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M U S K
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KARAOKE BARS HAD DIVERSIFIED in China, and they now enabled their guests to embarrass themselves in a dizzying array of mediums. When Croon arrived at the Flying Carp (as recommended by the Castrator of Canton) there was a guy on stage acting out the lead role from Enter the Dragon. He was fitted into a VR suit which superimposed his
movements on to footage of Bruce Lee's seminal work. Croon settled into a corner by himself, bought a packet of cigarettes, ordered a Moutai. Defend your essence. That's all I can say. Hmmm, if that wasn't a tip-off, then Croon didn't know what was. He was beginning to think the whole point of the Guangzhou stopover was to be delivered those words. Obviously, the Flying Carp disguised the next piece of the jigsaw. So he sat, and he waited. Presently an outbreak of applause rattled Croon out of his thoughts and forced him to return his attention to the stage. The Bruce Lee impersonator was gone, his kung fu soundtrack replaced by a MIDI of When the Saints Go Marching In. This was obviously the major floorshow for the evening. Women in silver lycra danced through puffs of sparkling smoke. Then, hooting tremendously, a massive pink elephant ambled out on stage. It scooped up one of the girls with its trunk and tossed her on to its back. And the agent thought: Defend your essence. What was going on here?
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