CHUM by John T Buckley - HTML preview

“Why do you ask?” Fred asked drunkenly, and he sat back and coughed until his back hurt like a bricklayer’s.

“Good, it’s just the hills are burning again, I was worried.” Jen knew she had to calm down-as she knew she’d end up playing the crying game if she didn’t-and this left her no choice, but to buck-up. “I’m going to invite you up here to our apartment, so we can all hang out. Are you up for it?” Jen hoped as she watched Jim doing pushups on the floor; he had his shirt off and his muscles were rippling like late November football practice.

“Yeah, can do, give me like 20 minutes,” Fred said as he pulled on his pants. He had to cover his pale, thin and boney legs that he owed to his Canadian hockey playing father; his stay at home mum gave him his humility-and not so average height. “BYsy!” Fred said sounding lackadaisical, and regretting his goodbye the second it came out his mouth. He looked at his cheeseburger; then tossed it hard into the ship made of Budweiser cans on the window sill. Fred threw on some dirty socks and a hoodie; and hurried went up the stairs to Jen’s apartment.

Jen laughed at his pathetic-junior high girl’s cheer squad-goodbye, so hard, she fell off the bed. She composed herself after a minute; and called Jack and Scott; they were fine and far from in any danger just 2 floors down from her. She invited them over-still laughing though at Fred in between her words-and they all raced their butts up to her place.

Ben and Julie had finished loading up the limo: and looked back to see their house starting to burn.

Ben took one last look as they drove away, and he was reminded of several orgies he had held there in his younger years. He wondered if anyone had ever had as much fun as he did back then.

“Ben, I need to know if we have insurance?” asked Julie, she was calculating the insurance money already.

Ben grinned, then shrugged his shoulders and said coyly,” Yes and no.” Ben bounced on the heels of his designer Gucci shoes and laughed. “Yes if it matters to you, and no if it don’t. Just kidding, YES we have insurance, and we are fine. Julie, remember the parties, not the fire. Do me that favor,” said Ben as he reached over and put his arm around Julie. Julie melted into his embrace like butter in a hot pan.

“I will,” responded Julie sadly as she waved goodbye to the house. “And those lovely drapes,” Julie spoke with her voice tinny but clear. They rode out the front gate; and saw flames on either side of the street. The paint on the limo was being cooked right off of it like new cheese-Ben wondered if they’d be cooked alive- and the metal was melting. The driver swerved to miss a falling tree (lit up like a stack of newspapers in a bonfire).

“Holy shit!” cried Ben as his thoughts started to race. “Get us out of here!” growled Ben angrily, as he saw flames not even 3 feet from his window. He knew then he might die a horrific death and never win the big one, Oscar.

“I’m trying, Sir!” yelled the driver frantically as he swerved out around the flaming debris. “They’re everywhere!” he shouted nervously, as he tried to swerve in and around the balls of flames-that were coming from Mr. Barker’s 200 year old English rose garden-and raining down on the street like the winter’s heaviest (buy a shovel) snowstorm.

Instantly the windows started to melt, then suddenly they all burst. The inside of the limo was so hot, it felt like they were being pressed face first onto a barbecue pit in some extra’s backyard.

”NOT NOW GOD, NOT NOW!!” screamed Julie.

Ben shielded her from the bursts of flames (there was one every second, and he hoped it would be enough) that shot in the windows every so often. He sat there like old butter and wet bread, knowing full well they had a 50/50 chance of living.

“All quiet now, please stay quiet,” Ben demanded as his eyes darted from side to side like a puppet at the circus. “We’re fine, the road is clearing out up ahead. Just hold tight, Julie, we’ve seen worse,” Ben said as he hugged Julie; and he could feel the back of his jacket starting to get red hot. He rolled over and put out the flames-on the stainless steel General Electric fridge-and then clutched Julie.

“I don’t want to die, too early for that, Ben,” Julie said tearfully as her eyes welled up with fear; and she felt like she was looking through a waterfall. “I dunno. Please let us through, please let us almighty god,” Julie begged tearfully as she clutched Ben’s forearm so tight it left a red tattoo.

They could see a man in flames; and he came running out of his driveway just ahead. He turned-with eyes only ambulance drivers have to see-and sprinted towards the limo. He poked his flaming head in the window and Ben saw it was Larry.

“Larry?” Ben’s asked in a shrill voice, giving Julie a panic attack. “Oh god, STOP!!” shrieked Ben as he put out the flames on Larry’s face and hair (he did this with his jacket by batting it down and out).

Larry said,” We did it,” and fell backwards onto the pavement like a mannequin being pushed by a rambunctious teen.

“Help him, Ben, quick!” Julie pleaded as she wiped away her tears; and she looked out the window at a pair of women in flames (and they would surely be calling the funeral home from heaven for coffin advice before long).

Ben jumped out and spied some Harikrishnas; they were dancing around fire kissed branches and cars. He looked at one hoping for emotion; but he saw nothing but stoned coming off of him. He bent down and looked Larry in the eye, and saw his friend staring back momentarily, but then seizing up a second later. He knew enough to know leaves are always dead, and so was Larry. He heard a loud thunderous ripping of branches above him; and he could see a large branch of the Sycamore tree hanging over the limo (and about to snap). He knew those flames would kill Julie dead; therefore he quickly jumped back into the limo.

“Get us outta HERE!” Ben shouted with venom in his voice. “Damn it, Julie, he’s dead,” Ben said angrily, as he slapped his hands hard together a single time. The limo sped away-Ben sobbing into his hands, and wishing for help from anywhere it would come from-and the tree fell right where they had been a moment ago.

From the intense heat around them and the endless high end debris floating through the air (Literally handbags that cost more than the average person’s paycheck) Ben felt like he had no more luck left to use.

They raced around the winding hills-like someone who could pay the fucking ticket would-and saw mansion after mansion in flames. People were carrying Emmys and Oscars, as they fled their mansions.

Ben had to double take: at the who’s who of famous people he saw running for it. He didn’t help them, as it was not the thing to do for strangers in Hollywood. He simply sat and watched some of them die; mostly from falling trees and intense heat so hot they were dead before they knew it. And he watched all this through the hole where the rearview window had been. It looked like a bad movie, and he hated being the star.

“If we live I love you, if we don’t I always did,” Julie insisted as she checked her purse.

Ben looked over at Julie after saying this; and he started to cry without the tears. He knew he was lucky to have her at his side, but until now he didn’t know how lucky.

“I know, Gorgeous, I always did,” Ben caressed her arm and kissed her about the face. “Damn, if this isn’t the worst of days, then I can, wait for tomorrow. Ya know time never stops chasing the standing. You can run, but it will catch you sure as hell if you don’t,” Ben said philosophically as he started to weep; and he thought of losing his dear friend Larry. He wished they had left sooner; and maybe (though it was frowned upon) not been so hardheaded. He looked out the window and saw now they were nearing the last of the flames rising in a gyre. He breathed a sigh of relief; that quickly faded into deeper thoughts. He was alive, he thought, thank God.

Julie, Fred, Scott, Jack, and Jim were watching the flames from their rooftop on beanbag chairs marked FREE IF YOU TAKE THEM. They watched as all the fire crews would go into the flames and the people came barreling out (most of which in flames). Many of their cars were discarded; this happened when their garages caught fire unexpectedly. They all knew it was every man and women for themselves, but they regretted being assholes to everyone, just a little. The new HOLLYWOOD AND

STARLAND sign was engulfed in a torrent of flames. Out the sides of it wannabes fell helplessly out with their clothing in flames. They weren’t famous yet, but they still knew they were big time (even as they burned to death). If you can’t rejoice when all around you there are worries-and carcasses most foul-then you just aren’t enjoying this festival of life enough, thought Jim.

“Is this really happening?” Jim asked unsure he was even awake. “Because I am blown away right now,” said Jim as he watched a famous male actor come running out of the fire-more than scale actor in fact-and past the ravaged hills; and he was wearing nothing and carrying 2 Oscars. Jim looked right at him; and he didn’t even notice Jim at all.

“What the heck, why isn’t there some sort of firehouse or firefighters already up there?” Fred wondered as he swallowed hard (the bile of fear). How dumb are they?” Fred asked, unaware just how dumb and corrupt city hall officials often are in L.A. He drank the last of his warm Coors light; and stood there shifting his weight from foot to foot unknowingly.

“Yeah, that idea of the firehouse is WAY smart, Fred,” Jim said in disbelief, as he watched a man in flames run smack into a gold Rolls Royce.

“Seems like the kind of thing you’d think of first, not when everything’s burning,” Jen said as she rubbed her sweaty forearm with the back of her hand. “I don’t know,” Jen said, as she stood there wearing just a swimsuit under a purple paisley design bathrobe. She looked like she was modeling it to Jack’s eyes though. Jack had missed the amazing way Jen thought when she was around.

“Jen, you gave me what, but you’re not giving me that,” Fred said sarcastically as he acted like he had a reptilian tongue; he did this by trying to lick a large mosquito flying around Jen’s neck. “Come on now.”

Jen looked at him cross-eyed. This is surely not Fred’s favorite look. “Fred, the that is one the way, and it will be furious so that ya know. And when THAT, is enough, they’ll be more that, and moose that.

Then you’ll get hit in the head with that. And say what was that?” joked Jen as she stepped on Fred’s toe and grabbed the tip of his tongue. “And then some more that’ll come, and you wish for less that. HUH, there’s that,” Jen said sarcastically as she gave Fred a few playful shoves with her shoulder (like a lineman for the Patriots would do if they had a decent contract).

“Great, that’s mo THAT, than I had in mind,” Fred said sarcastically, as he spazzed out and threw his beer can into the chair in front of him.

Fred smirked: grabbed another beer, jumped in the air, and then took a long drink. He tossed-what was left of his beer (almost all) off the roof-and it was kicked by a famous actress running down the street in black workout clothes. Her name was Natasha Gulp: and like all good looking women in Hollywood, all men knew her first for her perfect ass. She stopped and glared up at Fred; knowing she’d get even with him someday that prick.

“Well, let’s go find the right flames to cheer for,” Jim said as he stretched out his middle finger to some tourists below. “See, the flames burning that red house, I’m not cheering for them, I have standards. But oh BUT, the one on that left fellow’s yellow hair. That baby, can burn all night. I hate that prick from the gym,” Jim said sarcastically ignoring the man’s cries. He grinned instead, and watched several swarms of birds flying out of the Malay/Blue-jays/Ravens/Peacocks/and a few Robins.

They looked to be exotic and he knew the elite were free to save them, because he was busy (doing nothing).

“Oh yes, I just realized something,” Jack looking around with the nervous eyes of a criminal.

“What would that be, Jack?” asked Jim as he waved to the dead in the streets.

“The whole thing could burn,” Jack moaned as he was hyperventilating. “The hills, the city, the landmarks, all of it!” said Jack breathlessly as he hit his chest. “Then they’d have to build it all again, but it wouldn’t have the history. I don’t know, maybe some places are just meant to be dead,” Jack said philosophically as he rubbed his chin. “Think about it, all the murders and deceptions that have happened here. Right here, where we’re standing, people have been murdered, raped, and destroyed. You’d have to think there’d be a settling up at some point. Why not here, why not now?” asked Jack as his voice betrayed him and went faint. He watched the flames and continued smoking a cigar with quick bursts of nervousness surging through his smoke.

Jim watched Jack intently as he smoked his cigar. He knew Jack was almost wishing for something like this to happen. Jen was thinking this too, but she didn’t know why he would be so jaded (even though she shared his viewpoint). Jen spun around and saw a litany of ambulances and police cars flooding past their apartment. She followed the cars racing along with her eyes; and their-serious as a heart attack- driving methods; as they ran over cats and nearly people as well.

They were seated there the bulk of the day, their way of self punishing themselves for making light of the situation. When the final hours of the next night found them sleeping on the roof; Jim awoke and

saw a burglar climbing up the side of the building. He stood up and hurried over to the edge of the roof.

He looked into the eyes of the Latino man, and saw his anger. Jim pulled his leg back and kicked him hard in the face. The game winning goal sent him end over end down to the pavement below. His head split open like a Halloween pumpkin as it smashed on the street. Jim looked around and thankfully no one had seen. He snuck back to his chair and pretended to be asleep; as he saw Fred starting to wake up (and he panicked).

Fred looked around and then dosed off again like Thanksgiving turkey, and Jim had gotten away with it.

Chapter 7

Waking Up Alive

Six months shot past them like a hornet passing your ear; and everyone was getting nervous. They all knew the Oscar nominations were tomorrow; and it was all anyone could talk about- or lie about the fact they weren’t talking about it -all day long. Ben and Jim had both won: Golden Globes, Screen Actor’s Guild awards, and every other award there was. Jen had won only the Screen Actor’s Guild award for best actress (she said that was the only real award) and she was happy. The sun was hotter than new tar under your bare toes; and they were all heading to Laron’s for a party.

Ben and Julie had moved in with Laron; Ben’s need to live a certain life often made it hard to live with people; meaning they were eager to move out. Of all the mansions-that aren’t made of plastic and have Barbie living in them-Laron’s was posh and untouched by the flames. Even his front yard was untouched due to the lack of vegetation (and the tall concrete walls surrounding it helped too). It stood there some 8 stories high; jutting out like a fat kid’s head at lunch. The night was beginning to sneak into everyone’s pants, and the house was filled with all sorts of colorful people (not necessarily clean though).

Laron didn’t mind anyone who could gab; regardless of how much money they had in their pockets (he just wanted his hand in those very pockets).

“So…I guess we should accept we’ll never win anything,” Jim used a garrulous tone to see if anyone would buy it. “I mean awards, the ones you win, they’re for other people, not us, Jen,” Jim put on his best sad face, but Jen wasn’t buying it “People like us do our best acting at the bottom end of the porn industry. Hell, that’s where we’re headed, and I don’t like it!” Jim said sarcastically as he strutted around bumping into every chair in the room (even though he was not drunk or high) and then tripped himself on a sock. “What, oh this is funny to you. Great, I’ll be knee deep in knees, Baby, and you’ll be spending my loot. Still laughing huh, well aren’t you a bad friend. Couldn’t you at least consider prostitution?”

Jim went on sarcastically as he sat down in the upstairs den (with one leg draped over the armrest of a 14th

century antique chair). Jen was laughing her head off; and wondering how Jim could be calm and cool as the Marlboro man with the nominations looming.

“Because she’s already won,” Ben said as he rose to his feet and finished his glass of Cognac. “Hey, Jim, how’s the waiting treatin’ ya?” Ben asked as he breezed into the room, and went right for the Cognac.

Jim grinned at this, and got up and walked over to get his own glass of Cognac. Jim didn’t feel so bad about taking a glass since Ben was already drinking it. Jen took note and gave Jim the” Don’t get drunk and arrested look” he knew that one so very well.

“I could be better,” Jim replied, as he grinned like he’d stolen your last piece of cake. “My neck hurts from fidgeting. My mind just wants to joke the whole time, when I know I should be serious. It hurts, it really does,” Jim rubbed his neck and pinned his eyes on the ceiling. “I’ll tell ya though, this has been the tornado of odd days. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I talked to this director named Hemly Askcott.

And Hemly wants me and Jen to be in his new epic. I could pass your name along if you’re available,”

Jim said as he watched Ben pour his a cup of cognac, Jim knowing Ben was dying for a role like that.

Why wouldn’t he, it was the script that would bring home Oscar glory, and everyone knew it.

Ben looked at Jim and saw he was serious about helping him-and it was some kind of role to be offered. Ben handed Jim his green goblet of Cognac and asked,” Really?” Ben decided to be coy and throw a nonchalant look to Jim. “Yeah I guess, I mean I would indeed, and it would be worth your while.

Look what we just did with this last picture together, ya know. We could do it all again, Jim, one more hayride. Yes I say, please tell him I’m interested. If he asks, very interested o.k.? ” Ben asked slightly anxious, using his breathing techniques to stave off the jitters. Jim looked around like he hadn’t heard him, but he just wanted to torture him a bit.

“O.k., I’ll take care of it,” answered Jim with his goblet under his nose. “Jen here didn’t believe me when I offered her the hooker role. But she believes me now, don’t ya?”

“Yes I do, and it’s stellar, Ben, you’ll love this one,” Jen said as she bent over backwards and did a handstand to get out of her chair. She walked over to the Cognac and poured herself a glass (a healthy glass at that).

“Good, very good then we’ll be back in the free macaroni,” Ben said optimistically with his eyes preoccupied with the TV; it was showing the racetrack results from the day before-and he thought he might have won some scratch (but he didn’t know anything about the ponies).

“And chives,” Jim said. “No, if they didn’t pay me for acting, I’d be the richest poor guy ever. I might even collect cans, and STEAL nickels. Hey, I was destined to be rich,” Jim said sarcastically as he sipped his Cognac; and he watched the hallway as people walked past naked as a jail shower. He started to feel the weight of the day (and the debauchery yet to come) with his eyes wide open.

“I mentioned the macaroni, what are you getting real money?” Ben asked sarcastically as he leaned in close to Jim and Jim mouthed the words” hundreds, 2 or 3” “Wow, they’ve been scamming me all this time, how could they?” protested Ben as he loosened up and forgot the nomination for a moment (close to 2).

Jim and Jen laughed like study hall at this; and then they heard the familiar sound of Laron entering the house with his usual flare. ” Who’s fucking on my CARPET?!” yelled Laron as he kicked a nude-red haired on top and black down bottom-women off his couch. “OH, I did invite you didn’t I. Where’s my Cognac?!” growled Laron as he pushed a tan skinned young actor out of the kitchen.

Jim, Jen, and Ben could hear this; and they downed their glasses of Cognac and hurried to the back end of the room. Each picked up a book-from the 5 story Indian village shaped bookcases-and then reclined on the red silk covered couches.

“Isn’t Moby Dick spectacular,” remarked Jen as she counted the droplets of blood on the wallpaper-unaware they were in fact that (and her count was 27). “I could read it all day,” Jen said sarcastically with a Cheshire cat smile; she had the book Pride and Prejudice in her hands unbeknownst to Jim or Ben.

Ben glanced at his book; and he saw it was sex positions involving 10 people at once. He raised his left eyebrow like a suspicious cop, and continued reading. Jim laid back and hid his face under the opened version of Les Miserables. Jim knew he needed to catch some sleep-and a few moments to himself- and drink some Cognac to clear out the history of the moment that he couldn’t escape.

“Oh God, the people I hang out with, ATROCIOUS,” Laron snorted sharply as he entered the room holding a Poodle (colored purple and named Sacky). His eyes darted to where the Cognac was supposed to be; and he felt his collar getting sweaty when he saw it had been moved. “Where’s my COGNAC?!

Oh, there it is, there’s my baby. 500 year old Cognac, the finest,” Laron muttered with his hands caressing the bottle-as he often did in his or anyone else’s home-and then he drank directly from it (another habit formed by sheer laziness). Ben saw this and grimaced-to drink after Laron was to drink from a toilet, but filthier-as he knew Laron wasn’t the safest or cleanest of people.

“Is that you, Laron?” Ben asked coyly with his eyes pretending to be engrossed in the written word.

Laron nearly choked on the Cognac when he heard this; he was like a drunkard eating week old moldy bread and drinking stale milk by accident. Laron set down the bottle of Cognac, and waved to Ben. ” Yes it is, Ben, how’s being the best treating you?”

“Fine question, you are wise,” Ben agreed cheerily. “Well, better than humping brick and sailing a canoe. So, the usual, oh is that Cognac?”

“Yes, but I can’t spare a spec,” Laron said hollowly as he had 3 more bottles downstairs (he was just too lazy to go get them). “If anyone had DRANK any of this, I would have been RAGING Laron. We both know raging Laron, and we don’t care to see him again. God, delicious Cognac, and may there

always be some,” said Laron then he took another drink (from the bottle again). “And, may I always own it. Where’s everyone else?” Laron asked as he took several pulls from the bottle of Cognac-with burps suitable for anywhere people aren’t. Laron could feel his party buzz coming on, and that meant horny.

“Aahh Jim and Jen are sampling your book collection,” Ben barely looked over as he sold the scene from all angles. “See, Jim liked that book so much, he fell asleep inside it. And Jen looks to be engrossed in some fine fiction,” Ben said as a murderous black bear smirk crept across his face. He spun his finger in a circle-seeing as Laron would think it meant something and try to solve it, but it really didn’t mean anything-giving Jim and Jen some precious time to get ready.

Laron walked over and spied Jim sleeping; and it made him feel a whole lot better. He had a thing for award winners at his parties; he knew he’d be laughed out of town if they didn’t show up.

“Good, good then, are they staying?” Laron asked.

“Yes, Laron, I’ll be here all night,” Jen answered as she sat forward and pretended to hold a sneeze in. “Jim here will be eating your tofu as well. Great seeing you again,” said Jen, and she stood up and discretely pushed her Cognac glass under the couch, with her foot. Then she walked-smiling brightly and showing no fear-over to Laron.

“Thank you, Jen. Is Jim asleep?”

“Yeah, he’s been going right out since yesterday,” Jen confessed, as she stood there with her arms behind her back; and her neck was cocked like a chicken. “So he has to be pretty tired by now, thus slumbers. Hey, I heard there’s supposed to be a band here tonight. Hmm, did I hear right?” asked Jen as she hugged Laron with her right arm. Jen was hoping to see this hip new band called Hey Pop, because she loved their hit single, Glue is love.

“Well, I shouldn’t say, but you are an award winning actress,” Laron beguiled her with a childlike giggle. “I’ve got the band Hey Pop coming at one. Don’t tell anyone, I don’t want the bad party people

in here to ruin our time. Now, about Jim there, is he up for some drinks? Maybe a movie or something else?” asked Laron coyly as his eyes undressed Jim’s crotch; and hoped for a night alone with Jim.

“I really don’t know, he said he’s been changing his views on the world,” Jen said hollowly as she felt her own left hip; but she looked for a place to go and laugh after she was done talking. “You might have a chance, Laron, but I’m not sure. I’ll ask him when he wakes up. Which, should be, right about, now,” said Jen as she started swinging her fist back and forth at Jim’s crotch. “HEY, JIM NUTS, ARE

YOU HORNY?!” yelled Jen as she slid on top of Jim and kissed his forehead like a squirrel kissing a sunflower seed (as they often do before they eat them).

He was annoyed by this and let his angry eyes do the talking-they told Laron he was a rough ride and he liked that-and Jim nodded once.

“Not at the moment, but maybe later,” Jim considered. “I need to lay here for awhile, my head is spinning like junior high prom,” said Jim as he yawned. “Oh, where are Jack and Scott? They said find them at eleven, and its 11:10 now,” Jim spoke as if he had found a new reason to breathe. He slid back onto the bed like a tired woodchuck on his dam; and hoped Jen would go look for Jack and Scott for him-even though he didn’t want to be left alone with Laron.

Jen straightened up on the edge of the couch. She rolled her eyes at Jim and asked,” Really? You want me to go looking for them?”

“You’re right, I brought it up,” Jim said. “Alright fine, I’m up and I’m ready to go in search of Jack and Scott. Oh hey, Laron, how’s it going?”

“Great, Jim, you look amazing!” Laron replied quickly, his smile looked like he’d just had some chocolate cake-with cake all through his teeth and some frosting on his lower lip like a middle school tyke- and he had pink ribbons in his hair (that made Jim nervous and think about all the sexual acts Laron had done routinely, that would make Jim hurl to do or see).

“Thanks, it’s nice of you to say,” Jim agreed as he forced a smile. “Well, I sure could go for a nice glass of wine, Laron, and more than a whole whale to eat. Is there some booze anywhere close?” Jim asked coyly as he set his book on the table and lifted himself up like a champion powerlifter (from the hips first).

“Yes, just a second.” Laron blushed as he hurried over and poured a glass of Cognac. He checked his pocket for a good knockout drug, but there were none-this infuriated him beyond belief-and he walked over to Jim and sat down beside him. Laron handed him the glass. Laron smiled,” There you go, Talent.”

“Thank you, now to go find the knuckleheads,” Jim answered as he took a small sip-knowing there were floaters in the Cognac he didn’t want to drink-and he looked around like a bored bounty hunter in the cold. “And I bet they’re in some remote corner of the house. Which means a good long hike,” Jim said sadly. “Laron, this is great Cognac by the way. Great girth and meaty quality to it; tastes perfect for me right now,” said Jim hollowly as he drank the Cognac carefully. He had his suspicions Laron was thinking about some sort of tryst; and Jim REALLY wanted no part of that. He stood there looking at Ben, as Ben leaved through a book near the doorway (How to keep a lover without CHAINS, was the title).

“My, the worm is fat and squiggly wiggly now,” Jen said slyly as she stared at Jim’s crotch. “I think that means something, I don’t know,” Jen got up and waltzed through the room like a ballerina of a bygone era.

Jim smirked, and as he did Laron quickly stood up like a firework into a Fourth of July sky.

“Going somewhere, Jim?” Laron inquired coyly-knowing he needed to bed Jim down before he was whoring himself all over town; and he lifted his hair into Jim’s peripheral vision.

“Yeah I gotta take a shit,” Jim declared flatly. “And then I’m going to find some friends. Thanks for the Cognac, I’ll see you a bit later,” Jim said with his legs walking casually over to Ben and Jen.

Ben chuckled into his book; and he made sure Laron couldn’t see him. Ben knew this story all too well-everyday in Hollywood it happened hundreds of times-and he wasn’t going to be surprised when something happened between them.

“YES!” Laron said enthusiastically as he clapped his hands together 5 times. “Later, I’ll be waiting,”

Laron said and he waved with just the fingers on his right hand (and smiled like Hell’s last doorman).

Jim looked at him perplexed; and then waved once with his left hand.

“Jim, don’t drink anymore of Laron’s wine,” insisted Ben as they walked down the hallway. They saw a pair of naked men run past covered in glitter (Jim knew he could have missed that memory and been happy with his life) then a 500 pound white woman wearing only heels and nothing else, came meandering out of one of the rooms like a dying elephant and she made a “Can I bum a smoke” gesture and Jim shook his head no.

“That was odd, why shouldn’t I drink his liquor?”

“You’ll wake up a changed man, that’s all I can say,” Ben said. But he wondered. Was this the beginning of Jim’s downward spiral (as naiveté was seen as weakness and soon corrupted in L.A)? “Just stick to beer, but not his. Oh, the press found their way in, here we go, Jim. You either win it or lose it right now. Hello, Heath, Mitchell party, how are you?” asked Ben smoothly as he walked up to a pair of reporters-sharing a smile he saved for real life-who were from the Hollywood Insider and the L.A. Times entertainment division.

Jim saw this and made sure his chest was flexed-to show strength and fine breeding-and his jaw line at an angle for pictures (and he wanted many of those taken or what’s the point). Jim walked casually over to them. He said coyly,” Oh hey, great seeing you guys. What sort of mischief are you into now, Heath?” Jim went on. “Come on, there’s always something.”

“Ben, and lovely, Jim, great seeing you both,” Heath said as he grabbed both of Ben’s wrists and caressed them. “So, Ben, what would it mean for you to win the Oscar? Taking into careful consideration it’s the last mountain that needs climbing,” Heath said coyly-knowing he could ruin Ben if he said the wrong thing during the interview, and half hoping for just that-as he held his wrist implant recorder to Ben’s mouth.

“You don’t win something like that, it becomes you,” Ben fired back effortlessly with a debonair smile. “It’s not an award anymore, it’s the only award. I’ll tell ya what though,” Ben leaned in close,” as long as the extras are talking me up, o.k. I must be doing something right. Hey, don’t forget to ask Jim here the same question,” Ben said as he watched Jim refuse to squirm-showing he had a superior talent-and tapped Jim hard on the shoulder.

“Jim, ah…same question.”

“Heath, if it were all bad, your whole life,” Jim said with his hands accentuating every word and move of his head. “Ya know, nothing but wrong turns, bad breaks, and endless depression,” Jim continued, “One night, one certain night, would make up for all of that and then some,” Jim paused only briefly and said, “Seeing as this is my first movie; that people responded to it in an enormous way. My feeling is, and has been, I can’t be mad at losing, or coming close regardless,” Jim said as he pulled out his wallet and his old driver’s license (it showed him with a full head of long curly blonde hair and a red goatee, smiling like an extra) and Heath inspected it. “See, that guy is the reason I can’t ask for anything; because no one deserves to ever feel that they’ve deserved their good fortune in this town. Still though, I think Ben here is gonna win it, WOO! Go Ben!” Jim said coyly as he pumped his fists and put his arm around Ben, and gave him a good hard shake. Jim knew the play Ben was trying; and he also knew turnabout was fair play- or he could forget about the Oscar.

“Well we can only hope,” Mitchell shot back as he fussed with his red frame Armani sunglasses with blood red tint. “Ben, what are you wearing?” Mitchell wondered, as his long pointy nose got as close to Ben as you could (without poking his eye out).

Jim stood there grinning mischievously-sometimes you just don’t care and you fly by the seat of someone ELSE’S PANTS-and he was acting like he was really eager to hear Ben’s reply. He knew it’s not what you think that matters; it’s what they think you’re thinking that matters.

Ben nodded. Then said hollowly,” Twenty years of good times, and many more I hope. When luck finds you as a friend, all’s you’ll ever wear from then on in, is memories,” said Ben as he shook his head and looked down. “I’ve had my share of silken cloth, enough to know it suits a man like me. Jim, is that cotton or polyester? It looks outstanding!” said Ben coyly with his right hand feeling his forehead; and he laughed with Heath and Mitchell.

Jim acted oblivious to what he had been asked; like a polar bear to the snow. ” It’s called ALL

MAN, and it’s all I ever wear all the time,” Jim explained. “And when that dirty, less man, and more still come my way. Hey, we all know the struggle, of the polyester sect. They smell funny, like cheap cologne at the rice and filthy beggar market. So for them, I’m going to the Oscars-if nominated-in nothing but hope and dreams,” Jim said jokingly, and he tried not to laugh, but with Mitchell and Heath laughing as hard as they did, it made it very difficult.

Jen watched all this going down, and she sidestepped them using a secret staircase in a black painted closet reading DON’T TOUCH MY AIR BITCH. She walked down a poorly lit deep molasses colored staircase; and past several cases filled with young men’s clothing. She found another closet behind a spinning wooden door; and it appeared to be concealed with old brooms and women’s clothing. She opened the door-not sure if she should in the first place-and saw Scott and Jack standing there drinking champagne (out of Laron’s private stock).

“Oh hey, Jen, there’s bubbles in my beer,” Scott said as he did a quick slumping over motion onto one leg-he was wearing Laron’s silk red robe and duck slippers-and somehow found his balance enough to keep from falling.

“Scott, if he catches you, he will have you buried in pig shit,” Jen said in disbelief, as she bolted past Fred and Scott to make sure they were safe. “Not air, but the actual shit you can bath in, that shit. And that tends to hurt the neck, like bad, bad neck. I’m trying to warn you, Scott, don’t get caught,” Jen said sarcastically as she poured her own glass; and then she draped her arms around the necks of Scott and Jack; like a brown bear would its crying cub.

Scott said sarcastically: “I told you, Jack.” And he threw the last sip of his drink in the trash.

Jack chuckled at this and tossed back-as if he had been drinking apple juice-another glass of champagne. Jack had a feeling if he got drunk enough-like first year at the frat house drunk (pledging and all)-he could dazzle someone famous.

“This is a weird room, why are there boxes of champagne and wine everywhere?” Jen wondered aloud as she led them through the small storeroom filled with: pies, cakes, and giant bottles of Dom Perignon. There were posters of all of Laron’s hit movies; and they were making love to each other all over the walls and doors leading in.

“His decorator is half bear cub, and all skunk,” Jack said as he pushed a red hat off a hat rack; causing the whole pile of hats to fall to the floor. “You can’t decorate if you’re a skunk, there are rules about that,” Jack said sarcastically. He watched Jen peeking out the main doorway in-leading him to believe they were all too drunk not to get caught. She saw there was a grand dining hall with a hundred foot dark red maple table. It had inscriptions all over it like” Monroe was a choirgirl compared to me”

and another reading” I only know how to blow it if I get bored kicking ass.” Laron’s houseguests brought a certain flare to everything they did. The table smelled of sex and pot; and was covered in place settings-

most in the higher tax bracket-that had silver dishes at each. And there were seven cabinets around the length of the table shaped like asses.

“Yes, and those rules I break daily,” Scott responded with a coughing made up sea captain voice.

“Liar, you do not, Scott,” snapped Jen sarcastically as she bumped her head into Scott’s back. “No one dares break those rules. Hmm, let’s have a seat,” Jen offered simply, as she drank her champagne and eyed a TV on the wall. She wondered if they could watch the Oscar nominations from that room.

She felt her heart beginning to race-she wanted to win the Oscar worst than anything-and her head was spinning.

“Nope, I refuse to sit unless you can smell my finger,” Scott demanded drunkenly as he fell hard into a chair face first. “I was hoping Jack would if you’d ask him, Jen.”

“The answer is no,” Jack grunted.

“Jack, come on I’d do it for you,” Scott said as his eyes looked around the ceiling-not sure what he was looking at, but curious-and saw odd bits of wood poking out due to dead bodies Laron had hidden there over the years. “Man, the hypocrisy in this world. It’s like people do the opposite of what they say or something,” Scott said as he used his feet to balance his chair on one leg.

Jen looked around in the cabinets for a TV remote control-half hoping to find some chocolate bars.

She saw a small drawer on the side of a brown cabinet, and it was partially open. She reached down and opened it-not sure if it was filled with drugs or worse, loose underwear-and she found a pink remote control with Laron’s face emblazoned on the side of it.

“Find something?” Jack asked.

“I found something, and I think it will work as well,” Jen said happily as she inspected the remote; and she found it had several buttons she had never heard of like” Window of love” and “Passageway to

heaven” “Let’s see,” Jen said as she aimed the remote at the TV and hit the power button. The TV turned on, and they could see a no holds barred orgy in the upstairs living room. It looked as if Hugh Hefner had sent over each month’s playmate and playpal.

“No, it found you,” Jack said brightly as he moved closer to the TV. He thought they were seeing the deceitful side of L.A. He knew they could get into trouble for even that small offense. “Jen, maybe we shouldn’t be watching this?” Jack cautioned.

Jen looked at the remote-she was bargaining out a way to just look and get away with it; however, she couldn’t resist trying another channel so she hit the Passageway to Heaven button.

“Seriously, Jen, turn it off and put it away,” Scott demanded sharply. “We don’t need the hassle of getting caught,” Scott said nervously, and he got up quickly and checked the right door to see if anyone was coming. He saw a woman passed out-like Prom night-on the couch in the downstairs living room.

He looked back at Jen; and she smiled mischievously at him.

“Maybe we should just see what Jim’s up to?” Jen asked as she smiled (not the smile everyone knew her for, more nervous and small). “I’m sure he’s not being a jerk to anyone right now,” Jen hoped her lack of confidence in that moment would guide her to safety-like it invariably always did-and she started changing the channels like lottery balls. She saw Laron trying on dresses and punching a little person in the head repeatedly-with that little person’s head locked in a metal brace (unable to move even slightly, and in one of the upstairs bedrooms; with what looked like blood around Laron’s mouth).

She knew then if someone were to walk in on them they’d be beaten up or killed (as sure as a rich man’s got gold on his wrist). She hurriedly changed the channel; and when she did she saw several servants preparing a feast in a round purple room; and the room had a black and gold trimmed coffin shaped table in the center with the words “Nice take, I believed you were actually blowing it in that one”

carved into the wood. There were 5 dead bodies lying on it that were being carved up by the guests. She had never seen that level of evil before-few had and lived to talk about it-and it struck her that they would

do the same to her if they caught them. She looked at Scott and knew this could happen to someone like them.

“Man, what’s he got planned for tonight?” Scott smiled glassily and cleared his throat twice fast.

“Who, Scott?” asked Jen, her now happy smile was fettered by fear and impossible anguish.

“Laron, he must be having a separate party for his closest friends,” answered Scott with a frog in his throat that threatened his upper intestine, pause. “I mean, we were told there would just be snacks-snacks means it’s not a crazy party. And not to use the left part of the house,” said Scott as he looked around the room. “That looks like the left part, because the lights from the driveway are shining in through the window. Huh, try another channel, Jen?” Scott asked with his eyes up and on the TV-with his fear of death not impeding his desire to see someone else’s naked life-and he waited patiently and set down his drink; and then he moved closer to the TV.

“I don’t know, this could be real bad,” Jen said calm, cool, and nearly collected, but her sweaty hands told a different story; feeling like summer water sprinklers had exploded in the palms of them.

“What if we just leave this room, and really head back home? We don’t have to stay here. No one would know if we left, right?”

“You’re right, Jen, but how do we get out without being seen?” Scott asked nervously his mind starting his hands to twitching; this before he even realized they were all in over their heads (and the agony of fucking up bad filled his mind)

“Walk,” said Jen flatly as she looked at the TV and saw flesh being thrown around the room.

“Walk where?” Jack asked bluntly.

“Walk right out the front door,” Jen explained. “Look, if everyone’s partying, then no one’s lingering near the front doors. Could you check to see if there’s anyone hanging out down there?” Jen

asked as he perked up; now that her big time plan would keep them alive, things were good she thought.

Jack jogged over to see if anyone was coming. It made him think of a Van Halen cover band concert he went to when he was 18; where he had to run for the front of the stage (and not get trampled in the process). His heart was sprinting downhill, and he felt a nervousness he hadn’t experienced since 3rd grade.

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” Scott agreed.

Jen hit the button again by accident; and she saw 3 men beating a black man-who was chained to a rusty cage-in a torch lit room filled with blood covered people (including Laron). All three of them looked at this-much like you’d look at an accident on the highway-and their bodies froze. Then they heard someone coming from the kitchen; and it felt like the Earth had reversed its orbit.

“SHUT IT OFF!!” Jack barked sharply, as he looked around for a place to escape. He looked in the adjacent living room-praying for a redo of this night-and saw no one.

Jen slapped the power button; and they ran-like the running of the bulls-into the living room. There they saw only a coat closet and some 13th century antique furniture; and they quickly went inside and closed the door behind them (with a surgeon’s careful hands). Just as they did, a security guard for Laron named Roland Notch entered the dining room. Roland was 6 foot 6 inches of mountain tall; and weighed all of-too many snacks-400 pounds. He had on a black leather jacket with the face of Michael Jackson on the front (during the Thriller years) and a Berretta on his hip. Roland instantly noticed the half full glasses, and he knew there were wolves in the henhouse. He felt one of them for warmth; and he could tell someone had just been in there.

“Where ya hidin’?” asked Roland loudly as he picked up the table-like it was your gym bag-and looked under it “Where you be?!” yelled Roland angrily as Jen, Jack, and Scott started to feel the moment-and their hands shook and they sweated through their clothes-while they hid in a closet.

“I saw we run for it,” Scott whispered, as he looked through a crack in the door and couldn’t see Roland yet (thankfully he thought, or he’d piss himself).

Jen looked around the closet-hoping for a gun or knife to use-and slowly ran her fingers through her hair; and then she pulled the skin on her face back. She felt for the back of the closet; and she saw it was deeper than she had originally had guessed (maybe there’s a way out, she thought).

“Hey, hey follow me,” Jen whispered as she pulled on Jack and Scott’s shirts. Scott was about to turn around when he saw Roland; and when he saw him he froze like summer lemonade. Scott knew then this-not unlike his great grandfather going to Vietnam-was fight or die time. He turned slowly to say something to Jen; when he saw Jack and Jen had disappeared into the back of the closet. He felt a loneliness that only people marooned on islands could comprehend. Where were they?

“Where you be?!” yelled Roland as he kicked a large leather chair out of his way. “Don’t you hide on me!” Roland yelled as he kicked the couch. “Where you be?!” asked Roland angrily as he checked behind the couch-one that had been soiled so many times even Laron wouldn’t sit on it-and got ever closer to the solitary closet.

Scott moved quickly through the rows of fur coats and paisley design jackets. He couldn’t see anything but blackness in front of him-leading to his heart speedometer burying the needle-and he started to panic. He walked forward as fast as he could-feeling as though he was about to fall off a mountain cliff with every blind step-tripping on a fur coats and then making a loud thud when his knee hit the floor (so loud it was heard by all of Hollywood).

“Damn it!” Scott growled-like he’d punch anyone and everyone just then-and he felt his now hurt and bleeding knee (and made a face only caveman know for real). Scott crawled forward under another row of fur coats.

Roland heard that thud, but it took him a minute to figure out where it had come from. His eyes focused in on the coat closet now (a closet he had been banished to by Laron one night, for eating too many pieces of cake).

“I finds me you,” his commodious pants slipping down to the bottom of his butt; and then they are quickly pulled up. “I finds you, come out,” said Roland happily as his eyes grew wide. “Come on out now!” Roland yelled as he walked in an uncoordinated way over to the closet.

“OH shit, he had to hear me!” Scott said frantically using a voice he learned to avoid getting punched by strangers he’d insulted. “Come on, Jen, Jack, where are you?” Scott asked as he rose up-like a 12th round boxer having survived a knockout blow-and he ran through the seemingly endless closet (and coats that were worth more than his car). He knocked coats-any and every coat in sight not caring what they worth in Vegas-out of his way; and then he heard Roland open the closet door behind him (that creaking sound he would dread for the rest of his life). Scott lurked forward at this and tried to run, but the coats were tripping him up with every step.

“I hears that, I hears it,” Roland said greedily with a creepy smile. “Come on now, don’t make me run ya down,” Roland said coyly as he knew if he caught them down here-like many before-he was going to kill them (just as Laron had laid out in the house rules every Friday). He grabbed rack after rack of the fur coats; and he tossed them out of his way. Roland had 2 inches of headroom in the closet, but he felt cumbersome nonetheless.

Scott panicked, with his legs slipping endlessly; as he tried to move as fast as he could. He got to a point where he just started punching the coats out of his way. He flailed his arms like a junior high fistfight; and then felt no coats and saw nothing but blackness in front of him.

“Oh god, what now?” asked Scott nervously as he felt in the darkness-so black he couldn’t see anything, even himself-and tried to find a way to safety. “Where are you?” Scott asked frantically as he tried not to cough, but there was a pain in his throat from a small pizza he’d eaten earlier (it was repeating

on him). He couldn’t take it and he loudly cleared his throat. Roland heard this CLEAR AS DAY; and Scott could hear him coming up from behind faster now, fast enough to catch him, Scott thought. He lurked forward and punched the wall; opening a secret doorway that led outside. Jen and Jack were standing there waiting for him at the bottom of some brass and white marble stairs (imported from France so Laron would have a story to tell). Scott said happily,” Oh thank god it’s you.

“Where were you, Bonerhead?” Jen asked jokingly as she curtsied and smiled.

“Bonerhead” Scott didn’t like his new nickname one bit-seeing as he knew those things can stick more often than snow in winter-and he smirked at Jen. “Doesn’t matter, we gotta get going. That guy is in the closet!” Scott added quickly as he raced down the stairs and grabbed Jen and Jack by the forearms-Jen noticing the firmness of the grip and nearly taking offense-and he led them around some luxury cars.

They all out sprinted for Jen’s car out front-which was through a series of large flower filled gardens.

And each of the garden’s coy ponds sat in the middle under the moonlight. And all three of them started to really run fast.

Jen ran along beside Jack; and she kept looking back for Roland. She felt her breasts bouncing in an odd way; and she was about to say something funny about it when she heard the secret door to the closet thrown open, and she started running like an old west horse thief ( for her life). She thanked god she had gotten her body into such great shape over the summer.

“I heard him,” Jen said her voice stronger now and biting Jack and Scott’s ears.

“I did too!” Jack said as he tried to keep his legs moving, but years of cigarette smoking were wearing him down fast.

“Keep moving, at least we’re closer to the front now,” Scott said mildly as he ran; but he really didn’t know if they were closer to the front seeing as it was as dark as tar out.

“I comin’ for ya!” Roland said as he giggled like a young kid. “I comin’ now! Are you out here, are’s ya?!” Roland asked loudly as he ran through the gardens as fast as he could, but he was not so surefooted. He kept stepping in the coy ponds-partly due to the wine he’d been drinking-and losing his balance momentarily.

“I just heard him, now what?” Scott asked as he worried they were running the wrong way.

“Hey, this isn’t Laron’s house,” Jen declared in disbelief as she eyed the large mansion shaped like a Lord of the Rings Hobbit (Frodo Baggins in fact). “Look, we’re heading towards his neighbor’s driveway. They must share a secret tunnel between the two. Oh man, we are so screwed,” Jen said sadly as she took a long-you’re getting shot today-breath.

“No we aren’t,” Jack insisted with his hair blowing around in the warm canyon breezes. “We’ll just ask his neighbor to hide us for a minute. Appeal to his tender sensibilities,” Jack replied-hoping he wasn’t talking completely out of his ass just then-and he ran around the front of a new lemon colored Lamborghini. He looked up and saw Nathan Link-a big name even among big names because of his vast wealth-standing there with a shotgun in his hands aimed directly at Jack.

“Nice plan, Jack, do we kill ourselves now?” Scott asked sarcastically as he put up his hands and stood there eyeing Nathan. Nathan looked at Scott-having never heard real small town humor up close-and he had a perplexed look on his face, but he thought they looked familiar for some reason.

“Scott, from the burger stand?” asked Nathan in disbelief as he moved closer to Scott. “What are you doing here?” Nathan asked as he lowered the shotgun and walked over to Scott.

“We were at the party at Laron’s, and got lost,” Scott said hollowly-as he tried to remember how he acted at work towards the customers, to grease the wheels better-and he stepped forward. “Wow, this is a nice place you’ve got here,” Scott remarked-still aware a large man was chasing them and probably going to kill him, but he didn’t want to be rude-and he stood there summing up Nathan’s mansion.

“Thank you, why are you all winded?”

“This security guard is after us and…he’s coming this way,” Jen replied as she heard Roland tearing through the trees. “Can we go inside please?” Jen asked nervously as she watched the trees in the garden sway with every big step Roland-who wore a size 23 shitkicker boot-took.

“Yes, this way please,” Nathan said, but he wasn’t surprised. He motioned-with his white gloved right hand-for them to walk right into a concrete wall. Jen spied this and thought him mad as Crazy glue breakfast. When Nathan got close; he pressed in a certain spot with his knee, and a secret door opened.

They hurried inside and the door closed behind them with a soft whisper. This just as Roland stumbled out into the courtyard; falling face first onto Nathan’s Lamborghini (denting the hood).

“Damn runnin’ bunnies,” Roland blamed all life’s problems on those crazy fucking rabbits. He knew they were ruining his life every chance they got. “Man, I can’t play dumb, when Laron asks. Got to finds them or…,” Roland trailed off as he put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. He looked around and saw no trace of them anywhere (he knew those damn rah-bots were after him this night).

Meanwhile Jim was hanging out with some indie actors, in a late seventies style lounge. Ben was intrigued by Jim; and he was watching him from a good high vantage point-on a walkway above him.

Ben had an inkling something was off about Jim; what was his character, he wondered to himself.

The room itself was shaped like a banana in length and height (Laron had learned discretion but no shame in any form; he knew the whole house was filled with phallic symbols and shapes). The room even had the words HE CAME TO CUM, WHAT ELSE dangling from the ceiling.

“So yeah, I grip this black bear by the nuts, and squeeze ‘em,” Jim said hollowly as he used his hands like a vice grip. “Then he tries to bat my head off, but I’m too quick for him. And I cold-cock him in the jaw,” said Jim hollowly as he smiled. “Then the full weight of his enormous body falls down on

my head. I mean, if it weren’t for my lucky pocket knife, who knows what would have happened,” Jim lied like this more than he walked, and he walked a lot. He wanted them to think he was some sort of hillbilly mountain man; sprung fully formed from the Canadian wilderness.

“Then what?” asked Shade Giving intently, sitting across from Jim on a purple pillow and sweating from fear.

“What do you mean?”

“How did you find a way out?” Shade asked as he felt the sting of nervousness Jim wanted him too.

“I mean, you’re here right?”

“Yes, I am here, I’m sure of it,” Jim responded as he started to pull up his sleeves and stretch out his arms (he knew that would scare them even more, and for that reason alone Jim proceeded with the charade). “I fuckin’ rammed my pocket knife UP into his sternum. Then I made a carved a hole in his gut; and quickly slid my whole body in,” Jim said hollowly as he acted like he was tearing bear flesh back and poking his head in. “Then I was sifting through the possum, and rat carcasses, trying to find the back of the bear, ya know. I had more gizzards and guts on me, than in a Mexican whorehouse. Then I started getting turned on by the situation, and I felt like I needed a woman. But there were none, none to speak of. So I started screaming, HEY I’M IN THIS BEAR’S GUT, HELP! Help, I’m in this stomach!” Jim shouted as he threw random punches nearly missing Shade’s head. “Then I heard a man yelling, I can get you out just duck. So duck I did and he unloaded a thirty OT six round, into the head of the bear, decapitating him. Then luckily, I was able to climb up through the neck and escape. Sure got lucky that day though,” Jim said as he refused to laugh or let on for any reason (he had a feeling they were going to bleed him dry if he talked to them in any other way. And he was right; sycophants are in every apartment building in L.A.).

Ben was listening to this-unsure who the hell Jim was when he spoke to him, as he had never seen this side-and laughing to himself at how funny he could be. Jim looked down-like a homeless man spying a quarter and knowing they were freaked out-and he dove on a morsel of bread under Shade’s chair.

“Let em have it, Jim,” Ben said under his breath as he sipped his large goblet of champagne.

“Wow Man, you’ve really lived a life,” Shade said in awe as he sat his hips forward. “I wanna make your life easier, how ‘bout I move in with ya and pay your rent in 4 months?” Shade asked coyly, as he knew he’d never pay one stolen nickel of rent; he simply saw Jim as a meal ticket.

Jim grimaced, and started moving his head around like a hungry horse. Jim stood up and then sat back down fast letting out a yell. ” No, I don’t live with humankind,” Jim replied with eyes you saw in statues. “Pigs, and sheepeds, piglets mostly, and o-ccassionally serpentine,” Jim said as he hit the armrest of his chair with his fist. “I would help ya, but gee, Mister, then we’d both be dead,” Jim said as his eyes were looking forward at Shade; however he had a crazed look and his fists were ready to strike.

Shade sat there squirming like he’d had sex with a dead body-feeling like a complete scumbag for asking anything of this lunatic hillbilly-and got up quick and ran full speed out the room first: then hauled ass out of the house, lastly off the property and down the street.. The other actors started to look for a good exit too; as Jim breathed heavily and stared them down. And when they were all gone-as much as scum is ever really gone-Jim laughed his ass off. Ben saw this-now wondering where was this Jim all along? He was now intrigued at how effortless Jim did everything.

“Interesting,” Ben said unsure what he had really just seen; this as his old friend Roger Corjack slid in beside him.

Roger was slight of build and height like a pee-wee soccer player in an area where no one played.

He had grey hair and a thick white goatee that stunk of cinnamon and cheese (he had a nasty habit of dining on cinnamon pretzels dipped in nacho cheese only every day he was still breathing). He had on

Green Horny pajamas-they showed the super hero doing some of his other superpowers, like 4 women at once and farm animals-and he had on white slippers. He was high society to Laron-that simply meant he didn’t have to pay anyone rent for anything anymore-so he was always there.

“What’s interesting?” Roger asked as he peeked over at Ben through the spaces between his own fingers on his right hand.

“Nothing, just a thing I thought I saw,” Ben seeing his expression knew he didn’t have to answer the question. “It was just a dream. Roger, you old hound sniffer, what’s got you here on this occasion? Is it love, or love for one night?”

“Love for a month really,” he shrugged. “Laron gets me, simply put, and I get him. I hear the nominations are only an hour away, nervous?” Roger asked as he looked down briefly, and then pinned his eyes on Ben.

Ben searched the floor for invisible diamonds for a few seconds. He leaned in and said,” Only when I think about it.”

Roger acknowledged this and put his hand in his pocket. A moment later he produced a mini Oscar.

”Here, if it helps, take it.”

“No, no I couldn’t, I made that mistake once before,” refused Ben as he looked at the mini Oscar; then he looked up at Roger’s smiling face. “No, tonight I’m just going to accept it one way or the other,”

Ben admitted like a true politician. He leaned forward, eyes widening, and pressing the railing with his hands-half hoping to change the subject and half looking for Jim-but he saw no sign of him now.

“Well, Ben, I think you might catch a break tonight,” Roger spoke in a warm inviting tone (the kind you use when you know the next card about to be dealt). “We’ll see, but I heard some things,” Roger admitted as he started stroking his goatee; with bits of cheese and cinnamon falling out while Ben acted oblivious to this (he knew that courtesy was as much a part of wining, as the script).

“What?” Ben asked timidly. “What did you hear?” his voice now firmer and inviting.

“OH, just Syndey Penstein telling Carl that you had ah, what’s the word?” Roger asked coyly as he reached around above his head; like he’d snatch the word out of the air. “Oh god, I can’t quite think of it, oh…yes,” Roger said jokingly, as he tried submerging his laughter for the moment; and he rocked back and forth like a zombie.

“Yes what, Roger?”

“Been nominated,” Roger said. “No joke, they cut you a break. Most of the people you angered are dead by now. Can’t screw you over like they once did,” said Roger. “Maybe…maybe this time you’ll write a speech?” Roger inferred as he put his left hand on Ben’s shoulder; and he looked him in the eye for a few seconds.

“I can’t look that far ahead,” Ben answered shell shocked and hearing bombs. “Holy cow, they cut me a break uh. I needed to hear that, well Julie will be ecstatic. She loves going to awards shows, the people and the food ya know. If I get the chance to give her something one day, it will be everything I have.”

“Been hard hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, yes it has, Roger, harder than I’ll admit,” Ben admitted sadly, as he tried to look Roger in the eyes, but he couldn’t for the fear of crying. “And everyone’s waiting to see if I’ll blow it, before the show. I don’t know if I care about that, maybe I’ve seen too many falls to care. But, if they let me, I’ll give ‘em a show,” Ben said as he spoke into Roger’s ear. Roger looked at him and said nothing, nodded.

They both knew it was still a slippery slope to win the Oscar. A slope they both looked forward to climbing.

Meanwhile Jen, Scott, Jack, and Nathan were watching Roland like an eagle watches a wounded moose; as he looked around outside-not exactly the most nimble of security guards-and walked through trees and hit wooden overhangs (they were laughing at this).

“That jackass is boring me now he’s so stupid,” Nathan said. “Can’t he give up already? Just turn back, Chubs, the trash cans are the other way,” Nathan said jokingly as he watched Roland looking beneath the cars like a thief would for the car keys. Nathan wanted desperately to scream at Roland, but he knew that would light a fire under Laron’s ass (he didn’t want Laron pissy that next time he saw him).

“He might be beyond idiot,” Jen said. “Ya know, an idiot savant,” wisecracked Jen as she winked at Nathan. “Those guys are smart, and they can lift stuff,” Jen said looking back into Nathan’s lavish mansion-more gold than most banks on everything in the room-and she stood straighter up to watch Roland trip on a large rock, and stumble into a bush below her.

They chuckled at this and Nathan felt his implant buzz. He pressed the implant in like a button on a keyboard. ” Laron, your idiot security guard is ruining my garden.”

“I can’t tell you I had anything to do with it, Nathan,” Laron said in kindly tone. “Do you know why he’s over there?”

“No idea, maybe he thinks I’ll pay better,” Nathan answered sarcastically, as he waved his hand so no one would laugh out loud.

“Oh you bitch, not nice,” shot back Laron as he tossed his glass of Cognac into the fireplace. “Tell him he’s wanted back here, and tell him to hurry. There’s some drunk guy, eating all my steaks, steaks, Nathan, pieces of cow. And tell him I need a back rub, bye, Bitch,” Laron said as he stood there peeling the curtain back; and looking down at Nathan’s large purple marble back porch. He really needed Roland for the drunk taming-knowing all drunks end up punching people before long-as there was a homeless man who had snuck in named Roscoe that needed punching.

“Ah, give me a second,” Nathan said as he breezed past Scott, Jack, and Jen. He went down the stairs and opened a small slot in his wooden door. He poked his lips out and spoke in an accusatory tone,”

Hey, you in my flowers. Laron wants you back at the house. Hurry he said, he needs a back rub.”

“He said it, he did?” questioned Roland as he pulled a small branch out of his pants. “Well I was doin’ somethin’, but if he needs me. I’ll be on my way, bye, Sir,” Roland said as he made a dour determination and climbed out of the bushes. He headed back through the gardens destroying more landscaping (Laron would pay for it Nathan knew this already).

“Thanks for not ratting us out, Nathan,” Scott said as he offered Nathan a handshake. Nathan examined his hand cautiously: and he gave it a single weak shake. Nathan smiled, and pressed the button for a secret entrance hidden behind a statue to open (it led into Laron’s front courtyard beside the well).

“Thank you, Nathan, we’ll be sure to remember this favor,” Jen said brightly as she put her arm around Nathan-his body shuttering at the thought of a woman touching him-and she smiled. Nathan looked at her suspiciously-thinking he’d fired her or stole her parking space before-and it dawned on him where he had seen her.

“Are you the actress from Living Grape?”

“Yes I am, Jen is my name,” Jen replied. “Did you like that movie?”

“Like it, well yes!” Nathan gushed with his whole face smiling now. “Boy, the people you meet in this town, ex-TRORD-ornary! Well then, I’m rooting for you, Jen, you could get a nomination. You never can tell,” Nathan said coyly as he knew already she had been nominated-he also knew full well she’d remember him saying that forever.

Jen looked at him wondering what he meant by that; seeing as she hadn’t won very many awards leading up till now.

“Let’s go, Jen,” Jack interrupted, as he stood halfway in the secret passageway with his eyes on Jen (Jack didn’t like Nathan’s way of discounting him entirely the whole time they’d been there. He half hoped to blacken his eye).

Jen looked at Nathan and smiled like she’d been handed a fistful of money. She pointed at her hand-as she pretended to be holding an Oscar-and Nathan chuckled.

“Enjoy the evening Laron always throws the best parties,” Nathan said as he swung his left hand out and in rhythmically as the secret door closed.

Jen ducked into the secret passageway. Instantly they were consumed by darkness suitable for bats and skunks alone. They could barely see a faint light at the end of the tunnel, but it looked so very far away.

“Man, someday I want someone to tell me that,” Jack said glumly with his chest heaving from fear of the passageway. “Jack, you’re going to get nominated for an Oscar. Now hand me that shit bucket,”

Jack said as he ducked his head down under the ceiling.

Jen and Scott laughed at this-Jen knowing that was every person’s dream in town-and they lurked forward through the darkness. Soon, they started to hear people talking; and then they heard some loud fifties music. Scott found the choice of music odd, but he figured it was all odd if you looked at it the wrong way.

“Hey, see that guy standing next to my car,” Jen whispered as she moved towards her Red mustang.

“I wonder if we can get past him?” asked Jen.

“I don’t know, Jen, he doesn’t look to be going anywhere,” whispered Jack glumly as he eyed her car and the figure of a man beside it. “He reminds me of Jim for some reason. Look how’s he’s standing, that’s totally Jim,” Jack said thankfully as he slowly opened the round grass covered door to the

courtyard. They hurried over to a red lipstick colored limousine; and tried to slowly work their way over to Jen’s car.

“Is anybody listening?!” Jen yelled. She used this as a means to an end hoping to scare Jim to death.

Jim slowly spun around and nodded like a hungry horse. Jen brightened,” Oh hey, Jim.”

“Oh hey, Jack, where’s that skank Jen, and cool dude Scott?”

Jen grabbed Jim around the waist; and hoisted him off the hood of her car like a sack of potatoes.

Jen answered,” I’m right here, the place I am, Jim. And when I find the place, it’s the place to be.”

“Nah, its minimum wage alley, or some cabbage farm,” Jim said soothingly with his eyes watching the upstairs window of Laron’s mansion. He could see something there-some sort of angry struggle from a bad movie-but he couldn’t quite make it out. “Not quite the place to be, but a place still to roam. I’ll give you that. You guys look sweaty and tired, what have you been doing?” Jim readjusted his seat on Jen’s car. He could feel Scott breathing heavy behind him and Jim spun around; he could see Scott was nervous and nearly hyperventilating.

“Oh I forgot, Jim, we have to get out of here,” Jen said and sighed. “I’ll explain why in the car, please hurry,” Jen begged as she spied someone halfway up the stairs; who was pulling the front door halfway open.

“Alright let’s roll,” he said clearing his throat and coughing but once. “I could go for some Mickey D’s anyway. Yeah that party wasn’t my style, too many smelly old guys for me. Oh, I did talk to Ben, and he’s going to celebrate with us tomorrow-if one of us gets nominated. Oh, so there’s that, and that is ah…pretty good,” Jim said as he hopped in the front seat and Jack and Scott in the back.

Jen fired up the engine; and headed right past the guards at the front gate. Just as she departed, Laron glided out the front door to watch them go. He already had an idea it was them that had watched

his TV, but now he was certain. He also knew-by law of L.A. (which stated no stars were to be attacked in any way during an Oscar season) that she was currently untouchable-and he slowly simmered over this.

After grabbing some food they went back to the Chateau Marmont; where Jim-who felt like being a high roller-got them a bungalow. They lounged around for most of the night: drinking, smoking, and acting like the world was going to end. Soon they lost their will to party; and everyone fell fast asleep.

Jim awoke to his implant buzzing like it was going to explode. He batted it with his hand and squinted at the sun over the top of the purple drapes. ”WHAT?!” asked Jim sharply.

“Jim, you’re nominated for an academy award,” Morshalt Green said cheerily (Jim’s agent and friend in the business) as he got some head from his assistant Randy. “Wake the hell up, YOU IS

SOMEBODY!”

Jim was more than awake now-his mind racing and his skin feeling warmer than usual-he fell out of bed and started screaming like a carnie at the fair(YOU GOTTA SPEND MONEY TO MAKE MONEY!

SPEND MONEY TO MAKE MONEY! MONEY, MONEY, WIN MONEY) and Jim punched the ceiling clean through sending white plaster down onto the rug.

Jack woke up with a hangover-mostly behind the eyes-and asked,” What’s going on, Jim?”

“What?” Jim asked stunned there was anyone else in the room with him. “Oh yeah, I ah, I had a pretty good morning. I got nominated for an OS-car. So it’s back into Porno for me. Ha hah ha I feel GREAT! When the worm finally gets eaten, it’s only the new worm that lives. Jen, wake up you lazy GUS!” Jim yelled excitedly into Jen’s sleeping ear.

Jen recoiled-like a snake before it strikes-glared up at Jim through blinking eyes. ” What are you babbling about?” asked Jen her voice less than pleasant. “It’s four thirty in the morning, Jim Nuts, go back to sleepy.”

“NO, no you’re not sleeping through this one,” Jim said as he knelt down; and he hugged Jen like a bear would its cub. “Jen, I got nominated for an Oscar. You can’t call me anything other than that, for a LONG TIME.”

“Whoa, holy cow that’s amazing,” Jen said stunned as she rolled over with her lower lip quivering.

“I wonder if Ben got his nod. You deserve it, Jim; you work harder than anyone I know. Does the internet work on your sunglasses?” Jen asked coyly-she knew it did, but didn’t want to jinx herself-and she rolled out of bed rubbing her eyes.

“Yes it does, here see if they nominated you,” Jim said cheerily as he jumped around the room.

“I wish, but so did dollar coins,” Jen admitted as she attached it to her head. “Here, yahoo please?

God I hope this isn’t the worst day ever. Who got nominated for Oscars from Living Grape?” Jen asked matter-of-factly, sitting on the edge of the bed cross legged (as she often did).

Jim cawed like a crow; and he jumped around making sure to punch every wall he saw, right through. Jack and Scott joined him in this; and they flooded out in the hallway and started hitting every other door they saw. The whole hotel heard the colossal happening-not that their wine filled heads wanted to-and got out of their beds.

“Jen, have faith, even a bum gets a whole dollar sometime,” Jim said as he ran past Jen cackling like a lunatic; and she slapped him on the butt so hard he winced, but kept on flipping out.

“Ben Train, I knew he would get his nod,” Jen said glumly knowing Ben had done the best performance of them all. “Jim Kay, yeah expected that one. And Jen Blacktide, great I didn’t get…what?

What was that last one?” Jen asked in disbelief as her heart beat faster than a world class sprinter’s; her eyes widening and her legs standing up (without her even realizing they had). Her legs shaking, she got the confirmation she had been nominated when she heard her name read by the yahoo news associate.

She stumbled towards the bathroom: eyes blurry, legs trembling now, and puked on the way in.

“What’s up?” Jack wondered as he poked his head back into their suite. “Is she sick or something?”

Jack asked as he watched Jen stand up quickly-too quickly to keep her balance-and she fell onto the bathroom sink.

“I just got nominated, and I puked like a loser, tough” Jen told Jack as she tried to right the ship. “So guess what, I get to wear a dress, and be rude to non-dress wearing people. And that’s taffy, they don’t sell,” Jen said sarcastically, and she danced over and grabbed a towel from the rack: and proceeded to clean herself up as she sang (Good day sunshine, her favorite Beatles song to wake up to). Jack cleaned up the floor; while Jim and Scott continued punching the walls.

“Jen, I knew you would get it, I knew it,” Jim said hollowly with a cocky smile-but he didn’t think she’d get the nod, due to her lack of wins leading up to the Oscars. He just needed her to think he did-as he blew Jen kisses. “Talent, lives between the ears, but few people can get it out. Jen Blacktide, Oscar nominee can’t fake it. Hey let’s go ask people if they want our autographs. Don’t say no it’s so right,”

Jim raised his voice to sound like a cartoon character in duress and that touched Jen’s funny bone. Then he bounced off the wall-literally bouncing off the plaster-onto Scott’s bed. Jim knew he deserved this sweet day-more than anyone else is the way he saw it-and he was going to savor it.

“No, that would be crazy talk,” Jen continued,” We’ll go ask horses if they know our smells. That, that’s what winners do,” Jen said sarcastically as she peeled off her top; and she danced quickly as she put on her sundress. Jen felt so good she couldn’t stop her slight smile all day. What a day what a great life.

Chapter 8

It’s Why They Make Tinsel

The sun was cooking people-most tasted like chicken, but some the previous night’s wine-on the streets of Hollywood the day before the Oscars ceremony. Ben, Jim, and Jen had been in the middle of press junkets every day, all the time, leading up ‘til now. They knew the value of an award millions of people in their neighborhood alone wanted to win. As long as people wanted to hear you talk, talk is what you did, nothing but talk. If you showed any animosity or anger, your Oscar was just handed to someone else. Ben knew it all too well, he remembered his younger years.

There was an interview with ABC that he infamously remarked,” I’ve won, and every dirt bag actor knows it. So they can hand it to me today, or tomorrow, but it’s always mine, and mine alone.” The academy-and all of Hollywood really-were offended by his cockiness and it cost him dearly (they handed that one to Adam Gerfetch and he didn’t seem to mind).

Ben finds himself at this moment sitting across from Giane Grade-and she is a ball breaker extraordinaire (if ever there was one)-a blonde haired beautiful woman of 50. Ben looks at her-like you’d look at the principal giving you detention, not angry, but cautious-and tries to say warm friendly words in his mind to her.

“And we’re back, Ben, is it hard to be nominated in the same year as Beth?” Giane asked darkly.

“It’s got to be terrible,” Giane said coyly as she smiled-with a smile that makes most disease free people fell sick-and she touched Ben’s knee. She knew all too well their history; and would love nothing more than to watch the great Ben Train blow it right here, and right after the bottle of wine they shared.

“No, not at all, Beth and I have a nice relationship now,” Ben said hollowly as he shuffled in his seat.

“I saw her not long ago, and we talked for a long while. These things, these aches and walls we put up, they were worthless,” Ben said as he grinned-barely being able to believe his own lie, but knowing the

stakes all the while-and he pulled out a gold cigarette case and set it on his knee. “She’s an amazingly talented person and a good friend now. To see us both back on top so to speak, it really is a joy for both of us,” Ben spoke as if he was best friends with Giane, but they were far from it. He looked at Giane with warm eyes. He knew Beth and he had not spoken as friends in decades, but by the time Giane found out, he’d be at the Oscars. He knew this because Beth was at a health and body retreat for the day without any implants or technology (a little get out of my way Oscar gift from Ben).

“Hmm, well does it make you sad to think of the things you said in the past?” Giane asked ratcheting up the pressure. “Like ah, I’ve won, and every dirt bag actor knows it. So they can hand it to me today or, ah…tomorrow. Remember that one?” Giane asked coyly as she grimaced-begging for him to take the bait and fail-and she reached over and grabbed both of Ben’s knees nearly knocking over his cigarette case (which is why he put it there, to throw her off). She knew all too well Ben hated to be touched by anyone he didn’t know well. She saw a different look in his eye this time, one that confused her.

“When I got that nomination, I was a young man full of reckless emotion,” Ben agreed. “I think back about that, and I wonder who that person was. To be given the keys to the car is one thing. To get in and drive, another altogether,” said Ben as he looked down and rubbed his temple with his index finger. “I wasted my opportunities, because I was afraid to succeed. Those days, I just…I just ache to remember them,” Ben admitted-with the best heavy heart he could act-and he welled up slightly. “I thank god for the days I have now, and the work I’ll do with them,” Ben said with a quick set of 3 blinks-as he wanted to slap her hands off his knees with a baseball bat-and he sat back and put his hand in front of his face.

“That’s beautiful, Ben, beautiful,” Giane said hollowly as she sat back-knowing he was probably lying through his teeth-and then she sat forward and changed the page on her notes. “They tell me we have to go, I hope you do well. Men like you are hard to come by, say hi to Beth for me won’t ya?”

“Of course, thank you for having me on,” Ben replied coyly as he rose like a geyser-the quicker the better he thought-and gently grabbed both sides of Giane’s face and kissed her.

Giane looked at him like she was getting felt up by a stranger in the subway (as the show went to commercial).

“Ben, you’d washed your hands today right?” Giane asked helplessly.

“Oh yeah, twice yesterday,” Ben reassured her as he walked off with a brief wave over his shoulder.

Ben walked out of ABC studios quicker than a bank robber out of the bank vault. He signed some autographs on the way to the limo. He turned suddenly to look down the long street-a street he had defiled so many ways in the past-and knew he was having the time of his life.

He flew to L.A. on the tube train-not as much fun as you would think, the nausea and all-and made it in one hour. He hurried over to the tailor-a man known simply as Shavon by lovers and foes-and picked up his black tux. There would be no fashion statements tomorrow night, he thought. Not this time, not if he expected to keep his karma flowing in the right direction.

“Hi there, Julie, I see you’re not eating,” Ben noted.

“Watch it, Ben, you know my thighs need work,” snapped Julie as she lifted up the ruffles on her dress. “I’m not going as the fattest woman there, I won’t,” Julie said sharply as she sucked in her stomach-that was held together by more glue than most planes-and continued having her marble blue dress fitted in their living room.

“You look amazing, I shouldn’t have poked fun,” Ben added irrelevantly; however Julie was already past it. “I heard there’s a luncheon today, for the nominees. Thought maybe, we’d…”

“We’re going, help me get these damn pins out,” Julie interrupted as she motioned for Shavon-who was eyeing the pizza delivery boy and BUSY at the moment-to let her dress out.

They changed clothes and went over to Ivy-if you lived there that’s what you called it, but technically it was The Ivy-and walked in amongst the nominees. Jim and Jen were calmly talking with everyone; and this made Ben grin. He knew Jim had an extra gear he was hiding, but he didn’t realize Jen did too, (‘til that very moment as the look in her eyes gave it away).

“Jim, how’s your broken penis treating ya?” Ben asked decisively with bold eyes and a grin.

Jim looked over quickly; and he saw Ben grinning and Jim smiled at this. ” Not as good as my glass eye, but thanks for mentioning it,” Jim said sarcastically as he fussed with his left eye-it was real but could go lazy if he wanted-making Ben chuckle. “How’s your missing penis, any luck?” Jim asked as if Ben were humiliated by his joke.

“No, we can only hope,” Ben fired back smiling now more strangely and directly into Jim’s eyes (it looked like he’d caught him having sex or stealing to Jim). “Jen, are you really…going to laugh at ALL

his jokes?” Ben retorted as he burst out laughing like a jackass-the kind of laugh you did when you realized someone was cheating at the poker table-and he bent over at the waist. He realized right then and there, they had been playing him the whole time; he thought he was playing them. They were far from hayseeds and he knew it now like a goose knows the shape of the axe.

Jim and Jen were laughing-they got the message from the kind of laugh Ben was doing, they knew they were caught.

“Ben, you haven’t been conning us this whole time have ya?” Jim asked sarcastically as his hands sat on his hips like he was waiting for the truth. “You’re not really some joke telling fool are ya? Because Jen and I are hayseeds, second bushel,” Jim said as he fought to stop himself from laughing-knowing he had no chance of doing that at this point-but he couldn’t. Jim knew then Ben had caught onto him and Jen-Ben knowing they knew he had solved their rouse-and they all started laughing like crazy people on the midnight bus.

“Jim, I knew you were second tier, dumpster 8, but not eating the fish eggs,” remarked Ben while his hands were messing up his own hair. “Hey, let’s grab a table, and we’ll act like the people we’ve been using. This way, hurry, before you start pretending to be ordinary again,” Ben insisted as he motioned for Jim and Jen to follow Julie and him through the crowd.

They breezed past Hollywood royalty: up and comers, wannabes, nobody’s all of which watching their every move. Everyone in that restaurant knew they (Ben, Jim, and Jen) were the best and stiffest competition in town. The room they stumbled into; was open air, cool temperature (no one wants to sweat on Oscar Sunday), and a bar of only the best; perched beyond a red table in the center. There were chairs for each nominee around a massive table; with place settings with Dragon shaped napkins and gold silverware. The band Toolsupport, were set up in the back playing hits of yesteryear on a clam shaped stage. The air was moist and the wait staff ready.

“Two bottles, and a nice appetizer,” Ben asked the waiter (who was surprised by his youthful tone).

“Oh god, Julie, are you coming, Dear?” asked Ben as he coughed into his hand-fearing a single germ escaping could cost him dearly-and saw Julie chatting up a big time actor named Steele Klammer (Klammer played.the 5th and 6th versions of Thor, made a lot of money too). Julie waved her hand and head no. ” Suit, yourself,” Ben said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Jim, what sort of work did you do before you were an actor?”

“I was rich, I’m good at business, Ben, but no one wins awards for making money,” Jim confessed as he played with his gold fork. “Yeah you get the money, but nobody cares but the poor. I needed kicks, and I sought them out,” Jim paused and then continued, “Here’s a funny story, but true story. I set off, to see your hologram and to act with you on Veraclare. I left my 2 year girlfriend, at the Spaceport and have never seen her, again,” Jim said proudly as his chest seemed to lift and his eyes smile. “I left my business behind, and have since sold it. I know what prestige feels like, and it is worth all the bad conversations

with extras I have ever had,” Jim joked as he sat back-he didn’t need more than this moment of triumph to give him happiness for a lifetime-and he was promptly poured a glass of Dom.

Ben heard this story and was transported back to his coma, but he was able to smirk it off.

“Ben, would you like to know what I left behind?” Jen asked while she tied her hair back and felt extremely emotional (she was like a young child saying I love you to her father for the first time).

“Yes, yes I would,” Ben replied. “And where did you meet, Jim here, WAIT, it was the ship wasn’t it?”

“Yes it was, I left this behind,” Jen answered with an eye full of tears. “JEN, the damn fries are cold!! GET THE COOKER GOING!” yelled Jen sarcastically as she cupped her hands like a football coach to make it really loud.

Ben and Jim cracked up and many people were taking notice. Jim looked and saw the lower level actors looking in on them, and flipped them the bird.

“So you were quite successful?” Ben retorted.

“Ben, oh I could strangle you,” Jen said playfully as she examined her salad. “Oh, and one other thing, I left daydreaming behind. I live life now, not wish I could. That, is more valuable than anything,”

admitted Jen as she tapped her fork on the side of her salad bowl; and she looked down at her dress for a moment (one that Ben noticed).

“We all left that, or it left us,” Ben suggested as he thought about the chestnuts of the past. “You can live one day as a famous person and never grow old again. Or you can feel every second of every day as a failure, and never feel youth. A great man told me that once, he said, take whatever you can get. Until you can get what you want. That knowledge, that truth really, never more true than right now for me,”

Ben said as he sipped his champagne; and then he looked up into the blue cloudless sky.

Jen and Jim looked up and saw anti-gravity limousines flying all over the place (they looked like drunk on cider crows flying at midnight). They appeared to be intersecting from their vantage point-making Jim a bit nervous they might crash into one another-but they were on different heights. Jim spied all this with one eye covered by his hand; and he knew no one had ever seen a sight like that where he came from.

“I see, so they let in the help,” Laron said sarcastically, as he strutted over to the table; and then he promptly sat down beside Jim.

“Yes, and it pays good,” responded Jim with an arm around Laron. “Hey, Laron, sorry about the party,” Jim said apologetically, as he rubbed Laron’s back (a heaven for Laron he didn’t believe he’d ever know biblically).

“No worries, it went well after you left,” Laron said in a warning voice-as he was not o.k. with what had gone down at the party. “We had a time, a great time. Jen, what ah…prompted you to leave so early last night? You left in such a blur is all,” Laron said coyly-knowing full well that the little bitch had seen more than she should have-and he looked through Jen and hoped she’d blow it in her answer.

Jen looked back confidently-seeing Laron as weak and no one to be feared (How little she knew)-and then jerked her head to one side.

“Nauseous, yeah felt sick is all.”

“I see, must have been the bonding, gets me every time,” Laron insisted hollowly and he looked down his nose at Jen (like the last cow at the slaughterhouse). Laron knew she was slighting him with these lies; and to him that was beyond horrific.

“Hey can we get a picture?!” Lee Ped asked-he was from the Hollywood Foreign Press, their head photographer-and he used his holographic camera to get them all in the floating frame.

They all posed, and Laron motioned with his hand for the picture to be taken, and it was. They all left after a few more drinks; summed up the day and headed home, to get ready.

Oscar Sunday came and everyone in town was up early and ready to shine. Jen and Jim were at the Beverly Hills Hotel sipping wine next to the pool; this while their hair was crimped and straightened.

“Jim?”

“Yeah what?” asked Jim as he lay flat on his back using 5 inch (3,500 dollar towels) to lift up his torso.

“I have some news to tell you.”

“O.k. shoot!” fired back Jim innocently.

“Jim, I’m pregnant,” Jen blurted out the words anxiously. She didn’t know what he’d say, but she hoped he’d always be with her.

Jim sat up with a glimmering of surprise encompassing him. ”Really?” asked Jim before he even knew what he was saying. “Oh that’s great! OH, I’m not gonna be an idiot bachelor all my life. You know what’s funny?”

“What?” Jen asked timidly.

“I bought this thing, it means something,” Jim said coyly as he fussed with his pockets. “And I was gonna, ask you tomorrow, but since this amazing thing has happened,” Jim muttered as he searched his pocket. “Well sir, I’m gonna ask you today,” Jim said nervously as his hands shook and he started to sweat on his upper lip; and he moved the hairstylist back from him, and got down on one knee.

Jen’s breathing gave her emotions away-her chest heaving and her eyes filled with raindrops of love-while Jim had tears in his eyes, as Jen played with her hands (like a fumbling football hero).

“Jim, is it real?” Jen asked tearfully, with her hands on Jim’s shoulders (the pool staff watching keenly).

“Yes, Jen, I’ve loved you since the first day we met,” Jim said honestly with his eyes blinking to stay ahead of the tears (appearances and all). “You’re kind, considerate, beautiful, and stunning. I don’t care if it hurts my career, or any of that shit. Jen, will you marry me? I’ll make a good husband,” Jim took a breath: hesitated, rubbed his neck, and swallowed hard. All this before Jen stopped him with the brush of her hand.

“YES!!” Jen cried with all those years of voice training producing a mighty sound (loud enough to echo to the far end of the hotel). “I will marry you stop blowing it! Just kiss me already,” Jen begged tearfully as she nervously tried to grab and kiss Jim (like many times before) but these were not those times, and she forgot what to do. Jen started thinking of her father-the times he had her kiss his cheek before every day of school-and then she just grabbed him and planted one hell of a whopper on him.

The other celebrities around the pool all pretended to be bored-yawning was the agreed upon lie-and then threw their wine into the pool in disgust.

“Mr. Kay, we need to get you back to the room,” Rathers Windon interjected (with a snooty eye and the words GOD SAVE THE QUEEN’S LAWYER embroidered on his white gloves). “There are still some final touches to undergo. And you need to get your armpits botoxed,” Rathers spoke firmly-assuring that Jim took him deadly serious-and he hurried over to Jim and offered him a robe. Rathers was hired by Jim for the day-seeing as he hated small details, and to have to take care of all that minutia would make Jim normally nervous.

“Yeah, just a second, I’ve got an important person here,” Jim answered with a smile only a movie star could have; and he looked at Jen and kissed her.

They made their way back to their room; and started the process of putting on each individual piece of clothing. It was sunny like a hay field in the summer; and warm with no chance of rain at all. Jen couldn’t stop beaming, and Jim kept rubbing her stomach.

Ben was halfway across the city by now; just getting into his limo for one more ride around town.

He thought about winning for just a minute, and then stopped himself. He wondered if Beth was going to ruin his party ( he had a feeling).

“Gloria, I didn’t ask for your stupid OPINION!” Beth cried angrily as she pushed her hairdresser out of the way. “Now shut that talentless mouth! If you only knew the power it takes to tame, this animal.

Well if you knew you’d be famous, simple huh? God, if they don’t put my picture on the front page of the post I’ll die. Tell my bodyguards to warm up the Rolls. I got spines to CRACK,” Beth demanded savagely, as she zipped up the top of her coat, along the lapel, slowly. The suit she had on was silver with small black spots every so often.

Beth strolled out to her veranda like a stallion out for a lap; and she spied a pathetic wannabe actor climbing towards the Hollywood sign. She wondered if she should shoot him; and save him the pain and suffering of failure. She eyed the red haired man as he fell back some 5 feet and hit his head. This made her cackle, as Gloria came out and wrapped her arms around Beth’s waist.

“Another bus fare to famous kid?” asked Gloria as she sucked on Beth’s ear and felt around her crotch.

“Yes, and they fall so hard it hurts me to watch,” Beth said with an air of evil in her voice. “What is he thinking? There’s no work up there, Loser! The work is in New York, everyone knows that! You come out here to get famous, you get death or prison. My look at him, he keeps falling, and then climbing. If I get that dimwitted, put out my fuse,” Beth insisted sadly as she kissed Gloria on the cheek.

Beth turned and French kissed Gloria hard, nearly smearing her lipstick.

“Do we have time?” Gloria hoped.

“Gloria, any other day yes, not today, Sweetheart,” Beth said flatly. “Let’s go crush some dreams, and then we’ll wake them the hell up,” Beth said, licking Gloria’s mouth like she was fucking her.

Walking through Beth’s mansion they were met by her butler Lonny Frayed; he was holding the house door open for her. Then her pet watcher handed her Nutly (the white Chihuahua). She knelt down, and then got her left foot kissed (for good luck) by her limo driver. She took one last look down the street-seeing destiny in the palm trees-and smiled. She knew she was going to destroy them all, and laugh.

“Beth, when the thing happens, how do you want me to react?” Gloria asked, sitting beside Beth and stroking her hair.

“Just don’t run,” Beth demanded. “If anything, sit and say things like, how could this happen?

Where is the security? That always works, and no one expects you to have a professional delivery anyway. Oh by the way, don’t mention this again. Not today, tonight, or any other day I’m alive,” Beth insisted sternly as she held Gloria’s forearm tight as a snare drum. “That way the honey stays firmly in the pot. Oh, you look marvelous today, just thought you should know,” Beth said-with all the sincerity of a horse thief-and she put her hand on Gloria’s leg; and pressed her lips hard against her cheek.

“Thank you, it means a lot,” Gloria replied honestly as she started to tear up (even though she was truly scared of what Beth would do to her someday, she still loved her).

“Whoa, don’t cry on my makeup,” Beth cried sharply as she slapped Beth away from her. “Please, places to be, Honey, places to be,” Beth said, as she recoiled from Gloria and checked her makeup in the mirror (that the butler was kindly holding up for her).

Meanwhile Jim and Jen were in their own limousine; and they were heading for the receiving line.

Jim just had a feeling he or Jen would win (thinking it was more him than her). He really didn’t care at this point if Ben won; seeing as he knew Ben was just as cutthroat as anyone.

“Wow, look at all the limos,” Jim remarked with his eyes darting from each of the lavish limos (some made to look like mansions, others covered in gold and diamonds). “I could tell people I was here, but they’d have to see me here to believe it. Look, look at all the tourists and extras watching us. They think, and I read this, that they are going to end up in this limo someday. Which is true for five, out of like…ten thousand. The rest, hey I need someone to fetch me coffee,” Jim said as he sat back and opened his window a crack (so no one could look in, but they’d have to guess who was in there at the same time).

”They just need a break,” Jen said. “Every one of them could be great, but they need someone to tell them that. When the day comes you don’t, you’re ready to succeed. I miss home, even now I miss it,”

Jen confessed as she rested her head on Jim’s chest.

Jim’s eyes fell down to her. He kissed her on the head and said warmly,” I miss it too, just not today.”

They were lined up into their reserved parking slot, and flew in. They were met by a gaggle of staff to get them anything they wanted. The long receiving line for photos was 15 feet away, but felt a lot closer.

“Jen?” asked Jim.

“Yeah, Jim Nuts?” replied Jen.

“I think we should name our baby Oscar,” Jim said sarcastically as he looked at Jen like he’d told her he was a secret F.B.I. agent. “Just think, then when he’s working at a fast food joint, he’ll have status,”

Jim joked as he tried to keep from smiling too much. “And he can maybe make it up to fry cook, that’s

something,” Jim said as he raised his hand out the side door of the car (just enough to make the staff jumpy).

“No, we’ll name him Tom, just like Tom Thumb,” Jen said as she patted Jim on the belly. “That was my favorite book as a child, and it’s a good name. Tom, Jim, and Jen, perfect,” Jen said as she walked along the black marble floor hallway-with dozens of famous people eyeing them as they strode past-and Jen checked her hair in a mirror the staff was holding up for her.

Ben was already in the receiving line getting his picture taken (playing the game of course). He was smiling when he saw Giane from ABC; she was coming his way, but he didn’t have time to run.

“Oh hey, Giane, great seeing but I’m a bit late.”

“I just need ten minutes, Ben, just ten pre-Oscars,” Giane said hollowly as she smiled like a school girl. “Come now, there’s a wonderment of things we can talk about,” Giane said coyly-she hoped to rattle Ben pre-show and get him back for lying to her about Beth-and Ben smirked with his eyes small.

Ben kept walking and said quickly,” No, just don’t have the time. Hey come see me after the show, we’ll talk,” Ben said hollowly as he was leaving the second he won, and he knew it.

Giane went to say something, and then thought “what’s the point” and she stopped herself.

Ben breezed past the first few interviewers-not showing any weakness or he’d incur their nervous hello wrath-and stopped at Hanna Weight. She was 6 foot 5 and weighed 300 pounds of WATCH OUT

OR I WILL HURT YOU. Her hair was black with grey streaks in it; and she was wearing a black suit.

Everyone loved her for her softballs.

“Ben, am I talking to a winner?”

“I hope so, Hanna, but I just love being recognized for good work,” Ben answered nonchalantly as he adjusted his tie. “You look great, who did your outfit?” Ben asked coyly as he slid his hand down her lapel-as he knew that question always spiked interest among viewers-and smiled like he’d won a car.

“Only the best!” retorted Hanna with a strong smile.

“I have the same tailor, see you inside,” Ben said as he gave her a hug: and then he darted past what was left of the journalists and eyepoppers (the celebrity horde were always watching his every move; constantly looking at him out of the corner of their eyes). He knew this was what the older generation could do and get away with-often times sending decoys to the receiving line ahead of them-but he made sure to smile and say hi to everyone he saw (just in case Oscar was watching. Seeing as the votes didn’t get counted until they had seen who you were wearing that evening, regardless of what the popular belief was).

Ben walked into the staging area using peremptory commands-HI YOU LOOK GREAT, WE

SHOULD WORK TOGETHER, HOW’S YOUR AGENT THESE DAYS (It was all bull)-as he walked into the Kodak theater and sang that sweet chin music for a few minutes. He was dying to get inside; so he snuck past a few up and comers, and looked quickly for his seat.

“Great, right on the aisle, and close,” Ben muttered as he made sure to look up and over the audience before even thinking of sitting down. “Alright,” Ben said as Julie walked in behind him through the not talent entrance (they used that for the craft service people and security. The name stemming from a young actor turned fry cook-named Luppi Sanchez-from the fifties. Who they said only made it to the Oscar’s because he knew his way around a tuna melt).

“Ben, how long should we wait to sit down, Darling?” Julie asked as she hugged Ben; and she watched him working the room with his eyes and brilliant smile.

“Not long, just waiting for someone else to be the first one,” Ben said as he smiled a perfect smile for the Oscar’s official cameraman. “There, that idiot over there just sat down, perfect. So how do you like it?”

“I love it, and I love you,” Julie spoke with a soothing tone. “Win me a paperweight.”

“We either won, or lost it already,” Ben confessed believing the process was pure. “The votes are cast. Hey Jim and Jen are sitting down several rows back. Sucks being new meat, enjoy the I hope I don’t trip marathon to the stage,” said Ben as he watched Jim shaking Hands with Laron; and Laron patting Jen on the shoulder with a certain degree of more strength than normal in his hand-Ben wondered if Laron was high again and going to get sloppy. Ben watched him carefully; and there was something to the way Laron patted Jen as well, it struck him odd.

Everyone filed in, with Beth and Gloria waiting until they were virtually last. The room dimmed and the host that night-Jacob Green from the show Vegas is a sundial-came out and danced through the nominee’s movies. Everyone watched with disdain; and they did their best fake laughs.

“Jen, this is bad, like so completely junior high funny,” Jim whispered into Jen’s ear, and they both chuckled.

“You’re not kidding,” corroborated Jen kindly. “I wonder if they try this material on dead people first?” asked Jen jokingly.

“Of course, best laugh track there is,” Jim replied using a Louisiana accent. “Now what, oh God the technical awards, ugh,” Jim said as he leaned back and tried to act interested; this while several technical awards were being given out. They finally got to, and through, the first acting award for best supporting actress. It went to Farion Houldeart-a French actress who played an old sea captain so well, people thought she was faking being a woman-and she was a strikingly beautiful blonde bombshell.

After awhile Jim’s award arrived; and he wasn’t even nervous about it. He had just sat there so long he didn’t care on certain level if he won.

“Jim?”

“Yeah, Jen, what is it?”

“You deserve to win,” Jen said softly as she held Jim’s right hand. She knew enough not to kiss him in front of the cameras-seeing as it would seem low class and common-and take his moment away.

Then British funny man George Windsor started fumbling with the envelope (he was high and half in two bags). He acted like he couldn’t get it open for the life of him. ” You didn’t have to use real tar to seal it. I mean, you paid me for an-SURRS! I may not get it open, but Rome was built in a day. Who’s that?” George asked sarcastically as he tried to open it-while he blew kisses to an already over the bit he was doing crowd-by using his feet and hands.

“This guy’s hilarious,” Jim said as he checked his pockets for a chewable cigarette; and he watched George fall on his ass, and the envelope go flying high into the first row.

George went down to get it stumbling like he was drunk (which was only partially an act). George asked,” No you didn’t win it, Anna, for real men only. Come now, give us a hand,” George said intently as he stood on stage-nearly falling over to get at least one more laugh-and then opened the envelope. ”

The Oscar goes to…James Kay.”

Jim heard what he said, but it didn’t register with him at all. He started the courtesy clap before he looked at Jen and saw her excitement.

“JIM, YOU WON! God you’re a cornball,” Jen said excitedly as she held Jim’s head in her hands like a soccer ball.

He looked at her blankly; and then kissed her hard on the lips, and walked quickly up to the stage.

Laron-who was in the back-was sitting calmly and gently clapping; as a man in a black suit walked up to him and said firmly,” The goose is in the oven, be ready soon.”

“Yes, and won’t it cook well,” Laron responded sternly as his eyes followed Jim up to the stage.

“I can’t believe it!” Jim yelled as he jumped in the air, stomping his feet as he landed. “Man, and it’s only my 300th try,” said Jim sarcastically as he set down his Oscar like a rare piece of China. He moved up to the microphone and paused for just a second. “Well I want to thank homeless man number 35, for the nice striptease this morning. No, I shouldn’t kid, it was 37, you’re awesome in your nude suit, Pal. I need to thank you, Jen, who I love and always will. I knew the second I saw her we’d be together forever, no question about it. Now I wish forever was a bit faster, and cleaner,” Jim said jokingly as he threw his shoulders back and clenched his fists. “No, just kidding, I’d like to thank the Academy. And in my second page of my five thousand, I’d like to say thank you. Thank you for all the great movies, the moments, and the endless rides home. HAVE A GREAT NIGHT!”

“YEAAHH!!” cheered Ben with his hands clapping faster than he thought he could. “Way to go, JIMMY!” Ben said excitedly as he straightened his collar and let out a long sigh; this while Jim got a standing ovation as he walked off the stage. ” One down, Julie, let’s hope for two more. Wow, he killed it!”

They gave out the director of the year award next; and the speech nearly bored the back row to death.

Jen eyed the: white suit wearing, white haired, white bearded man heading for the podium carrying her envelope. She didn’t recognize him, but he looked familiar.

“Hi there, I am Frand Shields, I am the president of the motion picture association of America,”

Frand said softly with his left hand shaking. “This next award will go to an old pro, Beth, how are you.

Or, possibly a young newcomer like, Jen Blacktide hmm,” said Frand nervously. “Ready ladies?” asked Frand kindly as he motioned for the different clips from each of the nominee’s movies to run.

Beth sat there looking forward and gently smiling (she knew she’d won this year, for talent always does). She didn’t like the setup one bit; she thought Frand a bit of a nincompoop comparing her to an ingénue, but she figured he’d be out on the street in an hour. She knew she’d like the night’s ending regardless.

“Here we go, hold on tight,” Jim declared as he held Jen’s hand.

“I’m not going to flip out, it’s too much fun,” Jen said as she watched Frand look at the name in the envelope. He smiled and Jen blurted out fearlessly,” I just won the Oscar.”

“The Oscar goes to…JENNY BLACKTIDE!”

“I knew it, oh my god,” Jen spoke with a voice filled with undeniable joy. “Jim, don’t let me pass out. Here goes…oh I love this town,” Jen said as she lit in with a smile and kissed Jim. She stood up-like it was nobody’s business impressing the elite-and lifted her dress up high enough so she could walk.

“Yes!” Ben said as he smiled from ear to ear; his eyes caught Jim’s and they both made” I can’t believe it either” faces. “There’s two, Gorgeous, one to go,” Ben said as he waved to Jen as she passed; and she reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

“So, thank you for the Oscar, it is as heavy as my pet rock,” Jen said her smiling eyes earnest and wide. “I’m not complaining the Oscar’s good too. No, I’m just uh, so I tried to dream yesterday. I tried to dream a better life than I’ve had this last year, or so. And I couldn’t, nothing made me ache that way.

So I say to you, keep us all aching for more, we’ll only love you for it. I love you, Jim, and oh I thank the Academy,” Jen said causing an explosion of applause and chuckles; and she turned and danced off the stage (Oscar firmly in hand).

“Wow, I wonder if Ben can do it,” Jim muttered.

Jen went backstage; and she was being ushered to the reporters, but stopped them, because she needed some air.

“Can I please get some air?” Jen begged as she lifted her dress. “I’ll be right back I swear,” Jen said to the usher, and he looked at her like the boat had a hole in it.

“Yes, we can do whatever you want, you’re an Oscar winner,” Rafael said hollowly as he grinned; and showed her through the horde of people: to the back door, out of the kitchen, through the steak fridge, and into the alley.

Jen heard the door slam shut behind her; and she let out a scream for the ages. She hadn’t had a sports memory she could cling to, a boyfriend before Jim she loved, but now she had an even greater love, acting. She jumped up and down hitting the air with her free hand; then she bent down and touched the wet ground. ” I am not a loser anymore.” She thought of that white haired man Gratus, saying those words she only now could remember and grasp at. She wondered if her lens would always be hers to hold. She lifted her left leg like a ballerina; and looked up into the sky, smiling like a lottery winner.

The door behind her opened slowly. And out came a man dressed as a cook named Saul Lead. He put a revolver to the back of her head and shot her twice. The first bullet made her straighten up like a stiff piece of paper out of the printer; and the second killed her dead. Her body fell like fall leaves with blood gushing from her wounds. Then Saul hurried down the alleyway; grabbing some new clothes left for him in the dumpster. Then he all out sprinted as fast as future jail time could incentivize someone to do. Jen lay there dead, as blood filled the alley like sheep to a field of green (stretching out to every corner) while the rain came down in Hollywood.

“I think I have some news for you, Laron,” Saul said as he adjusted his suit-in a voice thickened and was soar from cigarettes and cocaine abuse-and he gently touched Laron’s shoulder.

“Yes?”

“The goose is golden brown and dinner is served.”

“Good, but I’m not hungry thanks,” Laron replied as if he’d been offered dessert; and he knew Jen had been shot and killed by Saul (he paid him in bottles of whiskey and stolen clothing from Beverly Hills) but he thought she’d earned that award as well. He knew she’d never tell anyone his secrets; or look at him with doe fucking eyes ever again.

Jim sat there on the edge of his seat waiting to see Jen come back in-as did the rest of Hollywood who hoped to hear her talk to the press-but Jim also needed to see Ben win the best actor Oscar (he sat forward and took in a quick breath).

“Let’s go, Ben, three for three,” Jim said hopefully as he looked around for Ben; and he saw him stretching out his arms (this was as close to blowing it as Ben ever got). Jim had a good feeling something great was about to happen, because it was their night.

“Ben, be ready for your moment,” Julie said warmly as she held Ben’s hand tightly to her breast.

“You’ve waited for this,” Julie said as the presenter came out.

Behind Jim-in the darkened doorway-a man walked in; it was Saul again. Saul’s hard features made everyone nervous who saw him; and what he was wearing-a long green suit and gold hat-told them he was nobody. He walked down the aisle past Beth; and Jim saw him out of the corner of his eye (what was that, he thought without looking).

“Who’s that guy I wonder?” Jim asked aloud as if to tell himself something. “Nice suit, Loser,” Jim said as he started to grin, but something about Saul stopped him.

“I think something great is about to happen,” Sil Slank-daughter of the head of NBC-effused quite eloquently with a smile that sold the world bird for breakfast. “The academy award goes to,” Sil said brightly as she fussed with the envelope. Everyone looked at Sil; her hair black as night on the ocean, and

having red full lips. She was wearing a red lace full length gown. She opened the envelope with her tongue sticking out slightly. ” OH my god! It actually happened! Ben Train!”

Ben leaned forward, and Julie wrapped her arms around him. Ben had finally crossed the last step at the top of the stairs, he’d won. He kissed Julie and rocked up to his feet. He shot forward and headed for the stairs. Behind him, Jim saw Saul pull out a revolver.

“What are you trying, Pal?” Jim asked angrily as he leapt out of his seat and ran down the aisle. Saul took a few steps (Jim’s heart racing faster than falling, as he chased him down) and he braced for his shots at Ben.

“Not this year,” Saul muttered coldly, as Jim jumped on his back just as he was pulling the trigger.

The shot hit Sil in the chest; and she fell backwards as a spurt of blood covered Ben and his Oscar.

“Help, I can’t hold him!” Jim yelled frantically as everyone just froze.

Saul kicked Jim in the stomach; and shot him in the left shoulder and then thigh. When he turned to shoot Ben, he was already running for it, with legs once fast now remembered.

“Stop him!” Saul growled angrily as he tried to get a shot at Ben but had none. “Stop that fake banana!” shouted Saul as he fired at Ben while running up the stage steps. Ben hauled ass around the corner; and Beth made her way discretely out of the room.

“GO Ben go!” Ben said quickly as he was sprinting full out; however he slowed to duck into a short hallway. He ran past several people-most in absolute hysterics-and he ducked under a desk. The security guards in the hall met up with Saul-all of them having never fired a gun-and were shot once each in the head (with an ease of a seasoned assassin).

“Where is he?” Saul asked with a tone of desperation. “Where?” repeated Saul angrily, as he shook a hair stylist named Ped-who hadn’t been near a fight since 4th grade-by the shoulders (making him cry a

large stream of embarrassment tears). Ped just looked at him in shock. Saul threw him into the wall and unwittingly ran past the room Ben was in.

Ben got up after seeing this-knowing his window for escape was small-and hurried out into the hallway (making sure he watched Saul run the wrong direction first). Ben made his way out to the front of the stage; and he saw security guards and police flooding into the rows of utter chaos. He ran over to Jim and knelt down beside him.

“Jim, hold on, Buddy, the paramedics are coming,” reassured Ben.

“Ben, what, what would you have said, in your…speech?” Jim asked painfully as he tried to hold onto consciousness (while blood curdled in his throat).

Ben looked at Jim and remembered-what inexplicably he had forgotten in the Malay-he had won the Oscar (hot damn he thought). He looked around-shaking his hand in the air like a circus conductor-and then put his hand on Jim’s stomach. ” Jim, I was going to thank Julie, the whole time. Then at the end I was going to stick it, to you and Jen. I thought you’d think it was funny if I did. We did it, Jim, we all made the show. Keep fighting, Jim, there’s life in you yet,” Ben pleaded as he held Jim’s bloody hand.

Jim howled like an eagle with its wings clipped off; the agony started to tense up all the muscles in his torso. He grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him in close. Jim coughed three times and asked tearfully,”

Where’s my Jenny?”

Ben looked at him dumbfounded; as he had forgotten about her completely until then. Ben rose up like a flagpole and looked around. Ben saw Julie’s crying eyes and he mouthed the word JEN. Julie shook her head no; and then she mouthed the words SHE’S DEAD. Ben didn’t need any further explanation.

“How is she, Ben, how’s she…doing?”

Ben looked around and wasn’t comforted by what he saw: 4 policemen frisking 2 of Saul Lead’s associates, while the other police officers were making damn sure no one left their crime scene. Ben put on a brave face for Jim. He bent down, kneeling now, with his eyes on Jim’s. ” She’s fine, Jim, just fine.

You make it through this and she’ll be there for ya. Just breathe in and breathe out, Buddy. Long life ahead for both of you, that’s the truth.”

Jim smiled through the enormous pain; and he was lifted up onto a gurney by a pair of anti-gravity robot arms. They took Jim away, but as he was leaving the Kodak theater he asked softly,” My Oscar, Ben, where is it?”

The paramedic just held his hand tightly and took him out through the receiving line-faces aghast and crying-where a flying hospital was awaiting him on the street.

Ben looked back at the stage and felt like a hungry man with no money. He made his way up to the podium; and looked out over the near empty room. He lifted his hand and smiled; as the police and paramedics watched him like a puppeteer. The lights on the stage were turned off; and he stood there in a spotlight drinking in his stolen moment. He started crying-harder than if he’d lost-and he mouthed the words to his speech. Julie watched this and she smiled through her tears, clapping all the while. Ben lifted up his Oscar and mouthed the words,” I made it mom.” Then he walked down to Julie and fell into her arms like he was dying.

Chapter 9

All The Best Lies Are True

Jim was in a coma for a solid 2 months before they had to amputate his left leg and arm. Ben went there every single day to sit with him and hold his hand. The room was small; and it only had: the gold bed Jim was lying in, a wall TV with cartoons on (The adventures of Spacehog) and Jim’s, Jen’s, and Ben’s Oscars on the nightstand at the foot of the bed, and a round window facing the downtown L.A.

area.

“Jim, I know it’s hard where you are, I know that better than anyone,” Ben cried as he looked up at Jim’s eyes, still no movement. “I will swear to you, if you can come out of it, THAT COMA. There’s something more here for you, something big. Just open your eyes and we’ll shoot the shit. Huh, a little jerk to jerk conversation, interested?” Ben asked tearfully with his mind searching for the answer from how he was broken from his OWN COMA, but finding nothing. “Come on now, Jim, they told me you can wake up any time you want! If you think you can, you will. Move back from the dreams, embrace the real ones instead, Jim,” Ben insisted tearfully as he held Jim’s right hand; and he sat there watching Jim’s eyes flutter. Ben knew Jim could die at any moment, if he gave up.

Ben got up slowly and kicked the edge of the bed (the gold bed jerking to the side due to Jim’s uneven weight on the right side). And Ben walked over to the window and looked out into the early morning fog (it danced in his memory from the first time he came to Hollywood, and saw it. He thought it was a harbinger of great things to come, but never this). He wished to god he could get Beth back for this-and he swore to himself and to Julie he would do just that-but he didn’t like the idea of prison. He looked down and the sun started shinning up over the buildings like rising stocks of corn. He knew then some dreams were too heavy to hold.

He felt a hand on his leg-jogging a memory loose of getting felt up once as a boy-and he turned to scream; until he saw Jim groggy eyed and smiling at him. ” I don’t need any eggs, you bum,” Jim effused sarcastically forcing his best glumly grin.

“JIM!” Ben cried as he rubbed his own back and then forehead. “Whoa, Man, I am happy you made it out. Thanks for joining the party you dick,” Ben said enthusiastically as he hugged Jim (and never minded the tears he was getting on Jim’s cheek).

Jim smiled-like he’d always smiled when he was on top-but suddenly he realized he was missing his left arm and leg. He turned to that side of the bed and felt around; and then panicked and screamed as loud as dying banshees. He screamed so loud they could hear him 3 floors down.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!!” Jim screamed as he punched the bed. “What happened, GOD?! Aahh my life is over now, done, just done,” Jim cried with every word getting fainter and fainter. He cried dry tears and felt around his left shoulder with his right hand.

Ben stood there with his thoughts racing, as he had no idea what to say to him (thinking he was blowing it again like he’d done many times as a child). He knew anything-and everything on Earth-he did would be a lie. Ben walked around the bed blinking hard and breathing harder. He put his shaky fear filled hand on Jim’s chest and Jim’s eyes tore a hole through his.

“Jim, I’ll take care of you,” Ben urged as he choked up. “Don’t worry, robotic arms have touch sensitivity-” Ben said, but Jim grabbed a cup of apple juice off the table and tossed it over his head before he could finish. “They can do the same things, and look lifelike. No one will EVER, laugh at you, or I’ll fucking kill them. No ONE, Jim, NO one at all!” Ben said sharply after a moment, as Jim punched the wall behind him (his punches broke clean through to the other side). “Now let it all out right here and now. No more sorry for yourself tomorrow. That day’s taken,” Ben demanded sternly as he tried to stop his own tears, but they wouldn’t stop for trying.

Jim hit the bed hard with his right hand; and moaned with a lion’s agony. His eyes caught the 3

Oscars at the foot of the bed, and he froze. Ben looked at him unsure-fearing Jim was about to go completely nuts-as well as wondering why he had stopped. Ben spun around and saw the Oscars and his body froze (her, it was Jen he was going to ask about, he knew it).

“Where is she, Ben, JEN, WHERE?”

Ben used his acting training to not let on she was dead-as he wasn’t going to for a second take away Jim’s only hope, because he knew it would kill Jim-and Ben thought of old triumphs and focused on the emotion. Ben said hollowly” She’s at a photo shoot, she can’t make it for awhile.”

“You’re lying!” Jim barked angrily as he punched Ben in the leg. “I know when someone’s lying to me, Ben. I grew up with scoundrels, every fucking word they say is a lie,” said Jim angrily as he pushed Ben hard. “Is she dead, did he shoot her?” Jim asked defiantly as he tossed his pillow at the window; then glared at Ben like he was going to kill him (and Ben knew he could even without the use of all his limbs).

Ben took a quick glance at Jim; and then the air went out of his lungs-he wasn’t going to lie to him like this, not this way-and he nodded yes. Jim tried to scream, but his vocals cords were too dry and flinched on him. He looked at his missing arm and leg-his thoughts of running down at Santa Monica beach with Jen, crushing him now-and he pointed Ben towards the door and threw a pillow at him.

“Jim, come on now,” begged Ben halfheartedly as he thought what if it were me, then what.

“JUST GET OUT!!” Jim screamed as he pushed Ben away from him. “I won’t be here when you come back. You owe me tha…” Jim demanded as his voice cracked on that, and his lip quivered (and Ben knew he was going to kill himself the second he left).

Ben stood there immobile for a few seconds. Then Jim slapped him hard on the arm-this time harder than before-and Ben looked at Jim like he was already gone. Ben shrugged his shoulders; and walked over and grabbed his Oscar. Ben looked back at Jim one last time, and walked out.

“Damn it!” Ben shouted angrily as he kicked a trash can; and then threw an empty gurney out of his way. He walked down the hall and heard the alarms go off in Jim’s room. After Jim had grabbed Jen’s Oscar off the end of the bed; he pulled the breathing tube and IV drip out of his body, for good. He swiftly went into cardiac arrest as nurses raced to his room; but before they could get there, he used the head of her Oscar to crush in his own throat-by thrusting it through with both hands (he knew there was no saving him then, and he died like he deserved to, on his own terms).

Ben walked down the hall angry beyond belief-he had more than tears to contend with-he knew then he had lost the only true friend he had in the world.

“Are you Ben Train?” Zach Kipo asked timidly-Zach who was a small red haired boy fresh off the bus with his mother Marlene-while Zach offered Ben a sheet of yellow paper (Zach’s report card that year 4 A’s and a B). Zach touched Ben’s hand, and at first he didn’t feel it, but then he looked down and said WHAT DID YOU SAY but didn’t hear his own words.

“What?”

“Are you Ben Train the actor?” Zach asked.

“Not today, Kid,” Ben snapped sharply, as he walked out of the waiting room; and then out into the final few feet of hospital. He saw a trash can to his right; and tossed his Oscar inside without breaking stride. He walked out: got in his limo, and said nothing to Julie then- or ever again-about Jim. Julie knew not to ask, so she buried it away, but she knew Jim was dead the following day after reading the Hollywood Insider. She didn’t ask where Ben was going the day of Jim’s funeral, she already knew.

Half the town came out; said nice things and put flowers on the casket (Ben paid for the funeral. Beth was not invited, but tried to crash it anyway before being removed).

Then Ben spent the next few months working like crazy. He was promoting a new film about a Swedish guitar player-Yars Vindleneck-who goes on to kill his bass player in the middle of a

performance. He knew this was the sort of work that would get him praise, but he wanted that podium and his moment. He thought of winning the Oscar more than a little, which was all the time. And when he got the Oscar nod, he was overjoyed and elated.

Ben sat in a movie theater in Beverly Hills (Trident Cinema) hidden in the back row under a blue trench coat. It was Oscar Sunday; and he was hiding out until it was time to go (he’d gotten nominated without a second of griping from anyone which was rare). He watched the science fiction movie Grip of Easy; and drank beers he had smuggled in using secret pockets in his trench coat.

“God this movie is bad,” Ben muttered as he lurked forward (he half expected the movie to skip to the end about then). “I can’t take this shit, I’m outta here,” Ben growled angrily as he watched a plastic looking alien smash into a moving wall. He got up and ducked out the backdoor, into the alley. He looked up, and saw Paul Jance smiling at him. “Paul,” he said.

Paul was all of 5 foot 4 inches tall and wide at the shoulders like a running back (he detested all sports though, unless he was drunk or high). His hair was white with a streak of black down both sides (made you take a second look if you saw him drive by). He had on a tan fisherman’s jacket; and denim shorts with the words I GAVE HER HALF, HALF MY GRAVESITE, WHAT? that was sewn down his left leg.

“Hey, Ben, funny meeting you here,” Paul said coyly-knowing he was there the whole time, even telling the extras watching the movie to be quiet throughout-and he grinned and watched Ben walk over to him.

“The porno theater was closed today, Paul?”

“Not if you pay in joy juice,” Paul answered with a wink. “Hey aren’t you going to get ready for the Oscar’s tonight?” Paul asked with his shirt bothering him enough to pull it out and then tuck it back in. ”I would if I were you, Ben.”

Ben looked down, his head moving like an elephant’s trunk. Paul walked over and put his hands on Ben’s shoulders, and Ben looked up.

“Yeah…I’ll be there to see it all again,” Ben confessed sadly as he kicked a small rock up against the tan mortar walls of the theater. “Crazy thing though I…,” Ben muttered as he tried to clear his mind of all the thoughts from last year.

“What is?”

“Walking down that aisle,” Ben admitted sadly looking at Paul now. “I watched a friend die there, and another died in the sewage of a hospital while I joked around. They were good people, Paul, better than any of us. You don’t think that bitch Beth will be there do you?” Ben asked as he strolled out of the alley with Paul beside him: Paul had his arm around his waist.

“I don’t know, but probably,” Paul replied with a wry smirk that lit up the world. “She did a hell of a job with that love story. I hate to say that-because she’s the biggest bastard there is-but she did. So don’t count on her missing it. Ya know you might want to play a couple holes of golf to calm your nerves?”

Paul asked coyly, as he motioned to his driver to open the limousine door for them.

Ben walked up to the limo-and was about to get in-when Beth drove by flipping him the bird. She cackled and swerved in and out of several cars in the wrong lane (Ben wished one of them would take her out, but none did, unfortunately).

“Man, that heartless bitch,” Ben said darkly as his eyes went blank to what he was watching.

“Taunting me on the day of the Oscars,” said Ben in disbelief. “Ya know there’s something different about her since it happened. I can’t put my finger on it, but something,” Ben said as he watched Beth driving away-seeing only the worst of her in his mind-as he glared at her. He got into the limo with Paul holding his head; and slid over to the window seat.

“Ah, yeah about that,” Paul said reluctantly.

Ben looked at him with suspicious angry eyes. ” What, Paul?” asked Ben.

Paul squirmed in his seat-unsure if it would be helping anything by telling him the truth-and then looked straight ahead as he saw the driver listening in. Paul leaned forward and closed the window between the front seat, and the back.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but I hear things,” Paul said as he smiled-a smile that meant he loved sticking it to Beth-and he put his arm around Ben. “I heard Beth paid someone to kill you, and Jim got in the way,” Paul said as he looked out the window. Ben sat there looking forward and thinking of bashing Beth’s head in.

“Oh my God, I never would have thought it,” Ben said in disbelief. “I mean, yes it makes perfect sense. That said, what about Jen, Paul?” Ben asked breaking into quick bursts of laughter and coughing; and he grabbed hold of Paul’s arm when he wouldn’t answer him.

Paul pulled out a cigar and lit it. He took two slow drags and offered it to Ben (who he knew didn’t smoke, but he liked corrupting people). ” It was Laron; he killed her because she found out about his secret pleasure chamber. He paid the same man to do it too. Ya know he’s got more than a few people down there in that chamber,” Paul said. “And he doesn’t fancy prison or some tart holding sway over his life. You deserved to know.”

Ben punched the roof of the limo hard twice; and then punched his own palm so hard it left a red dent. He was certain now what had to be done. He said flatly” I’m going to kill them, Paul, both of them.”

“I know, but why bother?” Paul asked, breaking into a spurt of wincing as he did. “Laron’s been good to us both, and he did get you that stage, lest we forget. Now if you wanna go high and mighty, I got some water needs walking on. Otherwise, you say and do nothing. And you get to live another day,”

Paul continued as he sucked away on his cigar. ”And I get to keep a dear friend of mine alive.”

“I tell you what though, I won’t say anything about this,” Ben declared as he sat facing Paul; as he now had his finger pointing at him. “But if you hear Beth was shot, and Laron fell off a bridge,” Ben growled as he tapped Paul on the chest. ”Then maybe you forgive an old friend his payback.”

“Duly noted,” Paul answered with a voice without a hint of conviction, but all the give up in the world. “Well, then why don’t we go wrestle up some drugs? I’m too sober for all this shit,” Paul said as he rubbed his chest-knowing Ben and the things he was capable of-as he mouthed the word OWW and blinked his eyes a few times. He knew there was no point trying to dissuade Ben. And he secretly knew Beth and Laron had it coming to them (for a good long while now).

They drove across town; and they hooked up with a drug dealer operating out of a toy store. Once they had their fuel; they went over to Ben’s and gathered up his tux. Julie was already dressed-sensing the whole world would want to know what she was wearing (being Mrs. Ben Train and all)-and she was ready for the big night.

“Ben, when you win-and you’re GOING TO,” Julie insisted as she fussed with her train. “Will you please mention my mother? She would love it,” Julie said warmly, as she sat cross legged beside Ben on one side of the bed, and Paul on the other.

They took a different route to the ceremony; they hoped to utilize the back entrance. Ben had no desire to work the red carpet tonight. He knew there would be no softball questions waiting for him there; and he really just wanted to avoid Beth. He also knew if they met, he would have a hard time hiding what he now knew about her.

“Ben, nice to see you,” Brent Pettyloop said brightly as he opened the back door; then he let the 3 of them in. Brent was the doorman; and he had a smile that only made you feel like smiling (he had large round white teeth and devious eyes).

“Nice to see you as well, Brent,” Ben replied as he felt his pocket for his pistol-he knew how chaotic things could get and he wasn’t taking any chances (along with the rest of the Hollywood elite, they weren’t trusting luck this year) as he looked and found his red Beretta. “I heard they were having a barbecue here,” Ben continued as he strolled past Brent keeping his eyes forward. ”Are we late?”

“No sir, the ribs are ripe and ready,” Brent exclaimed surprisingly with his smile leading the way.

“Should I get you a glass of wine perhaps?” Brent asked as he ushered them through the kitchen. Ben considered. And as he did the cooks and waiters gave Ben a standing ovation.

“They know, Ben, everyone does,” Julie said proudly, as she smiled and rested her head on Ben’s shoulder.

“Thank you everyone, but I can barely hear you,” Ben said sarcastically as he flashed his brilliant-bought and paid for with talent-smile that warmed the room.

“Ben, they aren’t clapping for you, it’s my suit,” Paul joked as he rubbed the lapel of his suit. “Yes you’re a fine porno actor, but seriously, you’ll never make it in movies, Kid,” Paul said sarcastically as he snatched an oyster off a plate; and then he promptly ate it.

“There’s always condom commercials,” said Ben sarcastically. ” I got 5 years of acting lessons if they call. And they will, I know it.”

They were ushered out into the Lion lounge-named that for the number of orgies that had broken out there over the years-that was for previous winners only. The lounge was covered in red velvet furniture; as well as it had paintings from years gone by. There were several dozen people in the room drunk as a skunk and drinking warm cider. They looked at Ben-showing not even a hint of emotion-and smirked.

This was due in large part, to the fact they had a hunch he was taking home his second (with half the best actor nominees still home debating even coming to the show at this late hour).

“Let’s grab a seat, ya know sit down,” Ben said as he pulled on Julie’s arm. ”If I didn’t know better I’d swear, that was that SKANK Beth over there. Paul, if she comes over here. I’m going to punch her GOOD and HARD.”

“Ben, winners don’t attack other winners,” Paul explained-not even believing himself as he said it-and he tried to keep a straight face. “You have to maintain the standard,” Paul said covering his mouth and smile from Ben’s eyes. “Even if it is only for tonight,” Paul said.

“I can’t make any promises,” Ben declared as he took off his cufflinks (in case Beth got frisky he needed full extension of his fists). “She better WATCH IT or I’ll fuckin’ lose it,” Ben said coldly as he sat back; and Ben eyed Beth through the crowd.

“Why are you mad at her again?” Julie asked.

“Because I heard something, something I can’t talk about here,” Ben spoke as if he was getting ready to talk to someone else. “Trust me, you’ll know by the end of the night,” Ben said as he tried to suppress his anger (even though he could see Beth laughing it up and this enraged him even more).

“So I said, I won’t play trashy and ruin her performance,” Beth said incredulously as she cackled-making the skin on her new neck wrinkle in an odd way-as she threw her head back. “And he believed me, that idiot,” Beth said as she sipped her glass of wine and caressed Gloria’s back. The hangers on, were waiting on her every word with baited breath (and she knew it).

“Did they ever call you back for the Trident role?” Martha Sotle asked coyly with a smile-knowing they had, because she oversaw the casting-and she sat forward and rubbed Beth’s thigh.

Gloria looked at this and her blood started to boil; however Beth was quite enjoying it.

“Yes, but I can’t take boring roles, I won’t,” Beth insisted with a sultry look thrown over to Martha.

“They say it’s not the roles you take that make you, it’s the ones you don’t,” Beth continued as she smiled at Martha. “It’s very true, and it is a hard lesson for the young ones to learn.”

“Like monogamy,” Gloria snapped as she glared at Beth.

“Oh that, that’s for dullards and brain waste,” Beth answered sharply without looking her way (as she knew Gloria was getting too big for her designer britches). “I believe in loving everyone, all the time, Gloria. You knew me when we met, don’t be coy. Anyway, there are far too many boring directors.

They ask the same questions, can you be stronger, angrier, cry more. I mean, where’s the faith?” Beth asked coyly-knowing she was reeling Martha in-and she reached over and rubbed the back of Martha’s head.

Gloria stood there fuming; and then threw her drink at the wall and yelled,” You’re so full of it, Beth! Everything you are is a lie!”

Beth grinned, and then slapped Gloria hard across the mouth. ” You’re nothing but trash, and I don’t like the mess,” Beth said dismissively as she ran her finger down Martha’s thigh. “Run along, Gloria, the bus stop is still open if you hurry.”

Gloria started to cry; and she raised her hand to slap Beth, but she stopped herself. Beth showed her Cheshire cat smile; and then she looked at Martha with bedroom eyes.

“Beth, drop dead you Skank!” Gloria cried angrily as she turned and walked off. Gloria saw Ben looking right at her-unsure what he would think if he knew Beth had tried to kill him-and she smiled at the possibility of telling him. She knew Ben and Beth would be having words-and possibly come to blows later-and that was revenge enough.

“Skank, she’s one to talk!” Beth bellowed, and they all broke out laughing again. “She smells of the gutter and a manure upbringing. When you’re a star, envy is your everyday coffee cup. You get it

everywhere, and you are bothered by none of it. Martha, I sure could use a date for the evening,” Beth said in a sultry voice. ” Should it matter how we met, I say no.”

“I agree, let’s take a walk and get some air,” Martha said then she French kissed Beth for several seconds.

“Oh God, Ben, she’s certainly sealing her fate now,” Paul exclaimed.

“Why do you say that?”

“Gloria is related to the director of Beth’s next film,” Paul explained. “She’ll never get that now, and it will ruin her. Once you’re too old to look young, they put you out to pasture,” Paul said as he sucked on his cigar-aware Gloria’s father would ruin Beth in every possible way-and he watched Beth and Martha coming their way.

“And they stop feeding you if you ask for bread,” Ben answered as he stretched out his right hand (praying Beth would get fresh). “It will be more fun to NOT, get angry with her now,” Ben said as he reclined; carefully watching Beth coming his way through the cracks in the people. ” Why waste the dirt?”

“Yes, Martha, it is hard dealing with all the adoration and money,” Beth admitted as they ambled along arm and arm. “I mean most people can’t keep 5 dollars in their pockets,” Beth spoke using the same platitudes she had to lure Gloria to her. “It’s embarrassing.”

Yes, Ben thought. The walk with a high and mighty gate. I’m better than you get out of my way walk.

Ben had laughed at it the first time he met Beth. He watched how high as a kite she was-and as low as a peasant-in her contrived series of steps.

“Ya know, Paul, I can see all the years of mutual death for each other, in her eyes right now,” Ben remarked contently. ”She hates me, more than any other person in the world. Even more than that hack

director that made her do a hetero love scene. My god what a bastard she is,” Ben said as he clasped his fingers together; and he clapped to get Beth’s attention.

“So I said, I won’t act a shot until I get my caviar,” Beth said as she licked Martha’s lips and that all familiar cackle rose over the noise of the room. “And he caves like they always do, and we went onto make some money on that one. I’m always right, what are you looking at, Martha?” Beth asked in disbelief that anyone would want to do anything other than listen to her talk.

“Beth, it’s that horrible man Ben Train.”

“No, this is for talent back here I-“ Beth eyeing Paul’s and Ben’s content smiling faces “They wouldn’t, oh god, YOU. What the titty bar let out early, Benjamin?” asked Beth as she loosely offered Ben her hand. “I’d thought you for the marrying kind, with those women, dancers, what have you.”

“Bethany, I’m glad to see you doing so well,” Ben replied. “Ya know it pains me to not be working with you. We could…do this war picture I’m in together? If you want,” Ben said hollowly with Paul smiling from ear to ear. Ben knew there was no picture, but he wanted her to think there was-at least the rest of the night-for fun and destruction purposes.

“Ben, I’m a star, that means I’m available for quality,” Beth gushed. “You go ahead and contact my people, and we’ll hash this out. Yes, it would be fun to rekindle the old acting flame. And it is very becoming of you to turn, the other cheek,” Beth said hollowly as she just wanted the role to destroy him again. “I’ll see you after the show, I hope you win, IT…ya know. And all that crap,” Beth said hollowly as she grabbed Martha’s butt-knowing she wanted anyone BUT him to win-and she smiled her getting the job smile.

Ben smiled at this; and he pretended to laugh to himself, but he was really hoping she’d leave so he could laugh in a more boisterous fashion. “Yes, I hope you take home some hardware…stuff,” Ben said.

“Ya know, if you can be bothered,” Ben said hollowly as he looked into the hungry for work eyes of Beth-

those same eyes he had been tortured by for years-and he found a heaven he didn’t know was lurking there.Beth coughed and acted like her voice was getting horse; and then she turned nervously and walked away. Paul cackled at this-once she was safely out of earshot-and asked sarcastically,” Can I direct this one, Ben? Come now, I need the work.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to besmirch you’re good name on a fictional movie,” Ben said as he rose up-knowing the night was off to a great start-and he motioned with his hand for Paul and Julie to do the same. “We might need to grab our seats. I’m assuming the working class heroes are already in there.”

“They are, and it will be a glorious night, Ben,” Paul said honestly as he pulled out a lucky gold coin-the same coin his dying father had given him on his deathbed-and he slid it into Ben’s coat jacket pocket (with Ben none the wiser). ” Just wait and see.”

They walked through a secret passageway; that had naked pictures of all the Oscar winners-going back the whole way-on either side of it. Ben walked with a purpose-he had in the back of his mind death for Beth clunking around like so many loose screws-with his legs charging forward to destiny. They grabbed their seats, and Ben intentionally said very little to anyone. He still blamed them for the loss of Jim and Jen (and they accepted this blame). And as he sat there he knew someday there would be a reckoning.

“Let’s find some stars, they’ve emptied the sky for GOOD!” said Hamton Fisher brightly as he started his opening song and dance routine. He was the host for the night; and was despised for his rapier wit and crude sensibilities. The Oscars loved him for his good looks and charm (appealing to the kids was not a bad thing to have going for you either).

The show went on for awhile-no one minding the campy feel to it-and then a dance troop called The Ray Riders filled the aisles. This startled Ben-his mind remembering Jim and that horrible assassin Saul Lead-and he reached into his pockets. He found the coin Paul had put there; and looked over at Paul-who

was as good at lying as a blind man playing poker-and they both grinned. The Ray Riders were dressed in 1950’s dress; and they had on large purple coats and red pants.

“Boy, Ben, they really go all out these days,” Paul remarked.

“They always did, they just needed a reason to take it farther,” Ben muttered. “For some reason, these performers strike me as odd,” Ben said nervously as he eyed the dancers (finding their routine contrived and unsatisfactory). “Yeah, there’s something not right here.”

“Don’t worry, they’re in the union, it’s cool,” Paul responded as he sucked on his cigar. ”And they come cheap I hear.”

The Ray Riders threw off their coats; revealing they had large red paint filled squirt guns underneath.

They opened fire on the audience; covering the top 1 percent of actors in the world in streams of red paint.

“We gotta move,” Ben said quickly as he shot up and shielded Julie from the paint. He, Paul, and Julie raced to the back of the stage area; as security started beating the SHIT out of the troublemakers.

They started to throw the guns into the crowd-realizing their rouse would mean a beating-and they attempted to escape.

“What the devil, Martha?” Beth cried. ”Don’t they have jobs?”

Martha looked at the dancers and knew they weren’t from Hollywood. Their faces were too hard and leathery to be anything but the underbelly of some dusty Midwest town.

“I think they’re protesters,” Martha uttered with her eyes scanning the room for police. “They don’t seem to be our sort of vetted professionals,” Martha said as the protesters were dragged bloody and screaming from the Kodak Theater. Martha pulled Beth’s hair back-to avoid the paint spray-and said,

“No, they are definitely the criminal type.”

“Yes, they seem too Marlboro and Lottery ticket for my liking,” Beth said with her lips curled.

“Enough already, let’s have our fancy cake. The rabble are only good for stepping on, if you ask me,”

said Beth dismissively as she lifted her nose up (refusing to look at the protesters). ”Even that is losing its luster.”

“We’re fine now, Ben, they took care of it,” Paul assured. “Let’s sit down and grab some history,”

Paul said as he put his arm around Ben, and walked Ben and Julie back to their seats. Ben looked back as a female protester got kicked in the face by a police officer (breaking her nose for the second time tonight). His eyes met hers, and he felt a love for her just then and only then.

The best supporting actor awards were handed out with nepotism winning the day. Howard Stoneman’s son winning for Best Supporting Actor, and Ed Cohey-the famous Austrian actor-had his daughter Page win as well. They did the same predictable trying to be funny, but failing speeches.

Everyone clapped and got ready for the best actress award.

“Martha, oh let Oscar call me friend,” Beth whispered. “I’ve earned it, more than anyone, and that’s something,” she looked forward and closed her eyes as she adjusted her clothes. “It’s what they look for.

Legends are legends for a reason. The committee knows that, they know.”

“The Oscar goes to,” Hamton said smoothly as he opened the letter.” Beth! NO I mean Sicilia Schiavone!”

Beth boiled with anger, and the cameras caught her glaring at Hamton. She pushed the camera out of her face; and kicked the seat in front of her and yelled,” BY GOD you’ll never toy with me again Sunny Jim!” And Beth punched the seat filler in the face as he went to take her seat. ” You’re all losers, every one of you, nothing! You were lucky to suck your way to the top, and that’s IT!” Beth barked with her mascara running. “How dare you, this isn’t the end. Remember who owns the scene, that’s right kiddies, it’s me. Good night and GET FUCKED!” Beth said angrily, head down, as she brushed off

Martha’s hand from her forearm. The whole room broke out laughing; and Sicilia Schiavone moved quickly up to the microphone.

“Well, I wish I had known horrific career ending rants were allowed, because I would have rehearsed,” Sicilia said sarcastically as she kissed her Oscar causing thunderous hilarity (while Beth looked back at her disdainfully). “Is that Beth, on her way to the soup kitchen? My, I almost thought she had won the worst winner in history award, but that’s for working actresses,” Sicilia said snidely as the whole crowd laughed boisterously. They all hated Beth, and every one of them was in on the rouse-and a janitor-except for Ben. They wanted to surprise Ben to help him through his troubles.

“Oh god, Paul, this is awesome,” Ben said happily with laughter dancing in his words. And he watched Beth fighting it out with an usher in the back. Ben looked back and felt a certain exhilaration like none he ever had before. He watched her unraveling and the joyful noise was deafening.

“Watch it, loser, you watch it now!” Beth shrieked as she wrestled a black haired usher named Ten Goultrod. Ten was just as tall as her, and just as strong; and he fought her like she was a man. Beth meanwhile saw him as nothing, and tried to rip his eyes out.

“Beth, stop please!” Martha pleaded frantically, as the other security guards walked slowly towards Beth and Ten. ”He’s not worth it.”

“Miss, the buffet line is outside, and down the street,” Ten chided. “They don’t allow people like you in here,” Ten continued as he got Beth in a headlock and punched her in the eye. “We don’t accept gas cards as currency, please, leave.”

“You horrible wretch!” grunted Beth like a wild mongoose. “You’ll die for this, you’ll die,” Beth declared coldly as she scratched Ten across his cheek. Ten slammed her head into the armrest of her chair (appreciating just how funny this must look to everyone as well). Beth looked up and the seat filler

was smiling at her from her seat. “You can’t do this to TALENT, GIFT! Someone, anyone hand me your pistol, quickly.”

Ben heard this along with everyone else. The clapping and roar of laughter filled the Kodak Theater (and the sidewalk outside). Ben blessed his cufflink; and closed his eyes for a few seconds as he thought of his moment soon to come. They all knew Beth was the one that had made an attempt on Ben’s life; and they knew she had to pay for it too.

“I would like to thank the academy, but someone is getting beat up,” Sicilia said as she grinned and admired her Oscar. ” Well, I guess someone might remember my speech now.”

The entire audience clapped; and Ben stood up to watch Beth getting dragged out of the theater kicking and screaming. Ben watched the last of Beth-her left hand trying to hold onto the door-leave the room and he sat back down with a quick slap of his leg. He was elated already, and to win the Oscar again would bring him to a new level of enjoyment he couldn’t fathom.

“Paul, that’s was well worth the suit,” Ben said as he grabbed Paul’s forearm and gently shook it.

Ben added jokingly,” And the poor penmanship on my seat card, thank you.”

Paul gently looked down at Ben’s knee and could see it shaking; he looked up at Ben and pointed to the stage. Ben looked up and saw Hamton getting ready to announce Best Lead Actor (and his heart nearly stopped). He told himself not to get nervous, (but until you’ve actually sat there you really don’t know how nervous you’ll be).

“O.k. then,” Ben said.

“Alright, another boring Oscar’s,” Hamton joked as he opened the envelope. He stepped back and jumped in the air like a kangaroo (one that was young and agile of course). Everyone watched him intently; all but the supreme talent of Ben Train knowing what name was on that envelope.

“Come on, let me hear it,” Ben begged as he clutched Julie’s hand, and Paul’s wrist.

“BEN, FUCKING, TRAIN!” Hamton yelled excitedly and the room erupted like old faithful.

Ben’s head instantly dropped down-he felt like he was having a living dream-and he kissed Julie on the lips. He slowly got up as Julie embraced him; thinking about that first commercial he did at age 3.

That dove hand soap commercial, that slippery wet bar, he remembered it now.

“Ben, go take some, BACK!” Julie insisted, smiling at Ben like he was the only man in the world.

Ben stood there looking around; and then swept effortlessly up the stairs like a gust of wind. He was handed his 2nd Oscar by Hamton (Hamton crying through his happiness for Ben). ” You’ve taken her out, Ben, rejoice,” said Hamton tearfully.

Ben laughed briefly, and looked down at his Oscar. My, what a beautiful thing to hold, he thought.

He wondered just then how he ever ended up here after all those painful days. The audience sailed with waves of boisterous anticipation.

“Well then, I reserve the right to beat up any usher comes near,” Ben said sarcastically as he fussed with his collar-knowing the significance of standing there TWICE-and his joke had the house roaring like a war siren. ”And to pummel the host, once or twice,” Ben felt completely composed. “Let us not forget, my uncalled for rants that will alienate us all forever are coming. And finally I call dibs on street corner 8, box nine, as I begin my new career as a homeless person. Goodnight ACADEMY!” Ben yelled triumphantly as his catlike eyes filled with tears of joy-as he remembered Jim and Jen and the loss of their amazing friendship-he was justifiably taken aback.

Paul and Julie headed for the backstage area, as Ben stood there center stage smiling like he was 6

years old again, and winning the Pop Warner Bros actor’s only football game. He had never felt warmth so encompassing, as the blazing flames washed over his memories, just then.

Ben turned like a dancer and walked backstage; all the while trying to calm himself down but losing that war miserably. He turned the corner; and saw Paul and Julie standing in a large crowd of actors that were facing him. They shouted and cheered him like he was the President on Election Day.

“I know, I’m the greatest,” Ben said with his legs moving like they were made of rubber. “You don’t have to cheer me, it’s assumed,” Ben said as he walked over and hugged Julie. ”Well the old man did one thing right in this life.”

“You did them all, Handsome,” Julie wiped the tear from his eye and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go finish this off and go dancing,” Julie said softly. “Wouldn’t you love to cut a new rug?’

“Of course I will,” Ben confirmed. “In fact I’ll have the wine waiting for us when we get there.”

“Nice win, Ben, you made it,” Paul said smiling like a man after having his first child. ”They can knock us down, but the world will always need merrymakers.”

“Don’t believe everything you read on bubblegum wrappers, Paul,” Ben said as he rubbed Paul’s shoulder with his Oscar.

Upon leaving the ceremony, they found themselves dancing and drinking the night away. When the last call came it was just Ben and Julie on the dance floor. The room was loud, and filled with drunk hangers on and half-asleep sycophants. Ben looked at Julie like they’d just fallen in love. Ben admitted,”

There was no one else but you, Julie.”

“I know that,” Julie said tearfully with her hands grabbing Ben’s ass. “And I want to thank you for that, for the rest of my life,” Julie confirmed as she danced Ben over to the exit.

“So it’s what we always wanted now right?” Ben asked exchanging a wink with Julie. Ben thought about taking her around the globe and seeing it all.

“Ha hah, I wouldn’t ask, but I was thinking about it,” Julie confessed playfully as she rubbed his crotch.

“I’ve thought of nothing but,” Ben said in a contemplative voice. “Let’s grab our shit and fly out tonight,” said Ben exuberantly with his hand caressing both her cheeks. ”But, there’s one last thing I’ve got to do first. Won’t take but a morning,” said Ben coyly.

They flew home in the limo and Ben made a few inquiries about the plan. He sat back in his rocking chair-feeling like he’d eaten all the pie in the world-and turned on the cameras in his crew’s glasses.

Beth and Martha had been making love all night-Beth turning to angry sex to rejuvenate her ego as she needed to feel better anyway she could (after last night’s debacle)-and they climaxed together.

“You are one hell of a lover, Martha,” Beth said delicately. “One mountain of a friend too, I mean that.”

“I love you, Beth, I always have since Shadow Thief,” Martha confessed hesitantly as she kissed Beth around the face. “And I always will.”

“You’re the greatest, a talent most high!” Beth said enthusiastically as she jumped up and down holding Martha’s shoulders. Beth loved newness and often sought out relationship destruction to serve that end. She couldn’t get herself bogged down in forever; or her career might suffer. She looked at Martha; and she gave her the same lying eyes she always had to new lovers.

“That is wonderful, simply wonderful,” Martha insisted as she went to kiss Beth, but suddenly there was a loud knocking on the front door.

“Who the hell is bothering me this morning?” Beth demanded as she reached over and picked up a steel baseball bat with the words TIME IS BETTER WHEN IT’S OVER, painted on it.

“Be careful-“began Martha, but Beth interrupted her by loudly clearing her throat.

Beth undid the clanking locks, and opened the door gingerly. Her eyes looked up and down the Latino man at her door-she despised any immigrant telling her what for, seeing as she was born and raised here-and he was holding a red box marked present. “What is it you idiot?”

“Ah, it’s Juan, and I have the script signor Ben Train had talked to you about,” Juan said decisively, as he offered her the box like you would a piece of chocolate cake.

Beth looked at Juan with suspicious eyes; she didn’t know what this was, but she was skeptical all the while.

“Fine then, let me have it,” Beth snapped sharply as she fingered the sides of the cover like it was made of wood-hoping to show old Juan she could take him if need be-and she had to press hard to get it to open. She looked inside and saw a script titled Go Fuck Yourself Beth. ” What is the meaning of this?” Beth asked angrily-half wanting to go toe to toe with old Juan-while the redness of her cheeks oozed out like red paint.

Juan smiled and said coldly,” It’s the role that will get you back on top.”

“How so, Wetback?” asked Beth flatly.

“Because, it’s to die for,” Juan declared as he pulled a magnum 57 from his waistband-Beth’s mind crippled and terrified-and he aimed it at Beth. She froze for a second, and put her hands up instinctively.

“Please God no, NOT NOW!” Beth pleaded like a lightning crash of sound. Juan walked right up to her and put the cold steel barrel of the gun to her temple.

“There’s a fruit cup where you’re headed, so enjoy,” Juan using a cocky British accent and a smile that made Beth cringe. He shot Beth in the neck causing her to fall back onto a glass table (shattering it and cutting her back in several spots). A moment later he was in the house shooting the gasping Beth in the stomach 4 times.

“What was that noise, Beth?” Martha cried timidly as she walked into the living room.

Beth looked over with blood dripping down her chest-fearing the end-and it sent Martha into shock.

Juan fired off 2 shots into the head and shoulder of Martha, killing her where she stood.

“Ladies, it’s a fine morning for a drive, how ‘bout it?” Juan urged snidely as he walked over to Beth and put the gun to her temple.

“Please, I’ll pay…YOU, WET-!”

“No thanks, they don’t accept underwear as currency in heaven,” Juan said then he shot Beth 5 times in the head killing her. He quickly moved out the front door; and waved in a crew of 10 men (who were wearing plastic suits). They carried in a plastic square of paper; and rolled Beth and Martha onto it. They quickly sealed the plastic; and threw it into a trailer truck outside that had a massive mobile incinerator in the back. The bodies were turned into ash and dust within minutes with intense flames.

They ripped up the carpets; and tore off any section of wallpaper that had blood on it. They took out any furniture that had blood on it; and replaced everything with a new equivalent (matching her décor perfectly). Juan touched his implant and let out a deep breath.

“Ben, it’s all clean in the parking garage,” Juan said with a youthful giddiness in his voice, as he used his temple implant to talk to Ben.

“Then it’s time to grab the car and go, thanks again, Juan,” Ben continued as he laughed,” Shame things didn’t go haywire, would have been nice, Juan. I’ll catch up with you later, My Friend, much later that is.”

“You got it, Ben!”

Laron sat inside his mansion with naked men sitting reluctantly around his table. He heard someone whistling outside and it irked him; like bird shit on your head at a ballgame.

“What is that DAMN whistling?” Laron demanded angrily. “I’ll sue his ass,” said Laron as he got up and went to the window. He looked down and a blonde haired man in a green sweat suit and blue hat, named Pete Rick, was kicking his driveway up using black cowboy boots. “Hey get the hell out of here!

I’ll crack that head of yours if you want!” yelled Laron sharply as he glared at Pete.

Pete looked up and smiled a not at home smile. Laron looked at him-and wanted him dead like so many before-but Pete pulled out a revolver and shot Laron in the chest. Laron fell clumsily like a heavy sack of old bread into a raging river in the courtyard below. He died when he hit the ground; and Pete disappeared into the woods where a crotch rocket was waiting for him. Pete hopped on and sped away through Nathan’s garden (Nathan didn’t mind to say the least).

Ben heard about his revenge on Laron during his flight to Madagascar (and boy did he smile). Ben went onto to win the Oscar the next 5 years (called the Sympathy Parade Oscars). He knew it was because they all felt horrible for what had happened to him. He didn’t really mind, he liked the fact they had to lift him up to that stage all those many times (even if he didn’t attend the ceremony again).

At 124 years old, he and Julie made a pact if either died they would go as well.

“Julie darling, would you like some lemonade?” Ben inquired as he kissed her left hand.

Julie sat there with her mouth wide open-a sight Ben had seen many times before due to the medication she was on-and she had spit running down her chin. She was near death and barely aware where she was anymore.

“No, Dear Ben, I won’t need a drop more,” Julie mumbled slowly as she searched for her words painfully. Julie asked, “Maybe a song, Ben, or a joke?”

“I heard a joke once, it went as such,” Ben said. “They asked a rich man once what would you give up, if you had to. And his reply was, talking to you,” Ben said jokingly, causing Julie to laugh hard-a

sight he’d been missing for some time-and then she dropped dead on the spot. Ben looked at her and checked to see if she was breathing, and she was not.

Ben sat with her on their deck after she had passed away, for several hours. He thought of a thing his father had said to him when they were still on speaking terms,” It’s not the fear of death that defines us.

It’s the day we no longer fear dying, that will define us all for eternity.”

THE END

Other Titles by John T. Buckley