A duet between Francouer and The Spine.
On the plus side, the makeup was working. On the minus side, everyone was giving him the stink-eye because he’d decided to test it during an extended costume party all over Paris.
The Spine considered it a point of merit that he had to buy a cheap mask on a stick just to ward off hostility.
One of the Peters would yell at him later for getting paint in his seams, but… it felt so good to walk among them and pretend, just for a moment, that he wasn’t a piece of heavy equipment and he could go where he wanted and do what he liked. Just like them.
He found himself fetched up by an old Cabaret, where musicians jammed in the street side. The war was over. There was no reason to keep the party indoors.
He picked up a bass guitar and joined in. The existing guitarist, a bulky fellow in mostly white, nodded coyly and challenged him to sing along.
He had a really high voice for someone that big.
“Look around - there’s another mask behind you,” sang the big fellow.
“Flash of mauve / Splash of puce,” the Spine challenged
“Fool and king / Ghoul and goose,” answered the French giant.
“Green and black / Queen and priest…”
“Trace of rouge / Face of beast…”
“Faces! Take your turn, take a ride…”
“On the merry-go-round / in an inhuman race!”
“Ah, Honeybee,” teased a vision in crinoline and lace. Rabbit. She had a fine fake moustache on a stick and no other attempt to blend in. “Ya know that one ain’t g-g-gonna fly outside’a the Masques.” She turned and grinned at him. “Hey, Th’ Spine. I see ya finally met Frankie.”
“Francoeur,” corrected the giant.
Rabbit blew him a kiss. “I c-c-can only g-get away with callin’ him Honeybee…”
“Wait,” The Spine boggled. “We all thought you hallucinated him.”
“He’s shy,” said Rabbit.
Francoeur cooed an agreement.
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