Peter Pišťanek - The End of Freddy

“Urban!” he said not without a certain feeling of joy.

Video Urban had been the one money-changer outside the Hotel Ambassador who never looked down on Freddy and never made fun of him. He always talked to Freddy as an equal. Freddy sees Urban, despite the years they have not seen each other, as something of a friend. Which is why Freddy was almost moved to see him.

“Yes, I’m happy,” boasted Piggybank, when they came to the bar and Urban asked him the obligatory question.

Freddy has a completely free hand. Nobody forces him to do anything. Sometimes he shoots a really avant-garde film: pissing, rubber, latex, spanking, and bondage. He can get away with anything.

“Sometimes creative freedom is even more important than money,” concluded Freddy with an old avant-gardist’s expression, but his face showed a certain degree of resignation. In short, he was resigned to the realisation that fulfilling all his perverted desires and getting really well paid for it, too, was an unattainable luxury in his life. To be able to move in the seductive world of the porn business and to have some of its glitter sprinkled on him was in itself sufficient reward for Freddy. It was almost like a dream come true to have the chance to meet porn stars over whose pictures in the grimy and wrinkled pages of the porn magazines he only recently used to masturbate in the lavatory.

Urban did not even understand all the foreign words that burbled with such relish through Freddy’s fleshy lips. What he did understand was that Freddy’s talent and perverted imagination could bring great wealth to anyone who exploited him and offered him better conditions than the stupid, greedy Danes. Clearly, in his field Freddy was a real star who needed a little more motivating to show all his brilliance.

“You can have creative freedom and not be screwed, money-wise, at the same time,” he told Piggybank.

Had Freddy thought of going independent? Urban could put up the capital; Freddy would bring his ideas and talent. They’d set up their own company. Wouldn’t Freddy like to have his own firm, his own business?

Freddy started to pay attention.

“Porn is on the up today,” Urban continued. “People go for it. You only have to read the papers.”

Why shouldn’t the two of them cash in on it? Why not get rich?

Freddy went red with excitement. He motioned to the bar girl and ordered two glasses of beer. Urban couldn’t believe his eyes. The last time he saw Freddy pay was in Rivers of Babylon , just after the fat man went mad, before wrecking the whole bar and becoming, for a time, the hermit of the car park by the Hotel Ambassador. Even though beer was the cheapest item at the bar, it was, nevertheless, a noteworthy act. Urban grasped that his offer had interested and excited Freddy.

“Did you say ‘cash in’?” Freddy was intrigued. “Cash in?”

Oh, Freddy’d love to!

After half an hour’s conversation and another two glasses of beer, ordered, of course, by Urban, they had a deal. They would set up a limited company. They’d produce their own porn films.

Freddy knew what the public wanted.

“Men screwing women don’t interest anyone now,” he said sceptically. “Not even if five men screw one woman. Or if one man screws five women. Not even if they do it in a Rolls Royce, a castle, or a bathroom. Not if they screw under water or in the air. Maybe in a lavatory might work: that’s people for you. Nobody’s interested even in blacks. Not even in ones with long pricks.” Freddy hopes Urban understands. “Black and Asian women are passé, too. Shaved cunts don’t sell, either. Every other sixteen-year-old sunbathing at Golden Sands has a shaved pussy under her costume. People want things they lack courage for themselves. Anal, whipping, enemas, pissing, shitting, bondage, old whores, violence, torture, children, animals, live killing. That’s today’s world.” Urban needn’t stare at him like that: Freddy didn’t invent this world.

Freddy greedily sips his beer and licks the foam off his moustache.

Urban should realise that men may think up the filth, but women are always keen to join in. Urban should note that all, even the most outrageous and perverse filth invented by a man always finds willing and enthusiastic female protagonists. “It’s in the female character. If a man couldn’t find a woman who’d let someone piss on her breasts and crotch, then he wouldn’t think up a film where a woman lets someone piss on her breasts and crotch; that’s pretty obvious. If a man couldn’t find a woman to suck off an eight-year-old boy or let herself be penetrated by a pit-bull terrier, then it simply couldn’t be done, and that’s all there is to it. This is a basic law of the porn industry: you’ll always find a beautiful woman willing to collaborate with anything.”

Freddy waved his arms about contemptuously and had a drink.

“Of course, films like that will never be shown here,” he continues. “They only have routine stuff here. Maybe a bit of sado-maso and preggo, but that’s it.”

Piggybank was licking his lips, even his cheeks, as he pontificated.

Urban couldn’t understand it. A long time ago he used to enjoy having two partners, Wanda and Eva, in bed at home, but it never occurred to him to tie them down, whip them, or give them an enema. Anyway, they both ran away from him when they got a chance to go to Australia. Perhaps that’s why they ran away, Urban reflected.

Urban trusted Freddy completely. He knew that, whatever else Freddy might be, he was a pro and knew what he was talking about.

Freddy was so excited by their meeting and by the new prospects opening up, that, to Urban’s surprise, he paid the whole bill.

That evening they went to celebrate their meeting at Urban’s favourite restaurant, the nearby Domažlice Room , a stylish place with old Czech cuisine and a well-stocked cellar of Moravian wines. A pleasant dinner in the company of two hostesses from Sex-O-Rama turned into an endless pub crawl across Prague. After midnight they lost both women, who were picked up by some Yanks in an Irish pub in Malá Strana.

Now they were sitting in a garden café by the Charles Bridge, seeing who could drink more tequila. Freddy never liked Prague as much as Urban, but for a man with a full wallet any city is beautiful. He watched the lights of pleasure boats going up and down the Vltava and felt wonderful. He prudently decided to let Video Urban briefly tell his own story; they could then get back to Freddy’s life, which Freddy thought more important, interesting, and fascinating than anyone else’s.

Urban’s story had to be squeezed out drop by drop. He had to down two more tequilas to get it out. He distributes videos for a Czech firm. They keep him on a tight leash and he can’t slip his lead. Moreover, by sheer accident he’s discovered that the director of the firm, a repulsive Czech faggot called Hojer, is plotting behind his back to set up a Slovak branch. Without Urban. Hojer found a traitor in Urban’s firm, his business manager Ján Teľacina. Maybe he likes him: Ján is a handsome boy who would do anything to advance his career, including offering Hojer his arse. The problem is, he’s also infinitely stupid. In a well-fitting suit and tie he does look impressive, but, actually, he’s just a car mechanic. Of course, a trained car mechanic also has a chance, Urban believes, to do something with his life. The problem is that Hojer needs Teľacina merely as a slave to betray Urban and clear the ground for Hojer, in a mistaken hope that the latter will promote him to manager of the new branch. This is just Teľacina’s illusion, fostered by Hojer. Once it’s all set up, a Hojer man from Prague will get the manager’s job and Teľacina will go on in the business department working as a slave. But Teľacina doesn’t know this. Just as Hojer doesn’t know that Teľacina is a heroin addict. He even got the engineer Zdutá, who does the accounts, onto heroin, and she left her husband because of Teľacina. It’s got so bad with them that they sometimes shoot up during the day in the lavatory. When Urban gets back from Prague, he’ll fire them both for breach of trust. There’s no law to stop him firing a pair of addicts whose next trick will be nicking videos in the warehouse. Yes, those two filthy toe-rags will be out on their necks. He won’t keep them on, even if they get a doctor to say that they’re clean. They’ve betrayed him, after all. If Urban succeeds in the venture with Freddy, he’ll cancel his partnership with Hojer. Someone else can distribute his kitsch in Slovakia.