Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming

Chapter 9

After recovering his credit card and putting Princess Scarlet back where she belonged, Azzie continued on to Paris, long one of his favorite cities. He had decided to stay away from Augsburg for a few days in order to give Prince Charming a chance to moon over the miniature of Prin­cess Scarlet which he had been forbidden to touch, and so fall in love with her according to the rules of psychology.

What better way to pass some time than in riotous living in one of the satanic clubs that Paris was famous for even then?

The one he chose, the Heliogabulus Club, was in a cave under Paris. After going down an endless flight of stone stairs, he came out in a grotto furnished with skulls and skeletons. Torches flamed in their iron wall-holders, casting gloomy shad­ows here and there. The tables were sarcophagi brought in by some ingenious entrepreneur from Egypt, where they have a never-ending supply of them. Coffins of the more ordinary sort served as chairs. Drinks were served by menials dressed in priests' cassocks and nuns' habits. These wretches also served as complaisant bodies for the orgies that climaxed most eve­nings' entertainments. Sex and death: it was one of Europe's first theme bars.

"What'll you have?" a heavyset man in priest's garb asked Azzie.

"Give me an expensive imported beer," Azzie told him. "And do you have anything to eat?"

"Nachos," the servitor said.

"What are they?"

"Something which François the Expeditious brought back from the New World."

So Azzie had the nachos, which turned out to be oat chips covered in a smelly Camembert with tomato sauce over them. He washed them down with a piggard of dark ale imported from England and started feeling better at once.

As Azzie was eating he had the feeling that someone was watching him. He began looking around the room. There was a table in a far corner which was dark, unlighted even by a candle. He could perceive movement in the gloom. The sense of being watched seemed to emanate from there.

Azzie decided to ignore it at first. He ordered up another plate of nachos and switched to wine. After a while he began to grow tipsy. Then, as the evening rollicked on, Azzie became drunk. Not just pig drunk, but demon drunk. That was very drunk indeed. He began to sing a little song that demons from Canaan sing when they are having a good time. The lines went:

Oh, I am feeling no pain

And I haven't any name

For the fine old fun

That often doth come

When I'm drunk and feeling no pain.

The song had several other verses, but he was having difficulty remembering them, or, indeed, anything else. It was very late. He had the feeling he'd been in this place a long time. Looking around, he saw that the other patrons had fled. What had they put into his wine? He was dizzy now; far more than tipsy, he was staggering drunk. There was an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he wasn't sure he could stand up. Finally, with great deliberation, he brought himself to his feet. "Who's doing this to me?" he said, but the words came out all garbled.

"Hello there, Azzie," a voice said behind him.

Azzie had the feeling he'd heard this voice before. He tried to turn around. But just then something heavy crashed into the back of his head, near the left ear, always a delicate spot in demons. Normally he could throw off the effects of a blow like that. You don't put a demon down easily. But this time, com­bined with the strong spirits and with whatever somebody may have mixed into the drink, he had no resistance. Damnation! He had gotten himself into a spot. And that was all he thought at the moment, because he passed out so quickly he wasn't aware of doing so until much later.