Shatnerquake by Jeff Burk

door.
               
    The room was fifty feet wide and went back twenty.   The walls were lined with tables loaded down with booze and food and about a dozen metal folding chairs.   Gold balloons danced about the ceiling with the air conditioning and the walls draped with gold streams.   A few scattered purses and backpacks were about.   The partiers must have fled the room in a hurry when everything started going down.
               
    Bob turned the deadbolt on the door and push in the knob lock.   He leaned against the door and looked around.
     
    “I think we’re in the Green Room,” he said.
     
    “About…damn time…I…found this place,” Shatner said heading for the table piled high with sandwich meat.
     
    “You’re braver than I am,” said Bob going for the wine and cheese spread, “who knows how long that meat has been sitting out.”
     
    “When you’ve…been on…the convention circuit…as long…as I have,” Shatner said through an over-filled mouth, “you…can…handle anything.”
     
    Bob snorted and began to gorge himself on fine cheeses.   Both men were ravenous.   It had been a very eventful day.  
     
    Bob heard a very faint sound of movement behind him.   It was barely noticeable but he was sure he heard it.  
     
    He spun around and heard a much louder noise, like someone ducking for cover.   He scanned the room.   The room was decently large but there was nowhere for anyone to hide.   From where he stood, Bob could see under all the tables.   All the chairs were folding chairs, so no one could be hiding behind them.   The only door was the door that led back into the hallway and he was sure no one had opened it—the bolt was still locked.      
     
    “Hey Bill.”
     
    “Yeah,” he said through a mashed up combination of salami, brie, and melon balls.
     
    “I think there’s someone else in the room.”
     
    Shatner froze and forced the mouthful of food down his throat.   His head slowly turned as he looked for any sign of an intruder.
     
    “I…don’t see…anyone,” said Shatner.
     
    “Neither do I,” Bob’s eyes fiercely narrowed, “but I heard them.”
               
    Bob motioned for Shatner to move forward and they began to slowly move across the room.   Their senses were on edge, trying to identify the intruder.   They made it to the other side of the room, but there was no indication of anybody.  
               
    “I think…you’re…losing it,” said Shatner.
               
    “Wait,” said Bob pointing, “that wasn’t there before.”
               
    In the left corner of the room was a full-sized cardboard cutout of Captain Kirk.   The display was not made from a photo-however, it was an artists rendition of the Starfleet hero done with a sixties pop-art vibe.  
               
    “Are you sure…you just…didn’t notice it?”
               
    Bob approached the cutout.   “Not a chance.   This is a display of the woefully short lived Star Trek: Animated Series Kirk.”  
               
    He stood directly in front of Cartoon Kirk and stared intently at the face.   “Incredible.   I never even knew these were made.   I thought I had the full collection of cutouts but somehow I miss—”
                
    Cartoon Kirk blinked.
               
    Bob jumped back and tripped over his own feet.   “Holy shit,” he gasped as he fell on his ass.
               
    The cutout sprung to life and turned its side to Bob.   It was gone.
               
    Bob got to his feet and looked around—there was no sign of Cartoon Kirk.  
               
    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he started walking around the edge of the room in a wide arc.   He motioned to Shatner to do the same.  
               
    As he passed the cheese table, Bob snatched a large knife off it.   Shatner saw this and quickly