Maelstrom Extra: A Good Sport

Ricky checked the time on his BlackBerry, then darted a glance toward the back of the bus, where Bo lay on the lounge sofa, engrossed in a porn video. Should he bother him? Ricky stood up. It never hurt to ask.

Bo grinned lazily at his approach. “Care to join me, human?”

Ricky tried to ignore the wet and thrusting bodies on the plasma screen. “I was wondering if I could watch the game.”

Bo stared for a moment, not understanding. “You mean sports?”

“Football, to be specific. But yes, sports.”

“This is a sport, too, and I’m getting some interesting new ideas.”

“You seem to have plenty of ideas already.”

“It’s never enough.” Bo gestured toward the screen. “Like what they’re doing right now, for example. I wouldn't have thought three people in a waterbed could do that with a paper bag and a torque wrench.”

Ricky refused to look, since he had a feeling he didn’t want to know. “So is there any chance you could watch this on the DVD player in your bunk?”

Bo scowled. “We’re demons and this is our tour bus. Humans don’t make the rules.”

“I’m also an invited guest and deserve a little hospitality.”

“We let you have the kitchenette.” Bo turned back to his movie, mumbling, “Humans! Do them one little favor and they think you’ll make a habit of it.”

Ricky returned to his seat at the kitchenette table, wishing Maelstrom was a little more like the bands he was accustomed to managing. If they were human, not only would the game have been on the TV without him having to ask, but he wouldn’t have felt compelled to tour with them in the first place. It was only because they couldn’t be trusted that Ricky felt he had to monitor their every move.

With a sigh, he picked up his BlackBerry and started searching for a website from which to follow the game. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but he’d at least be able to keep up with the score. He was trying to get comfortable on the cushioned banquette when a shadow fell across the table.

“Hey, primate,” Bo said, striking a tough guy pose but refusing to meet his eyes. “I was up late and I’m going to get a little shut-eye. Remote’s on the sofa, if you want it.”

Ricky watched him walk toward his bunk, but knew better than to say a word. Whether this was incubus generosity or just a happy coincidence didn’t matter. He went to the lounge and found the remote resting next to a DVD of The Cheerleader Whores of Lecherous U. Was this Bo’s idea of a joke or was it his tacit way of saying he understood where Ricky was coming from?

Ricky set the DVD aside and started scrolling through the channels, looking for ESPN. Regardless of Bo’s motivations, there was no denying that sometimes he was a damn good sport.