Dystopia: A Real Killer of a Fun House
By Greg Hansen
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About this ebook
Dystopia is – was – the hottest show in the country. Located in a rundown warehouse in Atlantic City, it was participatory theater, a show in which the audience could interact with the actors. The performances, played out in dystopian scenes, featured gruesome violence, lots of blood, and sex. The show was so terrifying that audience members sometimes fainted, thereby adding to its reputation as “must see” theater.
When the COVID pandemic hit, though, social distancing, and limits on crowd size, put a serious strain on the show’s finances. In order to get as large an audience as they could, the owners of the show had to increase ticket prices, as well as ramp up the sex and violence contained in the acts. If they didn’t keep the popularity of the show high, the offer they had to move Dystopia to New York City and a larger venue might disappear.
When a particularly obnoxious customer and his female companion are murdered in one of the performances, everyone in the audience thought it was all part of the show. But it wasn’t. The murders were real.
Detectives in Atlantic City and Atlanta try to solve the murders. Adding to the whodunit mystery is that the couple who were murdered were not man and wife. Detectives have two suspects they focus on immediately. One is the wife of the man who was murdered, the owner of a construction company who is associated with organized crime. The other is the husband of the woman who was murdered, an apparently crooked lawyer who, herself, may have ties to organized crime. The problem the detectives have is that neither of the suspects were anywhere near Atlantic City – they both live in Atlanta.
Eventually a suspect is found, but questions remain – was he really the murderer, and will more murders follow?
Greg Hansen
I have been the leader of an artificial intelligence group, a modeling and simulation professional, NSA analyst, certified ethical hacker, white water kayak instructor, pickleball instructor and former police commissioner. I have published six non-fiction books, two with Prentice Hall. I am now venturing into the field of general fiction, calling on my experience in AI to develop a harrowing view of the future, as well as my experience as a police commissioner to detail methods of criminal investigation.
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Dystopia - Greg Hansen
DYSTOPIA -
A REAL KILLER OF A FUN HOUSE
A NOVEL BY
GREG HANSEN
Copyright © 2020 by Greg Hansen
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
CHAPTER ONE
Hugh Reynolds, a tall, lanky, longhaired young man dressed in distressed jeans and a strategically ripped tee shirt, took a deep breath and mumbled, Fucking pandemic.
He sighed, walked over to a window in his second story office, and looked at the crowd beginning to gather outside. Half,
he said. Because of social distancing, we can only get half the crowd we used to.
Kimiko, his wife, a very petite, very pretty Japanese woman with hazel eyes and long, straight black hair, frowned. In a tone of voice revealing some annoyance with Hugh, she said, Yeah, but we’ve increased the admission price by fifty dollars, so we’re not losing that much. Given the money from political organizations and product placement, we’re doing just fine. And it’s a Tuesday afternoon, the deadest time and day of the week, so we have a decent crowd. I don’t know why you worry so.
I don’t know, either,
Hugh said. It’s my nature, I guess.
Oh,
Kimiko said. "Did you see the latest Off Broadway Database review? It’s from that pompous asshole, Ziggy Black, and it’s terrific. Let me look it up on my phone."
I wish we knew when he was here,
Hugh sighed. We could have amped up the performances.
He always comes incognito,
Kimiko said. "Anyway, if we amped up the performances, as you suggested, we may have screwed them up. Worse, someone might have called the cops. Ah. Here’s the review. Listen – Dystopia delivers in ways I did not expect. Going in, I thought it would be bumps and scares, like a typical fun house. With its ingeniously constructed shocks, it is a powerful achievement, undoubtedly giving the audience one of the most frightening experiences of their lives. Because the audience can interact with the performers, it makes them feel like they are actually in a dystopian landscape. I can’t wait for it to open in New York. What more could you possibly want, Hugh?"
I’m just worried that the pandemic is going to screw up our chances of opening in New York,
Hugh said.
Why would it?
Kimiko asked. "We have the warehouse, right? It’s being outfitted, right? We have living spaces for any of the crew that need it. We can pack in many more people in that warehouse than in this warehouse, and it won’t be as shabby. In fact, we can thank the pandemic for driving down rental space prices in the city. With the spectacular reviews we’ve been getting, I don’t see a problem."
You’re right, of course,
Hugh said. I just jump every time my phone rings and I see Josh Winter’s name on the caller ID. I keep expecting him to tell me that the funding has fallen through.
Kimiko slid up behind Hugh and put her arms around his waist. But he doesn’t. You’re a rock star, baby. After this, I bet it’s on to Hollywood for us. I’ve already heard rumors that you’re being considered to direct some films. And, don’t forget, we have a nice suite in the casino at no charge, meals at no charge, use of all the facilities, and so on.
"That is a big plus, Hugh said.
We can bank whatever little money we’re making out of this."
Oh, honey,
Kimiko said. You worry too much. The future is really looking up for us.
Hugh smiled and pulled Kimiko tight against his body. Yeah. I hope you’re right. So, let me get to the controls and then you can tell me the sequence of the acts.
It hasn’t changed in a month,
Kimiko said.
Never enough practice,
Hugh said. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of a set of video displays, a set of switches, and microphones with names on them.
Ready?
Kimiko asked.
Shoot,
Hugh said.
First up is the urinating bum,
Kimiko said.
Hugh laughed. Yeah. That’s a good one. Gets the audience freaked out. Billy Sparks doing it? I mean, I start itching just looking at him.
Yeah,
Kimiko said. He does a great job. It gets a jump, and then a laugh, out of the audience. Plus, we get a good deal of money from the anti-Berman political groups.
Hugh pushed a button on a microphone labeled Sparks and spoke into it. Billy? Gonna check the lighting. Let me know if it works.
Hugh slowly turned a knob labeled Scene 1 and spoke to Billy Sparks again. Looks good from here. How’s it look to you?
Perfect,
Sparks responded. Gonna check the odor?
No,
Hugh said. Don’t want to stink up the place before the show. Remember to turn on the exhaust fan when the act is over. See you later tonight.
Without turning toward Kimiko, he asked, Next?
The rape scene with the Puerto Ricans,
Kimiko said. Holly is gonna be the victim. She loves that stuff. With her big eyes and perky little body, she plays the terrified innocent girl perfectly.
Hugh covered his eyes with his hands and exhaled. "She does, that’s for sure, but I worry about that skit. Someday we’re gonna get busted. I mean, Holly – fucking Holly – she gets into it. How often has she had real sex on stage anyway?"
Kimiko shrugged. A few times. But – and this is important – if someone in the audience jumps out to save her, and someone always seems to do that, it adds a lot to the performance and the rest of the show. However, um…
Oh, Jesus,
Hugh said. "However, what?"
We’re getting pushback from the Puerto Rican community in Atlantic City,
Kimiko said.
Hugh was incredulous. Atlantic City has a Puerto Rican community?
Hispanic is more like it,
Kimiko said. But, well…
Fine,
Hugh sighed. We’ll change it up to – what – neo-Nazis maybe. Let me check with Luis after the show. Let me check in with him now about today’s show.
Hugh spoke into a microphone labeled Rape Scene. Luis. I’m going to move the curtain open and shut, and control the lighting. Let me know if everything works to your satisfaction.
Hugh fiddled with some more knobs and waited until he heard from Luis DeJesus. Perfect,
Luis said.
Check with Carlos,
Hugh said. Make sure the chain saw is working.
He already checked it out,
Luis said. I know because he overdid it and we had to clean up a bit. We control the lighting, and that checked out as well.
I like the idea of neo-Nazis,
Kimiko said. We get sizeable funds from a few women’s organizations for the rape scene. If we do change it to neo-Nazis or skinheads, we’ll probably get funds from some other groups.
Okay,
Hugh said. What next?
The black woman with the baby,
Kimiko said. I love that one. Pauline is doing a great job. I even have someone in the audience picked out to focus on.
We’ll go over the audience in a bit,
Hugh said. "I do love that there’s always a big freak out because of the rats. Not a lot of contributions, but it is still a good act."
Don’t be so sure,
Kimiko said. I just got an email from a COVID response group. They want to contribute. What should I tell them?
"Tell them yes, Hugh said, laughing.
Let me check in with Pauline."
He pushed another button on a microphone and asked, Hey, Pauline. How’s it going?
They rats are a bit lethargic,
Pauline said. I’ll wake them up soon, though.
Okay. Don’t forget – you’re the bartender this afternoon.
Got it, boss,
Pauline said, laughing.
After he checked in with Pauline, he asked Kimiko, What next?
The sweat shop,
Kimiko said. I’m not sure about this one. No one seems to care about a bunch of older Asian women slaving in a dungeon, you know?
Hugh snorted with contempt. I keep saying we should get some young, pretty women for the part.
They want to be paid more,
Kimiko said. The women we’re using used to work in the casinos, got laid off, and are happy with minimum wage. At least they’re working. Anyway, they really don’t have to act.
Right,
Hugh said. Plus, we give them shelter in the warehouse, and some of them need it. And the Teamsters give us a pretty good donation for mentioning unions. And it’s easy because Wong controls the entire scene. I just have to watch.
Right,
Kimiko said. Then it’s the Pimp, the Mafia, the Lizard People and the Drug deal.
The Pimp I like,
Hugh said. Carlos will be able to get some pretty good insults in, and Gertie plays a strung-out hooker really well. This is the last time for the drug deal, I think. I mean, who gives a damn about drug deals anymore?
True,
Kimiko said. But it’s the last act and played for laughs. I like it. The lighting is always on, Phil is a pro, so it’s easy-peasy. No reason to not do it.
Yeah,
Hugh sighed. "I don’t know about the Mafia. We had to change that to hoods trying to score out of date COVID vaccinations. Not very realistic, right? But the Lizard People? I love that. Who, may I ask, is going to be the twelve-year-old girl?"
Kimiko gave Hugh a lascivious smile. "You know who. With my hair in pigtails, I look like a twelve-year-old. Whoever thought being as flat chested as I am would be such a benefit?"
You know I don’t like you being topless in front of strangers,
Hugh grumbled.
Kimiko giggled, wrapped her arms around Hugh’s neck and kissed him. Somehow I think you do.
Hugh laughed. All right. Maybe I do. I really wish we could do the bar scene and BLM versus right wing nuts scenes. The puking in the bar scene gives everyone the willies, and the gunfire in the BLM scene is like the grand finale of a fireworks show. But – social distancing, you know?
Yeah,
Kimiko said. Maybe in the new space. From what I’ve seen, we have like an entire basketball court area large enough to do the BLM protests in, and an actual bar we can do that scene in. But, are we gonna pay all those actors?
No,
Hugh said. We’re going to offer it up as a way for the BLM movement to get it’s point across, and for the governor to get his lockdown message across. And, let’s face it, it gets actors on IMDB if we do some videos.
I think you may be right,
Kimiko said. "Anyway, let’s talk about the