Bruce Wagner - Dead Stars

At her mom’s prodding, Aleisha haltingly begins to rehearse Smile. Telma makes sure to trample over the 1st few maudlin lyrics by announcing, “I’m going exploring!” then stomping out the door. Phoebe and Gwen exchange looks, then Phoebe goes after her. Gwen stays in the room, shrugging her shoulders, flashing Melanie a contrite Sorry, what can I do it’s hormones smile. When the truth is, that Gwen ’ s (really) the only one forcing a smile while her heart is breaking.

. .

Rikki and Jerzy got to the hotel early.

Being it’s a fundraiser for kids with cancer, he counted on a lot of underage lets showing up — Jerzy was there exclusively for private reserve honeyshot! s. All day long he nonsensically sang Some people call me the spaced cowboy/Some people call me the gangbang of Love—— Rikki asked Jerzy why he didn’t use a videocamera because like Tom-Tom said he could just shoot & isolate whatever frames had the beavercleaver. Jerzy said, cause I’m oldschool, my friend. Matter of pride. Better to set the beaver trap by hand harharhar then 2 in the bush harharhar.. . . . . . . . you’re the cutest thing I ever did see I really love your peaches want to shake your tree. . . . . . ….

While Jerzy does his spiderazzi thing at the hotel entrance w/all the other papps — as ordinary-unknown richfolk filler /VIPs/celebs are just beginning to arrive — Rikki sits in the Hilton lobby with a stolen Kindlefire, pretending he’s, uhm, like a hotel guest yeah right. They smoked crack in the parking garage, toked some Don King & gummy bear too, he’s blazed. Rikki contemplates the rumor he heard that current management was renting out the Whitney suite to billionaire Macao gambling-type Japs and sand niggers for a million a night, the tub she took a shit in and drowned was still there, everything laid out like a museum, crack pipe and personal effexors they got back from the LAPD evidence room, wallet pics of her little girl, all her stained lingerie, you could get loaded and fuck a loved one right in the tub. That’s some morbid shit. He goes on www.lobsterporn.com, already super spackled-m’gackled & superhard from the meth&roxies, bolus of beef jerky in his cheek like chewing tobacco… CATEGORIES A-Z: innocent teen/saggy tits/asian schoolgirl/doctor molest/daughter destruction/upskirt tampon/squirt/small tits/extreme taboo/by force/granny mature/dildoes insertions/small tits/farmyard/outside/voyeur/daughter sleeping/massage/schoolgirl med exam/monster cocks/tittyfuck/hentai/mother daughter incest (simulated). He clicked on Jewish then Turkish but his heart wasn’t in it. Suddenly the volume went CRAZY LOUD, he must have unmuted by accident, it’s making all these cum sounds, a lady hears as she walks by & frowns Rikki still fumbling trying to MUTE which he finally does. (He’d have to remember to tell T 2, she would crack the fuck up. ) Now there’s a little pop-up onscreen from bi_the_way432. Probably some automated drone shit tracking his location, he didn’t know how to turn that shit off on this device, fuck the Navy seals, dude, they should’ve used the porn guys to go after Osama woulda nailed him right away shoulda sicced em on Kaddafi too. The female drone wrote: OMG are you in beverly hills? 5 seconds later: im a mile away. 10 secs later: innertube.com is the best site for free porn fyi! 30 secs: you realize im talking to you right? 1 whole fucking minute later: it’s not polite to ignore a lady. Last (automated) gasp— Age: 18. Sexual pref: bi. Zodiac: scorpio. ethnicity: American Indian. Pubic hair: bald —Rikki said mother FUCK that surveillance shit. Oops. Now a banner’s crawling across the top

MEET SOMEONE TO FUCK NOW!

Turns it off.

Rikki just sits there, spackle/staring into the borrowed lobby of a place he doesn’t (even temporarily) belong. People coming & going, with glam lives, lives that aren’t fucked. He’s still freaking about the baby, about being a dad, but really now just mostly freaking about the $$$ more, even Jerzy can’t get Tom-Tom to chill on the rent shit, he won’t front his sis any money either, you’d think J could at least get Tom-Tom to chill until Ree has the kid, then they’ll be out in a flash, straight from the hospital to his fosterfolks, she’ll be too wasted giving birth to put up a fight. She’s like due in like five weeks, dude, the minute she goes to the hosp that’ll be the fucking last Tom-Tom sees or hears of her . . . . . . . spackle m’gackled————

————maybe robbery? Thinking about that again, mostly because he watched The Town for the 6th time, loved that fuckin movie, never got a chance — made the time though — to speak with Tom-Tom about the whole crew-heist deal. . his thoughts now becoming fantasies as Rikki tries to squelch all the bad vudu in his head, he starts to trip but in a good way about Jim and Dawn, about finally being their real son before God & the law, thinks his dad would maybe convert the garage into a guesthouse for them and the baby, maybe one of those Extreme Makeover Home Edition dillios like ReeRee joked about Betty White’s, you know where a couple of trucks show up with a 50-man crew — now that’s a fuckin righteous crew— & they build a whole house , with towel-warmers like Ree told him once that she wanted, & ambient heated bathroom tiles like he heard Tom-Tom say she was gonna have, Tom-Tom said Bill Gates had a heated driveway so the snow would melt. Rikki trips on hanging out in his new home— their new home — right there on Jim and Dawn’s property. Jim & Dawn could babysit & shit if him and Ree wanted to go clubbin & candyflipin.

But ReeRee won’t, EVER. .

You’re way too stubborn, dude.

. .

Jerzy knows he’s strung out way beyond the point he usually puts down, hearing voices of race war/rap though sometimes the voices lead him to breakthrus too, like how L.A. Reid’s hard lacquered bodyshell sleeps in the sensuous recesses of Randy Jackson’s arthropod flesh, so the voices cannot be discounted nor dismissed out of hand. Miasma & background Muzak of the Uncivil War between hummingbirds & mantises. Trying to formulate a grand theory to explain the rôle that hummingbirds & mantises will play, a overarching theory of General Relativity that explains and describes the exact connect between what historians one day will surely come to call The Puppetmathers/Iovine Wars—& the pact or formal agreement secured by the demiurge between mantis and hummingbird .

The insidious thing is Jerzy realizes he’s in the nightbloom of amphetamine psychosis but powerless to stop its militancy; trapped inside an acrostic gnostic boardgame. He laughs, glad to at least be able to watch himself laugh cackle! Cackle! m’gackle! when the epiphany flashes there are messages written on each Chloë/Elle/Hailee pantyshield, it’s up to him to capture the images , no other way but a captcha to string the codewords together. . & flashes too that Harry around the Middleburg is a CAA operative close to breaking the code stitched or drawn by persons unknown & made visible only by virtue of the honeyshot! s, that Harry’s website is a brilliant distraction, a throwing off of scent. And yet what does this have to do with mantises & hummingbirds, what does this have to do with Suge, what does this have to do with I–Veen & the Puppetmathers it must have something there must be something