Chuck Palahniuk - Tell All

The fornicating pair continue to couple. Jimmy Durantesteps up to the microphone,blindfolded, and sings “ Sentimental Journey.”

“ ‘In keeping with my planned tribute,’ ”reads the voice-over of Terrence Terry, “ ‘atthe instant of Katherine’s bucking, clenching petitemort , various steaming rivulets of her feminine juices cascadingdown each of her sculpted thighs, upon that crescendo of passion, theassortment of floodlights which bathe the apex of the tower wereactivated by an unseen hand. The searing light which broke upon us,rather than being the usual white hue, shone tonight in the exact sameshade as Katherine’s insanely violet eyes.…’ ”

The pair step apart and begin absently wipingat their sopping groins, using dinner napkins they then wad and drop.Similarly soiled linen napkins litter the rooftop as the pair continuemopping themselves with the hanging hem of the white tablecloth.

“‘Within moments,’ ” reads Terry, “ ‘we’dsevered our fleshy bond and sat dressed impeccably in evening finery,enjoying an elegant flavorful repast of roasted squab served on Limogeschina alongside cooked carrots and garlic,double-stuffed baked potatoes or the option of a small dinner salad withranch dressing or rice pilaf.

“‘ “Webster,” said Katherine, “youstupendously virile male animal, this majestic tower is your onlyphallic rival in the world.” Adding with a lascivious grin, “And I’dgladly climb a million steps to sit atop both.…” ’ ”

In contrast with the ripe voice-over, thedreamy, idealized Miss Kathie and Webster merely devour the foodquickly, swilling wine, their cutlery clattering against their plates,swallowing so quickly their belches threaten to overwhelm the singing.With greasy fingers they gnaw the tiny squab carcasses, spitting thechewed bones from their mouths toward the street far below. Theblindfolded waiters stagger about.

Despite such louche behavior, the voice of Terrence Terrycontinues reading, oblivious, “‘Even now as Katherine and I stood and strode to the tower’s loftyparapet, preparing to raise our glasses in a champagne toast to this,the world’s most glamorous city, countless lesser mortals dwelt at ourfeet, unaware of the bliss which existed so far above their heads.Somewhere below wandered Elia Kazan, Arthur Treacherand Anne Baxter, each in their own limitedexistence. Down there drifted William Koenig, RudyVallee, and Gracie Allen, no doubtimagining they lived lives of rich fulfillment. But no, if Mary Miles Minter, Leslie Howardand Billy Bitzerwere indeed so wise and aware then theywould’ve been us.’ ”

The idealized man and woman shove themselvesaway from the dinner table, grab their drinks and lurch to thebuilding’s edge.

“ ‘In hindsight,’ ” says the voice-over, “‘perhaps we too were blinded by our supreme happiness. “Oh, Katherine,” Idistinctly recall saying, “I do so love, love, love you!” Communicating this sentiment not merely with my probing lovepipe, but also my mouth. If I dare say it—with my very life’s breath,every word comingled with the lingering aftertaste of her saucynethers.…’ ”

The star-filtered, stylized version of MissKathie tosses back the last of her champagne and hands the empty glassto the idealized Webster. Even as the blindfolded musicians continue tosaw away on their violins, the Webster substitute checks his wristwatchand yawns, patting his open mouth with the palm of one hand.

“ ‘During that blazing violet moment of oursplendorous adoration,’ ” reads the voice-over, “ ‘Katherine’s elegantlyshod foot skidded against a leftover layer of our spent passion. Inthat infamous moment, mankind’s most dazzling star fell, a flashing,shrieking Halley’s Comethurtling to thebustling sidewalks of West Thirty-fourth Street.’ ”

The Katherine stand-in shrugs her perfectshoulders in resignation. She kicks off both her high-heeled shoes,climbs the guardrail and swan-dives into the abyss. The idealizedWebster stand-in watches her plunge; then he stoops to collect herdiscarded high heels and flings them after her.

Terry’s voice reads, “ ‘The end.’ ”

Forgive me, please, but I must violate thefourth wall once more. Even as Miss Kathie dodges and parries theattempts on her life, a curious reversal appears to be taking place. Theconstant threat of violent death sculpts KatherineKentondown to tensed muscle. The perennial threat of poisoningdeadens her appetite, and the need to be continually vigilant deters herfrom indulging in pills and alcohol. Under such strain, her spine hasstiffened with resolve. Her carriage stands erect, her stomach ishollowed, and she carries herself with the bravado of a soldieradvancing onto a field of battle. The presence of death, alwayshaunting, always at hand, has awakened a sense of vibrant life withinher. Roses bloom in the cheeks of my Miss Kathie. Her violet eyessparkle, alert for sudden danger.

More than all the plastic surgeries and allthe cosmetics in existence, the terror of her imminent destruction hasbrought Miss Kathie back to glowing, youthful life.

In contrast, WebsterCarlton Westward III, once so young and ideal, now appearshaggard, wounded, battle-scarred, his handsome face strafed withwrinkles … scratches … stitches. The Webb specimen’s dense hair shedsitself in daily strands and clumps. Thwarted at each turn, he adopts thewhipped demeanor of a cowering dog.

Still he perseveres, whatever his motives, toendear himself with my Miss Kathie. Always there’s the chance of anassassination plot we haven’t previewed, and Miss Kathie must forever beon guard. Once, in her heightened wariness, she pushed young Websterdown a flight of stairs near the Bethesda Fountain,and he still staggers with a limp, a steel pin surgically embedded toheal his shattered ankle. On another occasion, at theRussian Tea Roomwhen she misjudged a quick movement of his aspossibly malevolent, she lanced his arm with a steak knife in preemptiveself- defense. Another time, she pushed him from a subway platform. Hisall-American face looks livid and swollen from the burns caused whenMiss Kathie assaulted him with a flaming bananasFoster. His bright brown eyes are dull and bloodshot from aprophylactic blast of Miss Kathie’s mace.

Thus the reversal: as Miss Kathie becomesmore vital and vibrant, the Webster specimen falls into increasingdecrepitude. A stranger, meeting the pair for the first time, would behard-pressed to name the younger and the older. With her haughtyexpression, it’s difficult to decide which Miss Kathie finds moredisgusting: Webster’s apparent plots to murder her, or his decliningphysical virility.

And with every scar and burn and scratch,this defaced Webster specimen looks more like the monster I warned MissKathie against.

In a hard transition, we cut back to finaldress rehearsal for the new Broadwayshow, atthe moment the music is peaking with the voices of the entire castsinging, while Miss Kathie raises the American flag on Iwo Jima, assisted by Jack Webband Akim Tamiroff. A FlorenzZiegfeldchorus line of Mack Sennettbeauties gotten up as imperial Japanese airmen in low-cut, peekaboocostumes by Edith Headlink arms and executeprecision high kicks which expose their fascist buttocks. The spectaclefills a medium shot, busy with motion, color and music, until the shotpulls back to reveal the audience seats are—once more—almost all vacant.