Madame Fifi & the Escaped Convicts

Bugsy rapped a staccato rhythm on the door. After a brief moment, a gruff voice came from inside. "Password?"

"Enterprise," replied Bugsy. Shrugging to his bewildered companions, he simply said, "Fifi's a Star Trek nut."

"The term," said the gruff voice as the door swung open, "is Trekker."

The gruff voice belonged to none other than Madame Fifi herself, a large Italian woman of at least 50 years. She hurried them in.

"Trekker?" asked Fred uncomprehendingly as the foursome (who, in case there is any confusion, are still not a jazz quartet) sat down on a couple of alarmingly overstuffed sofas.

"A Trekker isn't the same as a Trekkie," Madame Fifi explained. "Trekkies are the nuts who go to the conventions, wear the costumes, buy the Klingon dictionaries and memorize the titles of every single episode. Trekkers just love the show but tend not to spend a great percentage of their money or time on it."

"I see," said Fred, who didn't.

"Good to see ya Bugsy!" shouted the woman without warning. If there was a reason for her sudden use of volume, it escaped Fred for the moment. "Has it been 25 years already?" She cackled with glee as if she had just said something very funny.

"Of course not Fifi, you know I wouldn't last 25. I'd go crazy after the first 10."

"I assumed you had!"

Bugsy chuckled at this, then became serious. "I've just escaped, with the help of my associates, Fred and...was it Astra?" Astra nodded.

Madame Fifi looked them over appraisingly. "Can they be trusted?"

"To be honest, I don't know much about them," Bugsy replied. "But they're in the same boat I am, running from the law with no place to go but here."

"Well, we'll take care of them," said Fifi with a motherly smile. "First things first, honey we've got to get you some decent clothes." Madame Fifi indicated for Astra to come with her. "Don't worry honey, you're safe here," she soothed, switching on the smile again. Fred had an inherent distrust of motherly smiles, but he realised that this was probably more due to his own complex psychological troubles than anything to do with this woman, and anyway Astra could handle herself.

"Say Fifi," called Bugsy as the two woman were exiting the room, "Any chance my friend and I could partake in the fine services offered here?"

"The girls have all gone home for the night honey," replied Fifi with an entirely different smile, "but I'd be glad to give you a rubdown."

Bugsy shuddered. "No thanks."

1. Not having much of a choice, our heroes crash for the night at Madame Fifi's. In the morning...

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