Bruce Wagner - Dead Stars

T 2had them over a barrel. Bolt asked for $7,500 like she told him to but they wouldn’t budge from the 5. Bolt probably betrayed her, bothsides-playing punkbitch that he was, probably just told them he knew she needed the bread & would do it for 5. Now it was payback time. When Tom-Tom said she was Rikki’s manager & puttin him in the show would cost a thousand for client services , they seriously balked. They gave her the evil don’t-fuck-with-us-lady eye but she knew that if they wanted to keep Chippy D in chapstix they would have to deliver. Montana looked none too pleased with these asshole-producers from the get-go, Rikki told her that, he said Chippy was cool, if you’ll notice she never talks to the fuckers she just texts em, so when Tom-Tom saw Missy Montana Fishsmellrugburn workin her android with that anvil face she knew some shit was goin down about the producers tellin her they didn’t want to buy Rikki for a g, Tom-Tom would have loved to read that text, her money was on mons- tana from the gate, wish I could eavesdrop, love to be a fly on the wall of that pussy join the crowd or should I say swarm tee hee. Montana was anvilface retexting, like maybe she was saying You wouldn’t pull this shit with Kim Kardashian and Sasha Grey , after all she was still Larry Fishburne’s daughter, she had diva dna, no matter how humble her upbringing or how far the fall, it would have been impossible not to grow up without a sense of xxxxtreme entitlement.

Bolt came & talked to the double T about the whole Rikki deal. Perfect. She knew he’d pussy out. Bolt was one of these man hookers who didn’t have the stomach for conflict but she knew he probably already got a $1,000 finder’s fee for the house, or maybe they did come up to seventy-five hundred & he fuckin pocketed it… Just a gigolo was fucking wearing out his welcome. Tom-Tom would have evicted him if she wasn’t having trouble getting loosers to sign on, just when she thought she’d signed some up they never showed, & besides, Bolt had a few plusses, aside from being generally telegenic, his cock was fat as a can of Coke Zero. Cock Zero hahahaha new nickname tee hee. Right when Bolt began his predictable-ass limpdick supplication not to make waves, she looked at him with irritation & said “Outta my face, bee-atch.” From the corner of her eye, Tom-Tom caught cameraman Seth sniggering like he was glad somebody took a wrench to jigabolt. She’d dug him on first sight, & Seth being simpatico bode well for the Daydream Believers shoot.

Montana came through just like she thought. When they grudge-gave her the envelope of cash, Tom-Tom made herself scarce for a while to give em a little time to untwist their panties. Tee hee…

She strolled over to the poolhouse, singing

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean

O

what can it

mean

Dr Phil popped up, out of nowhere. He wanted to talk about doing an intervention on Jerzy for the show.

“What people won’t expect is me turning to Rikki at the end, after Jerzy agrees to go in for treatment ( hopefully! ), & saying, ‘It’s all taken care of, my young friend — you’re going in too.’”

. .

“I was almost in one of your dad’s movies.”

“Really? Which one?”

“The Treasure of Sierra Leone.”

“Really?”

“Do you & your dad talk about his movies?”

“We used to. Well, we still sort of, but it’s more in my head because right now we’re not really talking too much. I like to keep up with him, things he’s doing, on the internet — tho sometimes he’s hard to keep up with!”

Rikki was way high & feeling uncomfortable in his skin. It prolly was the four beans Tom-Tom gave him, he kept seeing this gold fringe shimmering in the air next to her a Kanye West kind of gold, it was all around her body like the gold painted around some of those plaster Madonnas/Jesuses, the golden fringe came & went but when it came it sounded like unfriendly windchimes & was super-real. He was more loaded for real than he wanted but pushed himself to be careful to maintain a respectful, profesh demeanor, especially when conversating with Chippy D, he wanted to be the consummate self-effacing gentleman. Cause if he did OK this might lead to other jobs, it seemed like a pretty good way to earn $$$ until ReeRee & him were on their feet like kiss my a$$ & my anus cause it/s finally famous.

The strange shall we say circumstances added to his discomfort & budding mild paranoia. He & Montana were having a normal conversate like any 2 people who just met would or might, the peculiar a$$peck of course being they could/would be interrupted any moment by a person/persons unknown ordering them to enter a zituation wherein he would inevitably be placing/ramming his dick into her mouth, pussy or a$$-ho while other gentlemen he did not know (and had not had the pleasure yet of conversating with or introdoucheing himself) would be doing the same.

“So you were going to be in my dad/s movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Who were you going to play?”

“The orphan boy who pretends to be a child soldier.”

“That’s a big part!”

“Yeah.”

“Like what happened.”

“I read my scene with your dad.”

“You did ? Well you must/ve got pretty far. Now I’m impressed .”

“I read w/ Michael Douglas too.”

“You read with dad and Gordon Gekko? You the man! Were you nervous you musta been nervous. I know I’da been.”

“I guess. Do you ever get nervous? doing movies?”

“O I think every actress does — every artist . I think something/s wrong if you don’t. Because it doesn’t matter what your medium is: acting or painting or writing , doing porn or being a sculptor… it’s all pretty much the same. & the artists are the ones — we’re the ones who put ourselves out there, we put everything on the line. & I don’t think that ever gets easier.”

A boy-looking girl with a clipboard came over.

“We’re good to go, Montana. Need body makeup?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re squirtin on this one,” said boygirl, a crooked little unsmile.

“OH! Oh shit —okay…”

“We have tons of towels.”

“You got towels?” said chirpy Chippy, in her best worst Barbadian Barbie accent, a Rihannabe. “Now all we need is a radio, sand, & sunscreen.”

. .

Tom-Tom & Phil dropped by the poolhouse. (The blow-ups once on the wall had been bubble-wrapped & stacked/stored in the garage.) Jerzy was watching TV; Nicki Minaj just got Punk’d , which confused & surprised him because he didn’t think the show was even on anymore. Maybe at this point it was self-generating.

“Did you know,” he said, “that human beings were meant to gestate for 12 months?… the 4th trimester . But women’s hips can’t handle it. Duh! Design flaw! ”

She asked Jerzy how he was doing, & he said, “It’s a numbers game.” Tom-Tom said that Dr Phil had the cool idea of staging an intervention & she wished he would please consider for her sake because they were shooting inside a week and thus far all she had confirmed were Dr Phil & the schmigolo, and a raft of thin promises from 2nd&3rd-string players off Supermarket Sweep, Shedding for the Wedding, Little People Big World, Can You Duet? and Find My Family , plus maybe a fired, acne-pitted queen from Hair Battle Spectacular .