Page 94 of Disco Witches of Fire Island

“No, no, baby doll.” Saint D’Norman patted Elena’s cheek. “This old gal is just thirsty. I’m having a good ol’ time. Do me a favor, honey. Go run and get this fabulous ol’ queen an orange juice and a banana? The potassium will help. There ya go.”

Elena looked angrily at Howie and then ran off to do Saint D’Norman’s bidding.

“Maybe she’s right,” Ronnie whispered to Howie. “Saint D’Norman doesn’t look great, and Dory’s pretty old. Maybe we could try flagging sitting down?”

Howie, with a wild look in his eye, grabbed Ronnie’s arm aggressively.

“Okay!” Ronnie said. “Easy! It was just a suggestion!”

“That’s not it!” Howie shouted. “I know what’s missing!” He pulled a slip of paper and pen from his fanny pack and scribbled something. “Quick, Ronnie. Take this to the DJ. I need her to play this right away. Get back here as fast as possible. Hurry!”

With the note in hand, Ronnie yanked up his costume and jammed his way through the crowd. Not a single man tried to grope him, which helped with speed. He was nearing the stairs to the DJ booth when he felt something catch the hem of his dervish skirt.

“What the fuck?” He spun around to find Scotty Black holding a fist full of the white sequined cloth in his hands.

Scotty was flanked by Thursty and the shortest Graveyard Girl. All three were sucking on ethyl chloride rags, which hung from their mouths like gray lizard tongues. Scotty removed his rag. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Sorry, Scotty,” Ronnie shouted. “Just asking the DJ to play a special request for Howie. We’re kind of doing a little ceremony—”

“Not on my dime!” Scotty barked. “And I don’t hire drag queens to bartend at the Promethean! Now, get out of that getup and get back to work, or you’re fired.”

“He’s just having fun with the Picketty Ruff boys,” Thursty said. “You know they always put the crowd in a great mood. It’s good for business.”

“My businesses don’t need anyone’s help!” Scotty snapped, then turned to the shorter Graveyard Girl. “If he’s not back to work in five minutes—shirtless and looking like a man—I want all his shit emptied from his room immediately, and he can sleep on the beach, for all I care.

“Please, Scotty,” Ronnie begged. “I just need thirty minutes more, okay?”

“You heard me!” Scotty turned to Thursty. “And you, whose side are you on? Remember who pays your check!”

“I just think—” Thursty began.

“Like I care what a bloated overgrown K queen thinks!” Scotty scoffed and shoved his ethyl rag into Thursty’s hand. “Now, fill me up. And don’t be stingy. I paid for it!”

Thursty began digging in his fanny pack for the can of ethyl chloride.

Ronnie felt an odd tapping inside his brain, almost like a mental Morse code from Howie and the others.Time is running out.If he didn’t get that playlist up to the DJ quickly, there’d be no hope of helping Joe.

“Okay, then I quit.” Ronnie snatched his skirt from Scotty’s tight claw.

“You can’t quit, since you’re fired!” Scotty screamed, grabbing Ronnie by the neck of his shirt. “That means you’re trespassing on my property.” He turned to the Graveyard Girl. “Get security to get him out of here now!”

“What was that?” The Graveyard Girl cupped his ear, acting like he didn’t hear. “Come again?”

“Oh, Scotty!” Thursty sang out, as if he were oblivious to the melee. “Try this! It’s a whopper. I think you’ll like it!”

Thursty shoved the ethyl rag to Scotty’s nose and mouth and held it there until Scotty released Ronnie’s collar. Then Scotty smiled, latched onto Thursty’s arm, and sleepily crumpled to the floor.

“Girl down!” the short Graveyard Girl sang out.

“Biggirl down!” Thursty devilishly smiled at Ronnie. “Oh dear,” he deadpanned. “I sure hope I didn’t accidentally go too heavy on the dose, knocking him outfor at least thirty minutes or more. Now, honey, you go do whatever those glorious Disco Witches say! Enjoy the ride!”

Ronnie bolted up the steps to the DJ booth, his heart flopping into the mosh pit of his ribs. Discovering the booth locked, he banged on the door, screaming, “Please! Susan! Let me in! It’s an emergency!”

When the door opened, DJ Susan looked furious. “What the hell?” She pulled the headphones from her ears.

“I’m sorry!” Ronnie shouted. “You need to play this right away! It’s urgent! Please!”

He handed her the folded piece of paper. As soon as she saw Howie’s note, the rage drained from her face. “You got it,” she said. “Now get the fuck out of my booth!”

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