Randy Takes A Busman's Holiday

The Amazing Randy and the people he encounters are featured in over two dozen stories in the Mind Control section here at Literotica, starting with The True Professional. If I wrote it and it's in the Mind Control section, then the story features the "World's Greatest Stage Hypnotist," or people he has met during his thirty-year career in show business.

Whether you love it or hate it, I very much want to hear what you think. Take a few moments to comment, please.

The Amazing Randy Takes a Busman's Holiday

Out On His Own

It had been less than two years since Randy Baumgardner had come to work for Mr. Hudson. Hudson Amusements had started as a small company which supplied thrill rides like the Scrambler and the Tilt-A-Whirl as well as Ferris wheels to organizations holding local carnivals. After shrewd takeovers and buyouts of competitors, along with prudent business practices, John Hudson had turned his amusements company into the premier supplier of carnival and fair "support" East of the Mississippi, and had snared such profitable accounts as the Iowa State Fair and the Nebraska State Fair on the left side of the Big Muddy as well. Business was booming.

The company had "taken off" when Mr. Hudson had realized that there was a lot of money to be made at supplying not only rides, but the entire fair experience all neatly tied up in one package, a "fair-in-a-box," if you will. Hundreds of carnival and side show entertainers had willingly come to work for "Mr. Hudson" accepting his promise of steady employment, more dates, and better pay.

Among those who had come to work for Hudson Amusements was a young couple who had a mentalist act. They'd been in the business for ten years, but when they'd read Mr. Hudson's call for new acts to join his stable in the trade papers, they fairly jumped at the chance at job security and higher wages.

Then, Louise Baumgardner found out she was pregnant. The Baumgardners had been working for Hudson Amusements for only a few years when they'd gone to Mr. Hudson to explain that Louise would be leaving the act to give birth and nurse her newborn. They proposed that they train one of the other carnies to replace her before she left to give birth to her child. If Mr. Hudson approved, Al Baumgardner would remain with the company, travelling the carnival circuit. Louise planned to go to her sister Ivy's, where she'd live until it was right for her to return. They'd have difficulty making ends meet, but neither wanted to quit.

Mr. Hudson understood "the life" completely. Carnival folk were both fiercely independent and fiercely loyal. The Baumgardners had been hard-working, like all "carnies" pitching-in to help to make sure the show always went on. He agreed to their proposal, even finding extra paid work for Al to do in addition to his stage show.

Eventually, The Baumgardners reunited their act and their young son was left to live with his aunt, seeing his parents only whenever there was a break in their schedule.

Carnival life was tough on families.

Once Randy had graduated from high school he had decided to follow in his parents' footsteps and follow the circuit with his own comedy hypnotism act. With urging from his long-time employee and friend, Mr. Hudson had agreed to give "the kid" a tryout.

Not only was Randy's act a crowd pleaser, but in barely two years, "The Amazing Randy" had gone from a fifty seat tent to a three hundred seat tent. He'd made Mr. Hudson a fair amount of money in that time.

Now, he was in Mr. Hudson's office in New York City, giving his notice. Randy had met Mr. Hudson only once and that meeting had resulted in a significant promotion for the young hypnotist. The Baumgardners owed Mr. Hudson and Randy was not looking forward to giving his notice.

Mr. Hudson's secretary escorted the young performer into the boss' office. Mr. Hudson rose from his chair, extended his hand and offered Randy a seat. "What can I do for you Randy?"

"Mr. Hudson, I'm here to give my notice. I'm leaving the company to strike out on my own."

The man behind the oak desk said "I'm sorry to hear that, Randy. Is it something I can help with? Is there a problem at work?"

"No, sir," said Randy. "It's just that I feel that it's time to move on. Please believe me when I say that I deeply appreciate the opportunity you have given me. I've learned so much about show business and you are the one who has made it possible. That's why I wanted to give you my notice face-to-face, so I could thank you properly for giving me a chance.

"I didn't have much of a choice, you know."

Randy said, "What do you mean?" knowing full well what the boss was getting at. He was about to hear Mr. Hudson's side of the night his father had called his boss to get his son a job.

"Randy, you're a carnie. You'll always be a carnie. We stick together. I remember the night your father called me to offer the company your services. Do you know that he told me that if I didn't hire you that I'd spend the next two years kicking my own ass and that he'd spend even longer reminding me how much I deserved it?" He chuckled. "Your dad was right, of course. You are a very talented young man. What are you going to do?"

"As you know, Mr. Hudson, my act is primarily a comedy act. The hypnotism is merely a vehicle to set up and deliver the jokes. Stand-up comedy is sweeping the country. In the trades last week, there was an article about how supper clubs were switching from music to stand-up. Did you read it?"

"I always read the papers. It's part of my job."

"At any rate, I figure that my act can be successful with a few tweaks."

"And the money's a lot better."

"Yes, Mr. Hudson, I believe that it will be. As you know, my parents are going to retire soon. They have a small nest egg, but I want to be able to contribute to their support in retirement. Additionally, my maiden aunt could use some help."

"Have you been hired by any of these clubs yet? Got anything lined-up?"

"Well," said Randy, "no, not yet."

"Let me make a few phone calls. Maybe I can help you get your foot in the door. I know a few people in this business."

"Thanks, Mr. Hudson," said Randy, clearly relieved at the course the meeting had taken.

"Like I said, Randy, we stick together."

They shook hands and Randy left the office. The carnival phase of The Amazing Randy's career was over.

Building a Tour

A week later, Randy got a phone call from Mr. Hudson's secretary telling him that Mr. Hudson had arranged for auditions in Portland, Indianapolis, Albuquerque, and Louisville. All he had to do was to show up, mention Mr. Hudson's name, and he'd get a shot on stage. After that it was up to him.

Randy's first stop was at Harry's, a supper club in Portland, Oregon. Harry was somewhat taken aback by Randy's youth, but he had known John Hudson for years and if John Hudson said the kid was worth a look, then he'd take a look. John had an excellent eye for talent.

Randy offered to work for free during his try-out, but Harry wouldn't hear of it. "Kid," he said. "nobody works at Harry's for nothing. Not you, not the wait staff, and not me."

Randy was given the microphone on a Tuesday night. The club was a quarter full, mostly with diners who had come to Harry's for the food. Mid-week was slow, but Randy's act was very well-received. Harry had taken the time to watch the entire show from behind the bar. The kid was funny. He was professional in every way, and the hypnosis part was astounding. After the show, Harry offered Randy a drink, which he took, and a job, which he also took. Randy would perform the next two nights, with the possibility of stretching the gig into Friday if the crowds continued to grow.

Harry was so impressed that he invited the entertainment writer at The Oregonian to attend. Harry had said, "Prepare to laugh. This guy is funny, and brand new."

The next night the club was more than half full. When Randy showed up to the club on Thursday, Harry had placed a copy of The Oregonian's review of his act in Harry's dressing room. Scribbled on a piece of scrap paper was "Congrats, Kid. You're a hit. I'm already taking reservations for Friday night."

Thursday and Friday nights were sell-outs. The Amazing Randy had the audiences "rolling in the aisles." As he collected his pay for the four nights, by far the biggest paycheck he had ever collected, he shook Harry's hand. Harry said, "I've made a few calls. These are some of the owners who might be inclined to work you into the schedule. Mention my name and you'll get some stage time. "Don't forget us when you put together your tour."

Randy said. "Thanks for everything, Harry. I'll be back. I'll call you as soon as I can."

Six weeks later, Randy had travelled east from Portland and stopped at six different cities, each with the same result as Harry's. After stops in Boise, Salt Lake City, Fort Collins, Albuquerque, El Paso and Austin, Randy could see a national tour developing. He opened bank accounts in each of these cities, depositing the lion's share of his earnings and keeping just enough to finance the next leg of his journey. By late summer he arrived in Boston already holding twenty invitations to return to twenty different venues the following year. Randy's first national tour was solidifying.

He called Harry back in Portland and scheduled his first stop, a full two weeks at the supper club. Then, he called Mr. Hudson to thank him for his help. Eventually, Randy walked into The Laugh Inn on Boylston Street to get ready for his third night at the downtown comedy club. The Laugh Inn was in transition from a mixture of music and comedy acts to strictly humor. There was a lot of competition for "mike time" at The Inn, but once the owner had taken in The Amazing Randy's performance, he suspended the "open mike" tryouts and booked the comedy hypnotist's act for the rest of the week. Randy "knocked 'em dead." The Laugh Inn would punctuate next year's cross-country comedy tour.

Encounter At The Fair

Randy was free as a bird, flush with cash, and had time on his hands. He was in no big hurry to leave New England. With foliage time just around the corner, and fair season well underway, Randy decided to rent a cottage, take in the sights, and maybe take a "busman's holiday" at "The Big E" in Springfield, The Fryeburg Fair, or the Topsfield Fair. Rentals after Labor Day were much less expensive, so he decided to get a small place in New Hampshire's Lakes Region.

Randy loved the quiet calm of the country. He rented a place with lakefront footage on Berry Bay, one of the three such bays attached to Lake Ossipee. Using Ossipee as a home base, he could drop in on the Hudson crew during the Fryeburg Fair, but mostly he wanted to get to the Sandwich Fair, a tiny local three-day fair, always during Columbus Day weekend, nestled in a valley surrounded by brilliant foliage. When Randy had first joined Hudson Amusements, his very first performance, had been on the makeshift stage at the picturesque New Hampshire carnival.

Though very young and fairly new to the business, Randy was a true professional, using a significant part of his time alone with nature to work on his act. He'd sit by the lake, yellow pad and pencil in hand writing joke after joke, one-liner after one-liner, channeling the great comics of both his own lifetime and from the golden era of the mid-twentieth century. He "borrowed" from everyone from Jack Benny to the Firesign Theater. Mostly he worked on timing, which he knew from experience was as important, if not more important than the actual punchlines themselves when it came to getting the really big laughs.

As the verdant greens slowly completed their transition to reds, oranges, and yellows and the nights got genuinely cold, Randy decompressed and re-charged after his whirlwind trek across the country. Eventually, Columbus Day weekend rolled around. The weatherman on the local TV station predicted a combination of temperatures in the mid-seventies and bright sunlit skies, perfect weather for the fair in nearby Sandwich.

Randy, dressed in a short sleeve shirt and chino pants, paid his entrance fee and entered the fairgrounds. As he moseyed past the vegetable exhibits and the livestock pens down the tarred access road which led to the carnival rides, Randy inhaled the unique odor of the country fair. His path was lined on both sides by booths selling everything from fried dough to fried pickles. He could hear the sounds of the tractors competing in the tractor pull on the other side of the fair.

Randy bought a cup of hot coffee and sat down to watch the kiddie tractor pull. Very young children, emulating their farmer parents and uncles, pulled plastic sleds by pedaling miniature toy tractors as hard as they could while volunteers added bricks to the sled along the way until their little legs could no longer move the pedals. It was about as cute as cute could be. He was as content as content could be.

Finally, he made it to the rides. Before long he bumped into a half-dozen or more of the carnies he knew, some offering games of chance, others taking tickets at the rides. Everyone wanted to know what he was up to and when he told them they wished him luck in his new career.

As always, the twenty-one-year-old performer kept a weather eye out for good-looking women his own age. There were a lot of them at the fair, but virtually every one was with her husband or boyfriend. City folk mixed with country folk as the crowds circulated around the fairgrounds.

As he made his way through the jostling horde, he felt a bump which felt, or at least his "carny sense" told him so, "intentional." A quick check of his back pocket and his suspicions were confirmed; his wallet was gone. He replayed the moments up to the collision searching his mind for the culprit. There she was, slowly, but deliberately walking away from the scene of the crime.

The light-fingered perpetrator was an attractive twenty-something woman in a light flannel shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. Her hair, light brown and mid-length was pushed up into her baseball cap, whose logo read "Fairmount Farms Weare, New Hampshire." It was near-perfect camouflage and, had her mark been anybody else but a carny, she might have disappeared successfully into the human background noise.

Following at a discrete distance and making sure that she didn't toss his wallet, minus the cash of course, into one of the many trash barrels filled with half-eaten pizza and mustard-smeared paper goods, Randy waited until she sat down in the rickety aluminum stands at the oxen pull. These enormous horned beasts, yoked together, were still in use locally for selective cut logging in the north woods. They could go where no tractor dared to tread. Their handlers, using nothing but a thin leather switch and voice commands to control the massive animals as they pulled gigantic concrete slabs on wooden skidders down a sandy track, were justifiably proud of their teams.

Randy sat down next to the attractive pickpocket. "My God," he said to no one in particular, "these animals are astounding."

"Yes, they are," said his bench mate, smiling, as she turned to answer the unknown commentator. Without so much as a mini-flinch the thief repeated, "Yes, they are."

Randy transferred his near-empty Styrofoam cup of coffee from his right hand to his left and extended his free hand to shake. "Hi," he said, "I'm Randy."

"Suzy," she said as she shook the hypnotist's hand, unaware that she was already deep inside the trick bag. Looking straight into her deep brown eyes, he calmly said, "Suzy, from this moment forward you will obey me. You will not attempt to leave until I say you can. You will be absolutely candid when I ask you questions. You will always tell me the truth. You will not draw attention to either one of us. I want you to pretend that we're here on a date. Otherwise, be yourself. You are in absolutely no danger."

A line from a Frank Zappa song came to mind and Randy said, "Suzy? Suzy Creamcheese? Suzy, honey, what's got into ya?" Before she could answer he added, "Suzy, you've been exceedingly naughty today. Why don't we start by you returning my wallet? Give it up."

Suzy reached into her half-unbuttoned flannel shirt and slowly drew the contraband wallet out, and handed it to its owner. Randy checked for cash. It was all there. "Suzy," he asked, "do you have any other wallets in there? Produce them." Out came three more men's wallets and her own. "Been busy, I can see, and it's just barely noon. Give me the wallets and follow me. Keep your own. Let's go watch the antique auto parade. It starts in half an hour."

Randy and Suzy made for the fair entrance, and stopped by the "Fair Information" building. A woman in her late fifties or early sixties came to the window and asked, "May I help you?"

"Yes Maam," said Randy. "A minute ago my girlfriend Suzy and I saw a man stash these behind a trash can. It looks like they still have the money and credit cards inside. Can you page the owners or something and see that they're returned? We're not interested in rewards or anything. We just want their owners to get them back." He handed all three wallets to the fair volunteer and extended his hand while saying "Thanks."

When she took the proffered hand Randy said, "You will not involve the police, but if somehow they do become involved, you will say that you just found them here on the counter."

"Suzy," he said, "let's go across the street, sit on the wall and watch the car parade. Come with me." After getting their hands stamped so that they could return, Randy and Suzy sat together waiting for the muscle cars and kit cars and genuine antiques with their rumble seats and funky "ah-ooo-gah" horns, to roll by.

Randy spoke to his companion as a 1969 396 Chevelle with a blower motored past, proud owners waving to the small crowd. "Suzy, tell me why you are lifting wallets from these people."

"I need the money. I don't steal from folks who look like they can't afford to lose the money."

"And you don't see anything wrong with doing this?"

"Of course I do. I have morals. I'm not a sociopath, Randy. I need the money. I was hoping to buy myself dinner tonight, and maybe a motel room if there are any vacancies within walking distance."

Randy took hold of her hand and confirmed her truthfulness. She was dead broke. He could have probed deeper to find out more of her story, but he decided not to, preferring to learn what he could by simple conversation... and his command that she be one hundred percent truthful.

"Well," he said, "if I've taken your food money then I'll just have to replace it with an offer to buy you dinner while I get to know you better. Feeling like an early dinner?"

"Yes, I'm hungry right now."

"Would you like to re-enter and have fair food, or would you prefer a sit-down dinner? There's a restaurant called The Corner House down the street. You choose. I'll pay for either meal."

"I'll take the sit-down. I haven't eaten in a real restaurant in months, that is if you call KFC a 'real restaurant.' I'm about pizza'd-out."

Randy noticed that Suzy's outfit, while more or less appropriate for attending a livestock fair, was more than a bit ragged and, to be honest, it smelled. "Suzy, let's go back in the fair for a short while. I have an idea."

They crossed the street, held up their wrists so the gate attendant could see their "SAT" stamp, and re-entered the fair. Randy led Suzy to the Scrambler where he knew the operator. "Jimmy," he said, "Is Manny around?"

"Yeah, someplace. Why do you need to see him?"