The Amazing Randy Plays a Party

The Amazing Randy Plays A Party

A Friend in Need

Fifteen years ago, when Randy Baumgardner had first taken to the road on his initial cross-country comedy stage hypnotism tour, he'd been given an opportunity to try-out at Guy Rollins' Capital Comedy Club, known locally as the Three C's or just The C's, in Lansing, Michigan. Guy had been given a "heads up" to be on the lookout for the fledgling entertainer by Harry Palmer, the owner of Harry's, a supper club in Portland, Oregon.

"Guy," said Harry, "I just had a young kid named Randy Baumgardner do a four-night try-out here at the club. He does a comedy hypnotism act and not only is he funny, but his hypnotism schtick is positively astounding. He's looking to set up a national tour and I told him to show up at The C's and mention my name."

"How'd you hear about him?"

"I got the same phone call you're getting right now, but it was from John Hudson. The kid worked the carnival circuit for him for two years. John, as you well know, knows talent when he sees it. He called the kid, who calls himself 'The Amazing Randy- The World's Greatest Stage Hypnotist,' 'the best act he had ever seen under a tent.' John doesn't normally say stuff like that. He's been around the block too many times, but he said it about this kid and I have to tell you that I've never seen a better mentalist or hypnotist show. Guy, he's only twenty-one, but he's a pro already, no rough edges."

That was fifteen years in the past and now The Amazing Randy was in town to work a benefit for Guy, whose club had recently burned to the ground after a grease fire in the kitchen had gotten out of control and reduced Guy's life's work to smoking cinders and insurance claims.

The venue for the benefit was Lansing's Playboy Club, which was, after all, nothing but a supper club with tits, lots of tits, bunny ears, and tails. Randy had never played the Playboy Club before because even though The Playboy Club in Lansing drew its on-stage talent from the same pool as The C's, Randy had restricted himself to one club per city on his tour out of loyalty to those owners who had given him his first breaks.

Most of the acts doing the benefit were local. Some second and third tier music acts had been lined-up and there were some national stand-up acts who had agreed to do a set over the course of the benefit, which had expanded to two nights. Guy had a lot of friends in show business, friendships like the one he had with The Amazing Randy. Like Randy, these acts had shuffled their schedules to open up one or two nights to help out an old friend.

Randy had agreed to do a full set on both nights of the benefit, but had requested that he be treated no differently than any other act, leaving the "headliner" honors to other, better known stand-up acts. Randy was already as famous as he wanted to be, content to fly under the national show-biz radar while he performed in small to medium-sized cities.

Over the course of his career, The Amazing Randy had turned down multiple offers to sign with talent agencies on both coasts. When agency advance men and women had dangled gigs at clubs in New York City, Las Vegas, Hollywood, and even Europe as potential venues for Randy, he'd thanked them all, but said "no". He was famous enough already.

Randy was afraid of national exposure, but not because of stage fright. If anything, he "loved the lights" and they loved him back. Randy knew that increased fame would bring questions, paparazzi, and closer scrutiny of his act. The master hypnotist wasn't worried that someone might expose something shady about his performances; there simply wasn't anything shady about them to be exposed.

He was worried that people would discover that not only was he the "World's Greatest Stage Hypnotist," but that he was the greatest hypnotist the world had ever seen, by far. The Amazing Randy used no trickery of any kind in his stage show, unless you included a few simple stage misdirections, common tools for all mentalist acts. The real illusion in The Amazing Randy's stage show was that there had to be some illusion, some trick, some fakery behind the hypnotist's comedy act.

There wasn't. A simple skin to skin contact was all it took for Randy to assume control of his "contestant's" behavior on stage. The swinging pocket watches, the mesmerizing rotating wheels, the flashing lights, well, they were the illusion, pure show-biz, designed to mask his true abilities, abilities which had first appeared out of nowhere during his senior year in high school.

And now here he was in the Playboy Club's green room, waiting for the call to the stage.

Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail

"Ladies and Gentlemen," announced the club's owner, "Give it up for The Amaaaazing, Randy!"

Randy, in his signature top hat and tails, bounded onto the stage and into the spotlight to modest applause.

"I would like to begin by saying that I have been proud to call Guy Rollins my friend for many years. I urge all of you to dig deep and give as much as you can to the fund to re-build 'The C's.' I would also like to thank The Playboy Club for hosting this benefit."

By previous arrangement with the lights technician, a second "follow spot" sought out the club's owner, who stood at the bar. He waved. The applause rose to a crescendo as the spill-over illuminated none other than Hugh Hefner, founder and patriarch of Playboy magazine and the system of clubs which the famous magazine had spawned.

Randy ignored the presence of the publishing and entertainment giant, and went straight into his act. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to remind you that the policy of the Playboy Club as well as my own, is that there is absolutely no nudity allowed on stage. All recordings, either audio or video, are strictly forbidden. Additionally, I ask that while on stage my "contestants" not use any blatantly crude or offensively foul language. I have it on good authority that our show's headliner will not be so prudish when he takes the stage later on."

"Now, Steve," he said with a grand sweeping gesture to the crowd, "why don't you help us find our first lucky contestant."

The spotlight raced back and forth stopping momentarily on one patron or another while Randy made jokes about their appearance. After a few short stops, the spotlight found its real objective, a young woman clad in the club's signature bunny ears and cotton tail. She smiled and waved to the crowd.

"Well folks, would you like to see this bunny hop?" Applause mixed with the occasional wolf whistle indicated that the crowd agreed with The Amazing Randy's choice. "OK, you guys," he said, "go easy. Remember, bunnies are naturally reluctant to, ah, 'show themselves' if there are wolves around. The object of the exercise is to get this lovely creature to come up on stage, not scurry back to her warm burrow. What do you say, young lady? Care to make a 'special' contribution to tonight's worthy cause?"

After a quick glance in the direction of the owner and a return nod in the affirmative, the attractive young woman walked towards the front of the room. Randy extended his hand, ostensibly to help her up onto the stage. As soon as he took her delicate hand he leaned in and whispered, "You will obey me completely."

Accompanying her to the center of the stage, the hypnotist took out a pocket watch and swung it back and forth as he said into the microphone, "You can feel your will bending to mine. When I snap my fingers, you will obey my commands. When I snap my fingers a second time you will wake up refreshed and wave to the crowd. Hopefully," he said leaning towards the crowded tables, "they'll be clapping..." He hesitated. "a lot."

A few laughs came from some of the tables.

Snap!

"Well, guys," he said to the audience, I imagine that what we have up here is pretty much a dream come true for a lot of you. Let's inspect this cute little bunny, just to make sure her uniform's on correctly, up to specs, so to speak. Miss, turn around slowly so our patrons can do a quick inspection."

The cute Playboy bunny did as she was told. She was athletically built, long auburn hair flowing over her delicate shoulders and obvious cleavage. He let her go through a revolution and a half and then said, "Stop." Immediately, the young hostess did as she was told. "Please bend at the waist."

Once the "contestant" had complied, rear end to the audience, Randy crept slowly around the jackknifed beauty, rubbing his chin and rolling his eyes. He brought his face to within a half-foot of the pure white cotton ball, raised his right hand, and let it slowly descend until it was just above her signature cotton tail. Careful not to actually touch her body, he pinched the white cotton ball and rapidly retracted his hand as if he'd received an electric shock. He stood up, sniffed his fingers and said, "Yep, that's 100% real warm soft bunny fur, alright."

The crowd broke into genuine laughter.

"OK, Cottontail," he said, "you can stand up and face the audience now." Cottontail did as she had been commanded.

"Folks, normally I invite multiple contestants to come up on the stage one at a time, but we have a great line-up to follow so I propose that we get Flopsy and Mopsy to come up and join Cottontail here for a little improv. One bunny to command is great, but three?" Randy spun around like a ballerina, clapping like a happy eight-year-old, until he stopped, wide-eyed, arms raised in triumph. "How about it, guys? Does it get any better than this? Let's get two of her friends to join her, shall we?"

The men whistled and hooted their agreement.

The spotlight searched the crowd, stopping on first one, and then a second hostess. When they came to the stage, Randy went through the gratuitous watch routine until all three beauties stood next to each other awaiting instructions. Randy turned to the audience and said, "Now that's what I call a 'thirty'." Leaning over to address one of the front row tables he said, "Madame, that's three times ten. Basic math, right guys?"

More laughs.

"OK, why don't you suggest some scenarios for our lovely and brave contestants. What should they be doing? Nothing too naughty now, he said with an exaggerated "stage wink."

"Leave that part to me."

"Strip!" shouted someone from the back of the room.

"Ah," Randy mused into the mike, "another slow learner. You're in the wrong club, buddy. I'm sure they'd welcome your taking out your massive wad," he paused, waiting for the right moment."...wad of singles that is, at one of the many... fine... local strip clubs here in the state capital. Nope, let's try again."

"Applying for a job!"

"Now that," The World's Greatest Stage Hypnotist said, "that we can work with. What kind of job?"

"Mall Cop!"

Randy laughed out loud. "I think we're ready to start."

Turning to the three scantily clad beauties, he said, "Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, the three of you are in the office at the local shopping mall interviewing for a job as a mall cop. I'll ask the questions. Your job is to reply, no matter what the question, with sexual innuendo. Feel free to make your point both verbally... or otherwise" he said as he pretended to heft his own imaginary chest and wiggle his behind. "Nod your head if you understand my instructions, please." All three nodded in the affirmative.

"Ladies, how would you stop a fleeing shoplifter?"

"I'm not so good at running. It's a balance thing," Mopsy said as she pushed her breasts together threatening to 'unleash the twins,' "Maybe I'd shoot him."

"Ah... we don't actually issue guns to our guards," said Randy.

"No need," said Mopsy, still 'pressing the flesh', "we bring our guns with us wherever we go, don't we girls?" Flopsy and Cottontail mimicked Mopsy's stance, pressing their own breasts together.

And what caliber might those impressive weapons of yours be?

"32" said Cottontail.

"38" said Mopsy.

"I was wondering why they called them 38 'specials'." The crowd laughed.

"Flopsy, what kind of firepower are you packing?" Flopsy's chest was, by far, the most prominent of the three.

"Forty-four magnums."

"Let me guess. You're not much of a runner either, are you?"

"Never had to. Most guys I know want to get taken down by these big pistolas."

The laughs kept coming.

"Ok, ladies, would one of you care to demonstrate your "stop and frisk" techniques?"

All three moved towards the hypnotist. "Stop!" he commanded.

Gazing towards the heavens, Randy raised his hands in mock prayer. "Oh, Lord, why doth thou tempt me so?"

"No, ladies, not on me, on each other. Mopsy and Cottontail, why don't you demonstrate how you might check Flopsy here for... uh... weapons. Be thorough."

The two mall-cops-in-training took up station on either side of their sister bunny. "Hands up," said Cottontail as she slowly and sensuously brought her hands down Flopsy's sides, giving the alleged "perp" a thorough pat-down.

Mopsy put her hands together and got down on her haunches saying, "OK lady, spread 'em." Flopsy complied while Mopsy patted her shapely legs all the way up to the very tops of her thighs.

"Don't forget to check her holsters." Cottontail reached for the top of Flopsy's bunny outfit and carefully pulled it out so she could peer at the biggest "guns" on the stage, but the crowd could only imagine the objects of her gaze. "Mopsy, come over here and get a load of these cannons." Mopsy did as Cottontail suggested, peering long and hard into the massive cleavage just out of the audience's sight.

She released the outfit and it snapped back into place. "Cottontail," she said. "We are seriously out-gunned!"

The room erupted into laughter. There would be no bigger laughs. It was time for the show to conclude.

"Thank you, ladies; why don't you take a well-deserved bow?"

The three beauties, already well-versed in the famous "bunny dip," bent low at the waist to thunderous applause and wolf whistles. "Oh yeah," he said. "Did you know that Farmer MacGregor's garden gate is open? It's over there. His cabbages are almost ripe. Get down and hop on over. I'll let you in."

Once the three voluptuous hostesses had gotten down on all fours and "hopped" to the stage stairs, The Amazing Randy ended their trance with a "Snap!"

The girls stood up, clearly a bit confused, but smiling as they realized that the applause was for them. The three waved to the audience and left the stage.

Randy turned to the crowded tables and said, "Please remember, folks, why you are here tonight. This is a ben-e-fit. Help Guy out as much as you can. I pledge $10,000 in addition to my humble contribution up here. One more thing. Your lovely hostesses and bartenders aren't here to attend the show, they're working the show and I know that at least three of them worked extra hard for you. Please, tip all of the wait staff generously."

"With that," said Randy in a grand bow, and cupping imaginary breasts of his own, "me and my itsy-bitsy Derringers bid you all a fond goodnight!"

The applause increased as table after table rose to its feet. Randy stood alone under the spotlight while he soaked-in the lifeblood which powers all stage performers, and then briskly exited stage right. The next act, a local stand-up favorite smiled at the hypnotist and laughed. "Thanks a lot Randy. How the hell do I follow that?"

"You'll figure it out. Break a leg."

The announcer introduced the young comic, who strode onto the stage and took the microphone. Eyeing the still chuckling patrons, he said. "Look at me." And then, taking off his belt he swung it back and forth, mimicking the previous act. "You will forget how hard you laughed at The Amazing Randy." After a five second pause he said "Right, fat freaking chance. Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up again for The Amaaazing Randy! He turned to face his fellow performer, bowed low, and winked.

Randy mouthed back "Thanks. Knock 'em dead," as he gave two thumbs up and made for the green room.

A Knock on the Dressing Room Door

Randy sat in his dressing room taking off his make-up, fake hairpiece, and false whiskers. A soft knock at the door was followed by a small crack and a voice. It was the club's owner. "Randy, mind if I come in for just a moment?"

"No problem. How can I help you?"

"I take it that you noticed who was watching your show with me."

"Mr. Hefner is pretty famous. Yeah, I noticed him. What did he think of the show?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself? He's right outside."

"Please ask him to wait another thirty seconds while I finish up here and then I'll ask him to come in."

Randy opened the door and invited his guest to join him. "Mr. Hefner, how can I help you?"

"Hef, please."

"OK, Hef. How can I help you?"

"I just saw you perform. You're a funny man. How come I haven't heard of you?"

"Haven't you read my magazine? I've seen yours," said the hypnotist, smiling.

Hef laughed. "Tell me Randy, that is your real name, right?" Randy nodded. "Guy tells me that he's known you for years and that you're a stand-up kind of guy."

"Know him well, do you?"

"Just met him tonight. Tell me Randy, do you do private parties?"

"As a general rule, no. What do you have in mind?"

"How would you like an all-expenses paid trip to L.A.?"

"In exchange for what, Hef?"

"I'd like you to come stay at the Mansion as my guest and maybe do a couple of shows, low key of course, for my girls and some selected special guests. I will pay you your usual club rate, all expenses, and donate ten thousand dollars to Guy's fund. What do you say, Randy?"

"Well, Hef, that's a very tempting offer. I will accept provided you agree to a few simple preconditions."

"Such as?"

"First, If I agree to come out, I want absolutely no media attention. That's zero publicity, period. You asked me why you hadn't heard of me. It's because I'm not even remotely interested in the kind of fame you endure. I'm a private person and I like where I'm at fame-wise. That includes the magazine as well. No pictures, no write-ups, nothing. I'll come out, accept your generous hospitality for say, three days and nights, do a few shows, as many as five, including matinees. I can make the daytime stuff low key, less 'formal' if you'd like, maybe do a couple of tricks, get a few laughs or I can do a full show, whichever you like. Regardless, this no publicity thing is non-negotiable, Hef. Agree, or it's a deal-breaker.

"What else?"

"There can be no recordings of my act, either audio or video. If any of your guests want a picture with me, I must be in my stage clothes. No pictures of the man you see here. When I'm not performing, I'll just blend in and soak up some sun while I enjoy your famous hospitality. I'll create my own cover story if I need to."

"Finally, I make around two thousand per show. My ten grand plus your ten grand makes twenty. You heard me promise ten thousand to Guy's fund. Tell you what, let's make it an even fifty grand to the fund between us. You can donate thirty-five grand and I'll donate my time and fifteen grand in cash. I'll even throw in another two shows and a fourth night. You and your guests will get your money's worth. How's next week work for you? I can clear my schedule. What do you say, Hef?"

"I can live with that."

Randy extended his hand to shake. Hef took it. Randy took a moment to probe his mind. "Hef," he said, "you will not break our agreement." Randy led his guest to the door. As Hef walked down the corridor, Randy added, "See you in a week."