Janis Joplin impersonator in a future America that has collapsed economically, from the 1980 science fiction short story "The Feast of St. Janis" by Michael Swanick, originally published in New Dimensions 11.
"Is that why you're doing the show, then?" Wolf asked, curious.
Maggie laughed. "Hell no. I do it because I got the chance. DiStephano got in touch with me—"
"DiStephano? The comptroller?"
"One of his guys, anyway. They had this gig all set up and they needed someone to play Janis. So they ran a computer search and came up with my name. And they offered me money, and I spent a month or two in Hopkins being worked over, and here I am. On the road to fame and glory." Her voice rose and warbled and mocked itself on the last phrase.
"Why did you have to go to Hopkins?"
"You don't think I was born looking like this? They had to change my face around. Changed my voice too, for which God bless. They brought it down lower, widened out my range, gave it the strength to hold onto them high notes and push 'em around."
"Not to mention the mental implants," Cynthia said. "Oh, yeah, and the 'plants so I could talk in a bluesy sorta way without falling out of character," Maggie said. "But that was minor."
Wolf was impressed. He had known that Hopkins was good, but this-! "What possible benefit is there for them?"
"Beats the living hell out of me, lover-boy. Don't know, don't care, and don't ask. That's my motto."
A long-haired pale young man sitting nearby said, "The government is all hacked up on social engineering. They do a lot of weird things, and you never find out why. You learn not to ask questions."
It does not end well for her.