The ship’s band queued up a crescendo of creepy music, reminiscent of impending doom that grew louder.
The curtain glided open, revealing the team of contestants: the Garden Girls, a family of four adults and a couple who had hit Millie’s radar during the interviews, an interesting duo with rich southern accents and sporting casual clothing, even by cruise ship standards, which may have been an understatement. The man wore a pair of denim bib overalls, a sleeveless fire-engine red T-shirt, and a pair of scuffed brown cowboy boots.
His companion, whom Millie discovered was his young wife, wore tight-fitting cutoff shorts, a modest blouse and matching boots, struck her as being the most outgoing of the two.
Donovan introduced the contestants to the audience and briefly explained the simple rules. “These clever passengers, with the help of the house band, will be given a theme and a set amount of time to come up with song lyrics, to which the band will add music.”
Microphone in hand, he turned to the group. “Do you have any questions?”
Jolene, the young wife’s hand shot up. “Clean or questionable?”
“Clean or questionable what?”
“Lyrics.”
“This is a family-friendly audience. You’ll need to save the R-rated version for another time.”
Danielle nudged Millie. “What is she doing?”
“I have no idea.” Millie watched as Jolene leaned back in her chair, relaxing her legs in an unladylike manner with her thighs spread apart.
“Is she trying to flash the audience?”
“I hope not.”
Danielle tilted her head. “She has some sort of tattoo on her upper thigh.”
“What is it?” Millie craned her neck.
Donovan strode across the stage in front of them. “The theme of your song is about our darling cruise director, Millie and / or Siren of the Seas.”
“Got it,” Ruth said. “I already have a few lines in mind.”
“Perfect.” Donovan motioned to the family. “Are you ready to tap into your creative muse?”
“Raring to go and ready to roll.”
“What about you, my lovely newlyweds?”
Skeeter, Jolene’s husband, tapped the side of his forehead, his breath whistling through the gaping hole in his mouth. “Been workin’ on ‘em since the moment you picked us.”
Donovan turned to address the audience. “While the contestants brainstorm, our ventriloquist, Mervin, and his sidekick will offer thoughts on what they think makes a great song.”
The curtain swung shut. Millie hurried over. “Well?”
Donovan lowered his voice, glancing toward the teams who sat huddled together. “What’s up with Jolene?”
“She’s striking some interesting poses.” Millie rubbed her forehead. “I hope I didn’t make a mistake by picking them.”
“As long as they keep it clean, we should be okay.”
Long moments passed with Millie and Donovan checking in on the teams, reminding them the clock was ticking. At the fifteen-minute mark, the curtains opened. Mervin and Flash exited, and the house band began to play.
The family of four took their place at the center stage, belting out a ditty about chogs, commonly known as chair hogs, cramming into crowded elevators and teasing Millie about hosting tons of trivia.
“Well done. Bravo.” Donovan clapped his hands. “Let’s move on to the Garden Girls. Please join me at the front of the stage to sing your song.”
The band began playing again, this time a more upbeat tempo with traces of tropical tunes, while Ruth, Dot, Liz, Margaret and Lucy stepped up to the microphones.
