"'Tis
nae yammering. 'Tis scat singing, and it's verra popular on Tetran
Beta. All the ladies are a soft touch for a man who can scat, and I
intend to be in fine form when we arrive."
"Nevertheless, you will stop now. Secondly, there is only one shower on
Scorpio, and it is my turn to use it."
"All
right, all right. Dinna lose your hair over it." Jarriere grabbed a
towel off the rack and wrapped himself in it. "'Tis all yours." He
stalked from the washroom.
Avon disrobed and climbed eagerly
into the shower cubicle. He always relished a good, hot, soapy wash,
and for all its flaws, Scorpio had an excellent shower. The acoustics
were also excellent. "Mmmm," he gave a tentative hum. Usually he
preferred the classics, but he wondered if perhaps . . .
no. On the
other hand, why not? The rest of the crew were at the other end of the
ship. Now, how did it work? Scowza doo bop-bop? Just nonsense
syllables, apparently.
He
cleared his throat, and sang softly: "Doo, doo too 'n dah." He felt a
little silly, but the ship hadn't exploded around him. He tried again.
"Boop doop'n dat'n dah wow." Not too bad, really. Rather enjoyable.
Beginning
to feel it now, he sang a little louder as he soaped himself.
"Squee-tee doodly oodul dat dah bop! Dah-bah dah-bah dah-bah, doot
doo-wop! Bop'n dit'n dat'n zoomin' doot-toot doo! Fit'n fat'n moot'n
mat'n boo-boo-woo!" He didn't notice his voice growing louder and more
confident with every beat. "Datoo datoo wipu wapu zoot-soo who! Deet'n
deet'n wow--"
He heard a soft noise and paused. He waited, but
it didn't recur. He started singing again, but listened carefully.
"Doot'n doo scow-bow--"
Yes! That was definitely a noise. He
shut off the water and threw open the shower door, all in one motion.
What he saw horrified him. Dayna, Soolin, and a fully clothed Jarriere,
all doubled over, hands over their mouths and trying not to laugh.
When they saw him, the last of their self-control failed. They laughed
so hard they had to cling to each other for support.
"That was so . . . so . . ." Soolin
started, but couldn't get the rest out.
"Dweet bop'n doot-doo," chortled Dayna.
Jarriere beamed at the women. "Told ye I could get him to try it."
"That
you did," laughed Soolin, handing over a twenty-credit chip. Dayna gave
him another. The three of them smirked at Avon one last time and
departed, still giggling.
Avon felt naked. Come to think of it, he was
naked. He slammed the cubicle door shut, switched on the water and sang
at the top of his lungs: "La donna e mobile qual piuma al vento, muta
d'accento e di pensiero . . ."