"The Great Gisele" Chapter One (Script, higher tiers only)

It was showtime at G.G. Abrams Middle School Hall, and The Great Gisele, Master Hypnotist, was looking forward to it. School nights weren’t her first choice, of course – a young audience was a tricky audience; cynical or annoying at turns and horribly unpredictable. But she’d earned her title fair and square, and she enjoyed a challenge.

That was, if the principal didn’t put them all to sleep before she got her chance. She glanced through the stage-side curtains as the principal continued his introduction. What a dull man. Grey suit, balding on top… His tie was the most interesting thing about him, and considering it was paisley, that was saying something. But he was nearly done, and then she’d be able to get started.

Gisele moved her view to the audience, and clicked her tongue cheerfully. The auditorium had a wide mix of ages; university-aged older siblings, parents, even an odd grandparent here and there. That meant she didn’t have to bother with the kid-friendly fake hypnosis show. She could skip to the good part, once she’d gotten rid of any young ones in the audience.

Well, that was what the yo-yo was for.

“And without further ado… the Great Gisele!”

Scattered applause. Hm. They could do better, but that would come later. Gisele strode onto the stage, and let the stunned silence hit as the adults in the audience looked her up and down. Most of them had never seen a real stage hypnotist before. She had on a long, sparkling dress in midnight-blue with matching elbow-length gloves, and her blonde hair cascaded down the back of her neck. Her stiletto heels clacked against the polished wood of the stage as she made her entrance, and her nylon-clad legs slid into view out of the high slit in the side of her dress, catching the eye of several audience members. Mostly the older men – but not only the men, she noted in amusement.

“Hello everyone! I am so glad to be here tonight.” She began to roll the yoyo back and forth across her palm, not even acknowledging it. It was glass, with swirls of paint inside of it that spun into patterns as it rolled off her hand and down on its string. “Hypnosis gets a bad rep, even among stage magicians. We aren’t cutting people in half or making rabbits disappear. Most of you probably came here already assuming it’s fake – which is fine by me. Convincing you that it’s real is part of the trick, after all.”

There were a few scattered laughs from the crowd. She grinned, flipping her hair and walking along the stage. Some of the younger members of the audience in the front row were already starting to glaze over, attention fixed on the rolling yo-yo as it dropped up and down, longer and lower each time. “Most of you youngsters-“ the yo-yo swung down, the slight emphasis on her target subjects unnoticed by the crowd at large, “have probably seen that old chestnut with the hypnotist telling you how sleepy you’re getting.” Down, then up, streaks of paint on glass glimmering in the stage lights. “How your eyes are getting heavy, how you can feel yourself drifting away-“ Down, up, and never stopping its movements- “That old-fashioned thing,” she said sweetly, her voice not changing its lilting tone.

The younger ones in the front row, the ones she could see the most clearly, were slack-jawed with lips slightly parted and eyes glassy. One of them had brought his phone to play on, and it was so loose in his fingers it was almost dropping to the floor, the brightly-coloured game going ignored.

“In fact,” Gisele snapped her fingers, an explosion of sound through the lilting quiet of her voice, “Sleep.”

Every adolescent in the audience dropped into a deep sleep with a clatter of backpacks, phones, and heads falling onto shoulders. There was a rise of confused noise from the crowd (well, those left awake); Gisele bowed slightly.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my first trick! I’m sure plenty of you were dreading having to keep them quiet anyway.”

More laughter, this time louder and more genuine. She did so love it when she got the crowd on her side. She blew them a cheeky kiss, and leant down a little further than she needed to, the low-cut neckline of her dress exposing her feminine figure as a distraction to the front row. “I will need…let’s start with five volunteers.”

*CHAPTER TWO out 2nd Feb*