problem with the police, then what kinda trouble could a big celebrity like you possibly- Oh," the man's eyes widened in understanding, "I get it." He frowned, "Well I'll tell ya boy. Bein' a father myself, I have half a mind to let the girl's father find you. And I'm warnin' ya, an angry father with a shotgun is about as merciful as a rattlesnake!"

Conrad took a step back, puzzled. Father? Shotgun? Rattlesnake? "Man, I sure don't know what you're talkin' about, but there's a mob of girls out there lookin' for me, and I gotta lose 'em, quick!"

Now it was Hank's turn to be puzzled. "A mob o' girls?" He wrinkled his nose and stared at Conrad, "Heck boy, is that all? If only I were so unfortunate!"

"C'mon man. Help me!" Conrad glanced back out through the barred windowsand then stared at the man, pleadingly.

"Alright, alright. Just relax and I'll make you a deal."

"A deal?" Man, I don't have time for deals!

"Yeah. You see, I've got an extra pair a clothes in the back room that I'd be willing to part with under one condition..."

"What's that?"

"You've gotta give me that there fancy buckle you've got on your belt."

The fear in Conrad's eyes suddenly turned to anger. "Huh-uh man. No deal!" He shook his head, "If you think I'm goin' to trade my belt buckle for some lousy shirt and a pair a jeans then you-"

Hank quietly interrupted the tirade, pointing out a window at the mob of girls heading toward the shop, their eyes filled with determination. "Well...?"

"Then you've got yourself a deal!" Conrad hurriedly detached the buckle from his beld and set it on the counter.

"All righty then. Follow me and we'll see about that disguise."