The Doctor Is In

The Penguin's A Jinx

Present Day

   According to the posters in front of the Gotham Opera, the show playing is titled: Bluebeard’s Castle. While Ozzy is definitely familiar with the show (pulling his usual stunt of getting up and singing along during the male solos), he seldom ever explains the storyline to me, insisting, that I should simply enjoy the show, regardless of its plot. But, how can I understand what’s going on? These operas are never in English.

During the show, I chuckle when Ozzy sings along with the male lead, much to the displeasure of the others seated around us. He takes notice of this, turning around and smiling at me. The momentary solo ends, and Ozzy returns to his seat, but this time he wraps his arm around mine. I turn to him, as I feel a warmth grow in my chest. I can’t believe it, I think I still love him. But, as I look at his pudgy figure, balding head, and remembering the foul smell of cigarettes whenever his breath draws near, I also realize that he has lost his physical appeal to me. His life of crime and decadence has aged him far beyond his years, making him appear at least twenty years older than he actually is. Yet I allow him to cling to me further, feeling his tuxedo brush up against my shoulder.

“Well, I have to say, that was a wonderful play.” I admit as we exit the theatre.

Our arms still linked, Ozzy lifts up my hand and kisses it, “Only the best for you, my darling.”

The Iceberg Lounge is nearly empty when we return, with only a few remaining waiters around cleaning up the tables. Ozzy leads me back to his office, but he doesn’t put me back in the imported jail cell. Instead, he leads me into the side room in his office, which turns out to be a small living quarters with the main attraction being a plush velvet double bed...with another woman already waiting on it,

“Boss, you’re back.” the woman greets in a almost sickeningly sweet voice. She gets up and starts walking toward us, her heels clacking as she lowers her glasses, “Who’s the friend?”

“Candy, I won’t be needing you tonight.” Ozzy tells her, opening the door for her.

“Oh, c’mon boss, you know I’m always up for a...threesome.” she places her hand on my chin, but I push it away,

“Sorry, but you’re not my type.” I tell her coldly.

She takes a slow, sultry stroll around me, examining me, “...Tracey was right. We do look alike, except for the...well, you know.” she completes her circle, giving her own breasts a light push, “Boss, don’t tell me you’re out-sourcing me to this cheap thing.”

“Goodnight Candy.” he grumbles, pushing her out the door.

“Boss, boss...I, I can do it for half-price, just for you baby...boss?” she’s cut off as the door is shut behind her.

“I’m assuming the fact that we look alike is no coincidence, am I correct?” I ask him, putting my hands on my hips.

“A plaything, my relationship with her was that of a simple transaction, but I have no need for her now.” he removes his tuxedo jacket and gives a malicious grin, “Now, I have you.”

Wait, what? Oh no, no no no, this is not happening.

“Ozzy, you really want to...after only one night? Don’t you think we’re going a bit too fast?”

He grabs the back of my neck, and I half expect him to start strangling me, “My dear, anything is possible when love is involved.”

He pulls me into a kiss, and I instinctually know to bend my head at just the right angle to avoid his nose. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he leads me to the bed. We collapse down onto it, and Ozzy reaches over as we kiss to draw the curtains around the bed, concealing us from view.