Grease-ssassins Part TwoByck was humming tunelessly along to the horrible music as he adjusted one of the old lights. Booth had given up searching for him these days –the maladjusted Santa Claus was invariably in one of two places: the tech booth or the catwalks. Leaning against the railing, Booth stared down at the stage below.
"Charlie my love, Charlie my love, Charlie my luh-uve!" Squeaky skipped on stage, wearing a horrible sort of pyjama set, and earning a nasty look from Hinkly for her singing.
"It's meant to be 'Freddie.'" He muttered at her. "You're getting the words wrong."
"But I asked the Proprieter and he said it would be okay, because Charlie is so wonderful and I love him!" She beamed at Hinkly, her entire face lighting up at the thought of her sociopathic boyfriend. "After all, he's not a real charecter in this show."
"When she's wearing a low cut shirt, you can see right down it." Booth jumped at the words, then shot Byck a dirty look. The techie was leaning on the railing beside him, having s