Part 3 continues
"All right, Cat. It's the morning after, right. Gonna need you to hit middle of the way between already sated and insatiable. Got it?"
"Um...I'm not sure I do, FM."
"Moron." Bo said under a huff only audible to her sister.
"Bo. Give it a rest already, damn."
"Why? That is my personal opinion. I'm entitled to my opinion."
"And it's not like—what do you mean 'no'?—it's not like it's really true anyway, so she's fair game."
"You're not making any sense."
"What do you think, ladies, isn't this exciting?" Tiffany called out. "I think Valentine did an excellent job to start," she said primarily to Sylvia Marie.
"Oh, zhes, he is natural-born heavenly body. No choice but to twinkle in his eyes."
Ha! And Fluffer thought she wasn't making sense. But really it came down to knowing how to listen. Valentine Hart was a star. Check.
Now whether that other chick could hold her own next to him, yeah, Bo had her own opinions about that. But they'll see in a minute.
"Oh, okay, so this is me makin' to perk him up for the mornin'."
"Yeah, exactly, yeah."
"Better than a cuppa coffee," Val said, coaxing the smile back to her lips.
"Okay, Hart, for this take we're starting off awake already. Alert but calm. You know, do you. Stamina's the theme but don't rise to the occasion right away, let her tempt you, pull you in.
Like one o' those electronic atom things duking it out over the same charge in the air before they end up locked in together. Yeah, I don't know what it means either—where's Lew? Eh,
doesn't matter. To my eye, it still all boils down to sex and power, like everything. Ain't that what we mean by chemistry, by attraction? Anyway just remember: right now, you're the tease."
Val had his doubts about complicating the 'concept', cuz 'see Pretty Girl climb into bed with Guy, go buy only thing Guy's wearing hoping maybe Pretty Girls
will start climbing into bed with You' got right to the point, and it worked. That kinda thing always worked. But it turned out that when it came down to performing
'Guy in Drawers' it really did help havin' some sense of story and intention to latch onto, even for 30 seconds. Especially since he needed to not react right away.
Cat strutted over and hovered above his reclining head from the side—out of his light and the camera's line of sight. She listens!
And Valentine smacked an air-kiss her way before closing his eyes again and resting his head. Heh. He'd made an actual acting choice, but, hey, FM didn't call to cut. And it spurred her
on to turn up the charm. He opened just one eye while her fingernails grazed across his chest and charted a path down, down...down, and promptly closed it when she looked his way again.
FM actually laughed. This playful thing Hart started, that was good, he liked that.
They went back and forth like that, with Guy in Drawers pretending to ignore Pretty Girl for a l'il while longer until
she made her way onto the bed and started slinking up toward him. Guy in Drawers wasn't about to ignore that!
"Uh..." Oops. Johnny caught himself reacting out loud and clammed up; he knew they needed to keep real quiet right now. But...this was exactly what Flo and FM himself had been on about, wasn't it?
This girl, maybe they knew her, maybe she was another one like Fancey and the blonde bikini girl, but she didn't have a pass. Johnny hurried and tapped Remington on the shoulder.
Rem rushed over to stop her before she set a foot on the set. He pushed heavy-handed Gordo back and grabbed Lew instead to help him escort this whoever-she-was back down the stairs. Quietly.
"What is your deal, dude? Frankie is here, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he is," Rem said.
But there was no way in hell she was getting past him to go see for herself. Come on, nobody called him 'Frankie', not even Yes'm.
"Well then. Out of my way, please."
"I'm sorry, miss..." Lew started in, to pacify her.
"No can do." Rem finished for him, barring the way to the stairs when she made like she was gonna just brush by them.
"Don't you touch me—Hands off!"
Rem tried not to laugh, but it was definitely amateur hour.
"Hey, who's touching you, huh? You're the one tried to push past me. But you're not—"
"You're not on the list, miss. So to speak. It's a closed set."
"I don't believe this—I need to speak to Frankie. He's expecting me."
"A closed set is a closed set, miss. If you had an actual appointment with FM or with Yes'm, you missed it. I don't know what to tell you."
"Hmph." She looked over. "We'll see about that."
Shit. "You know who that is, don't you?"
"Yep. There's about to be some bullshit. C'mon. Better go see what he's doin' here. And remember, name or no, he's for sure not allowed either."
"Anything we can do for you, Mr. GilsCarbo."
"Oh, it's Mis-ter GilsCarbo for him, is it? Sycophant."
Rarely did Rem take an instant dislike to any chick, but this stuck-up brat...Thought he didn't know what that meant, didn't she?
But whatever. She wasn't his problem. GG, on the other hand... "Like I said, is there something we can help you with?"
"Well now, howdy-do, fella. I know you, don't I?" Goopy asked Rem.
"I've worked on a few of your pictures. Listen—"
"Not even, GG. It's his bad for not knowing his business. The rules are for the garden variety visitors, young man. Not us."
"Naw, Star, I mean that's the one I remember him from. Hey, I thought you said you'd seen all o' mine? You got to remember Mea Culpa."
"Oh. Right. I just—"
"Let's see, Anabella played my ex-wife in that one...talk about life imitatin' art, and the stepdaughter...Hot dog!
Imogen Pelly. She was a real firecracker that girl. Oh, I remember you now. Remember you real good."
While Goop was taking a stroll down memory lane that Rem refused to join him on, his current companion decided to try and seize her moment. But really? Like, really?
"GG? Come on, Mr. GilsCarbo, this is not cool."
"Hyuk-hyuk, that one's too fast for ya, Star. That, or you're too slow."
"Let me go!"
"Hold it down. I told you we're filming. GG?" Rem appealed to him again since he was obviously responsible for bringing this ditzy chick in here—what the hell
kinda stunt was this now, she was gonna barrel past him? That was the plan? But it looked like he was more interested in the view of her wriggling around, struggling
in Rem's arm, than telling her to act like she had some kinda couth. And with that signature hee-haw laugh of his, they were gonna need to keep Goop quiet, too!
"Let me GO!!!"
"Hmm." Val cocked his head. "Was that you? You say somethin', darlin'?"
"Sure? You didn't just say 'go'?"
"That's not the line."
"C'mon, Hart, head in the game. No, don't look at me, V—what is this? You got all that in front of you, oozing sex appeal all
over you and you're gonna turn away to gape at my mug? Get outta here, c'mon get outta the camera—look at her, look at her."
"Atta girl, kitty girl. Reel him right on back. You make 'im sit up and take notice. Him and all of 'em at home that'll be wishing they were him."
Enough was enough. Goop wasn't gonna muzzle his 'sidekick' and she refused to shut up on her own. She had to go.
"Sounds like you're own your own," Rem said, steadily backing her right out the door.
"Look, you can yell all you want out here. Go buckwild. Nobody will hear you."
"Take your hands off of me!"
"Done. So long, Star. Have fun shouting your lungs out at no one."
Remington knew his own strength, knew it well, and...no. He had never mishandled a woman, even by accident, and he sure as hell didn't trip
or shove her. It was so ridiculous, his instincts didn't even kick in to reach for the girl as she toppled backwards. But she did it in grand fashion.
"You are such a freakin' drama queen."
Stella pouted and crumpled herself into a pathetic little heap.
"So, uh, whatcha down there?"
She stamped one foot against the ground. Must've felt good because she did it again.
"It's not funny."
"Well, it's not. Help me up?" She switched gears and gave him the puppy dog eyes.
"You're gonna need a helluva lot more subtlety in your act before you debut it for the Mashugas. Especially if you don't wanna be laughed at."
"Oh, shut up," she said. "Help me up."
"Uh, no, this sycophant doesn't answer to you, sorry."
And Rem took a step back and pulled the door shut.
Stella jumped up.
"This is stupid. I'm with Goopy, you can't keep me out."
"Very funny, Red. Now open the door. I-promise-I-won't-scream-the-house-down.
Remington didn't bother to acknowledge her. It sounded like she was often promising to be on her best behaviour, and like she was a liar.
"How rude! Would you look at me when I'm talking to you! Red? I know you can hear me, you just spoke to me. Duh."
Stella yanked on the door handle but it didn't budge. "Red?! This really isn't funny. Let me in. Let me in! I'm not going away!"
"Say, boy, you look like a fan..."
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly—what the hell, was that a smile? Did he have gas? Did he hate his movies and didn't wanna say—What?
"You, uh, you do know who I am, boy, dontcha?"
"Yes, Mr. GilsCarbo."
"I've seen a lot of your movies."
"Hot dog! I knew I spotted me a fan—Which one's your favourite, boy?"
"I, um, I'm partial to The Lonely Man."
"You don't say? Not a lot o' the young folks took too kindly to that one. You must got you an old soul."
"I don't know if I, if I believe that. I, uh, I don't think you have to have lived as long as he did to, um, identify with the character.
They glorified—the audience, did—all the wrong things about him, I think. I always saw it as a, um, a sort of cautionary tale."
"Now, so did I. That's real interesting, what you say, cuz so did I." Goopy marvelled. "Forget all that hogwash 'bout risin' beyond temptations.
Any man get so jaded he cain't even feel the pleasures of the flesh no more ain't the man you wanna be followin' behind. Am I right, boy!"
Val could respect that this one here came to play. She might've been lookin' his way but it was that camera she was intent on seducing. And from all he could see she was damn sure gonna
have her way with it, have any and every body pulled in vicariously through that one-eyed...transmitter fit to be screaming her name for more before she was done ridin' his jockeys to fame.
But Johnny wasn't on the other side of a framed illusion. He may have been farther away than what the
camera pretended, but he was also right there in person and that made a difference when she...Holy-moly!
That was, uh, a, uh, a new angle for Johnny. Cat—Miss Cat—that is, Miss Sutter was, um...yeah.
He didn't wanna stare but it's not, it wasn't like she could see him staring. But that's what
made it feel kinda, well, pervy. So leave it to that idiot, Gordo, to come make it more so.
Johnny kept thinking about how real cats liked to stick their butt up in the air, too, which made it seem kinda funny, but not enough to distract him, not with the way she was wriggling around.
He hoped like hell his mom didn't look over and check on him again. And he elbowed Gordo to get off. 'Red-blooded' or not, they weren't on the same team.
Cat landed at her next mark and traced the pointed tip of her nail across the Valence name while she made bedroom eyes at the camera, but when she looked back at Valentine, she blanked.
"I'm sorry, y'all. It's not coming to me. What's my next line again?"
"Uh, that's my skin you're scraping up, y'know."
Val's right hand swooped up and snatched hers away before she dug a damn hole in his stomach with those claws trying to remember what came next for her to say.
"Oh! Whoopsie! I'm so sorry—is there a mark?" She bent over to inspect the tiny red splotch coming up on his lower abdomen.
"Whoa, kitty girl, what-are-you-doin'? This ain't that type o' scene!"
"No, I was just—" But when she popped up, lookin' guilty as charged he might add, Frankie was laughing at her. "Ugh. You. Get your mind outta the gutter, FM."
"Don't wait on that one, pretty kitty. We gutter-dwellers have too much fun." As she well knew. "Back in 2. Don't move," FM said before calling Syl to meet him at the other camera.
Cat got herself re-situated. "I am real sorry. Didn't break the skin, though, so that's good! From here on,
I promise, I'll be gentle," she said to Valentine. "Oh, wait, I already did promise that before, didn't I?"
"You sure did. Well, some girl who looked sorta like you did."
She giggled just like she did when she first 'ran into' him. "Whoopsie again"
Val didn't know what the hell her game was, but like with Sylvia Marie it didn't even matter, he kinda had to respect her hustle.
"Well, this time I mean it," she said, flashing a smile at FM when he and his camera came back ready to resume. "I'll be so, so...gentle."
Stella kicked the door a few good times in frustration.
"Hey, you'll break your foot before you break this glass—and what the hell is wrong with you anyway? This wasn't your big shot. You had no shot. None."
"That's not true! You don't know what I can do."
"I've got a good enough guess, blondie."
"So why don't you just go wait for him in the truck or something."
"You shut your smug—your smug name-tag-wearing face!" Stella retorted and kicked the door once more.
Rem flipped up his badge for a quick glance. "My name's not 'All Access'," he said, holding it up for her to read again, too.
"But that is my prerogative." Then Rem pointed to her and, with mock sad-face, shook his head and finger at poor little No Access her.
Yet as amusing, and annoying, as this was and she was, he was getting lulled into her bullshit and he didn't have time for any of it.
"Let me in! You've had your fun, let me in."
As he was about to walk away, Rem caught her scanning around for other access points.
"Don't even think about it. I've engaged the locks for all the doors so you're shit outta luck. It's not policy to lock up so early, but for you I made an exception. Congratulations."
"I said let me in or I'll—"
"What? You'll what? You're gonna huff and puff and blow the shit down? Is that it? Get a grip.
You ain't the big bad wolf," he said, and, in a flash, lunged himself smack up against the glass.
She jumped back, caught totally off guard at his sudden lurch in her direction and the wild look in his eyes, and Remington had quite a hearty laugh at Goopy's groupie.
"Hey! Hey, come back here! Come back here now, you self-righteous prick—How dare you! I'm talking
to you! How dare you walk away from me! I am Stella Chesterton!" she screeched. "Stella Chesterton!!!"
Rem left her to storm and shout all she wanted; the soundproofing on the windows upstairs was pretty damn thorough.
That girl obviously wasn't Method, that's for sure.
Not that those method actor types weren't also sometimes more trouble than they're worth for everybody else trying to work, but they did get the job done that they came to do.
Blondie might, at least, wanna get GG to give her a quick lesson or two in something other than the backseat rodeo before the next time she tried barging in anywhere thinking she was fixing to be a Star.
It killed him how many of these random chicks actually believed it was really gonna be that easy. GG had no shame, for real.
"How's about you look the other way right quick? Eh, boy? Ain't gon' be no harm in it, I promise, but I got to speak to Syllie."
"I can't do that, sir. FM does not want anybody wandering around his set today."
"Anybody? And who's anybody? I look like a dadgum anybody to you?! I don't give a damn what FM said for you to do with the 'anybodies'. I'm-a go wherever the hell I—"
"Is there a problem, Mr. GilsCarbo?" Rem interrupted.
"Now, don't you try to con me, too. Cuz I remember you—you can 'Mr. GilsCarbo' me all you like, I ain't about to fall for it. I'm here and I ain't goin' away on y'all's say. What the
hell's he shootin' up there anyway? Ain't this that Valentine Hart thing, what's so goddamn top secret 'bout that? I'm the one what sent him Cat! Even though he don't know it."
"So...you're here for Cat?"
"What? Hell naw! Ain't even seen that girl since I-don't-know-when, I just made a call that cleared her way for old times' sake. No, I ain't said jackrabbit about wantin' to see Cat, didn't even
know that was for sure 'on' still," Goopy said. "I'm here at the Mashugas' house, so you'd think one o' y'all might could figure out I wanna speak to me a Mashuga. And not that fat one neither."
"That's all GG's gon' say on the matter, so let's see how y'all two figure to work it out between ya."
GG had said this would be a hoot and a half, whatever the hell that meant, but it surely wasn't so far!
She knew they weren't invited and almost certainly wouldn't be welcome, but so what? That was part of the fun—getting people uptight and then putting just the right ones at ease and in her pocket.
Stella knew how to make sure they wouldn't soon forget her! But to do that she had to actually get past the goon squad rear guard. Not be shown the fucking door like a fucking commoner!
It was enough to make her want to scream except nobody was listening.
Nothing to do now but calm herself down and wait around for Goopy to come out.
Or—HA!—send Red to have to eat dirt and invite her back in! If GG could swing that, she might just do that thing he asked.
Rem whispered to Lew to keep GilsCarbo down here at all costs or, better yet, get rid of him if he could, while he went upstairs to pull Yes'm aside and let her know what was up.
Flo found herself irresistibly drawn in to watch the progression of the scene. And, no, not because she was lusting after Valentine, Bo.
She was hardly aware of having stood up and moved closer, but she wasn't thinking about him in that way. It was, well, it was a different kind of...impulse.
Flo did want to know what he thought of his young, pretty, so-on-and-so-forth co-star now, though. Now that they'd been properly...introduced.
Was he still worried about having to fake the funk, or did that fly right out the window the second she crawled on top of him?
She was willing to bet that now he wouldn't even remember ever teasing that there should've been a different actress getting into bed with him—Oh! Dang...he was looking right at her!
It felt almost like he'd heard her thoughts. Had she been staring or something? She didn't think so but she'd better watch that anyway; she had not meant to draw his attention.
But while she had it, she put it to use, mouthing a prompt for his next line since there seemed to be a question in his eyes.
Then Flo motioned with her hand under her own chin for Valentine to lift his. And now turn a tick to the left, out of the shadow...
Yep, just like that, she signalled from the sidelines.
"Hold it, Hart. Right there, that's perfect." FM seemed to agree with her directions! "Bee-yoo-tiful, Cat. Okay, again. Action."
But Yes'm only gave her a wink and a nod before turning back to survey the scene herself.
Flo-Flo felt like she'd never been winked at so much in her whole life as she had been today...but it's not like it was a bad thing.
If Sylvia Marie Mashuga liked her, or, even just didn't mind her when she was inadvertently crossing the line behind
FM's back, like actually stagemom-ing Valentine—ha-ha-ha!—well, anyway that was very much not a bad thing for Flo.
She caught his eye seeking her out again, but she behaved herself—proved that she knew how to behave on set and left all the directing to the award-winning professional.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute," Rem came up and whispered to Sylvia Marie, "Over there."
"Always, my London."
"Syl, c'mon! Would you shut it. Okay, so tilt your head back the way you had it, Hart, and...yeah, that's good. Now, give us the line again, sweetheart."
"Whatcha mean tellin' me she ain't g'on wanna see me? Me?!"
"I said she might not be able to. Today."
"Boy, I'll raise holy hell 'round here if you don't start actin' like ya got some sense. I don't give a got-dang about
what FM's doin' or gettin' in his b'ness. I tell you I came to see Sylvia Marie, and I aim to see her, too. You g'on and—"
"I don't think—"
"Oh, you don't think! You don't think she'll take the time out for the likes o' Goopy GilsCarbo. And who the hell're you?"
"I'm her nephew."
"Well, looky here, nephew. Nephew I ain't never heard word on all the years I been knowin' her. You go on and tell Syllie it's me, it's GG. See if she don't come runnin' down. Just you see."
"I don't think so, Mr. GG. Also, if you don't lower your voice I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Oh, you do, do ya?"
Barely a minute later, Goopy was storming out.
How in hell was he s'posed to pick a fight with a guy like that? You couldn't, you couldn't! But he sure did leave a message for the ones he could rile up!
This was getting ridiculous!
Especially because it was them. Again. The two who knew how he worked! No interruptions if the place wasn't goin' up in flames!
"Would-you-two Shaddup already! Remington, Sylvia Marie," he called them out like children, "gimme a goddamn break with the whispering. I'm workin' 'ere—we're working!"
FM gave them new directions but, as soon as he started rolling, Sylvia Marie's voice floated up again.
"...still in the house? So much of the nerve for wrong matters—I will—"
"For fuck's sake—Cut. We're gonna cut here for a minute. Don't go anywhere, just gimme one minute."
"And that, Miss Lady," Val whispered to Cat, "is why you never work with family. 'Specially not the one you married or married into."
"What the hell's all the commotion?"
"Frankl, it is nothing. We zip our lips, right so? Zip, zip. London, zip," she tapped Rem to pantomime along with her.
But with Frankie staring him down, Rem knew better than to play along, cuz if he did anything so silly FM would know something was up for sure.
"Uh huh....okay, good," he began to relent, "and keep 'em zipped. That goes for everybo—"
"Uh..." Lewis came up the stairs and found himself right in the line of fire. "Uh-oh."
"And where the hell have you been?"
"Oh, Lew?" Rem jumped in, "nah, it's nothing, just took a 10-1. We're all ready to keep rolling."
But nobody looked that guilty coming back from a piss break.
And nobody bullshits FM!
"Where were you?"
Rem eased back by the stairs and tried to casually, discreetly check out if there was anybody following Lew up or still hanging around down there or what.
The coast looked clear but whatever was going on, it was best to let Yes'm handle it. In that way of hers. And without lettting FM get wind that the Goop was slip-slidin' around.
"You sound confused," Frankie said. "Downstairs where? Were you really downstairs?"
"Oh, yes. I was. I was with—"
"Frankl, leave him be."
"Can it, Syl."
"But so much fuss. No need for fuss over no'tzing."
She fanned away Inquisitor Frankl and walked over by the camera to lead him back to work.
"So somebody's tryna crash my set, eh? Is that it?" he said, ignoring Sylvia Marie. "That's what's goin' on back here while I'm TRYIN' TO WORK!?!"
He didn't give a shit who she was covering for. Fired, that's what they were about to be, halting progress on his shoot for no good reason. "Who the hell is it with
such big balls they're gonna come disrupt my set—who is it? I'll make sure they never set foot on one o' my sets again. What's the name—Did you get a name?"
"I didn't need to, it was Goopy GilsCarbo," Lewis said.
Rem hung his head. He couldn't believe the guy just it blurted out.
"It's okay. He's gone. I told him we were too busy. He's gone now."
"Yeah, and what did he say to that?"
"He said to tell the fat son of a bitch that he'll be back to claim what's his after his win."
There were groans and gasps and gritted teeth all around, but...that's what he said.
"Or maybe that was: he'll be back to claim his win. It was one or the other."
Didn't matter, FM had shoved Lew and the others out of his way as he raced over to the window and saw that smug hillbilly sittin' out there.
He banged on the glass, but GilsCarbo didn't hear him, he didn't look up.
Frankie ran out to where the fucker'd be sure to hear what he had to say!
GG rolled down the window to hurry her up but, mid-sentence, ended up yelling into thin air.
"What? What the hell do you want? I'm leavin' already so shut yer fat lip! Got me a gala function to go on an' get ready for. What the hell've you got? Nothin', from what
I hear. Some lame-ass commercial? That's nothin'. Some lame-ass commercial you got to shoot outta your dang house like a loser. Back to square one, hey, big boy?"
"You're as stupid as you look, GilsCarbo! This commercial's nettin' me more than your overrated, sorry ass made on your last 4 flops combined!"
"Hey boy, I got yer flops!" Goopy yelled back, once he'd given it a think after instinctively flippin' him the bird. "Right here, Tubby!"
"Why 'on't you send the ol' girl out here an' I'll show ya what flops! I'll flop it to 'er real good."
What?! What did he say...?!
That son of a MotherFucker!
FM yanked that shoe off and reared back to launch it right at that asshole's head!
Damn coward started pulling off!
"Yeah, that's right, you better drive off, you...Failure!—You're a failure as an actor, you're a failure as a man!"
"That ain't what your wife said!"
Goopy turned all the way around and stuck his head out to flip him off again, giving Frankie a clear target at which to launch his missile.
"Yeah, you wish, jackass. But my wife and both your exes like their men with big feet! Like 'em full-grown, Mr. Boys' Department, 7B!
Why don't you try this on for size!" FM yelled and pitched that shoe with all his might. "See how you really measure up, motherfucker!"
"And watch the road you dumb hick!"
The other driver went to town on his horn but that dumb fucker still wasn't payin' attention.
Not until the van screeched to a stop, that got the sonuvabitch to finally turn around, just in time to swerve outta the way.
And with his dumb luck the guy didn't even jump out and punch him in his stupid face. Was probably gonna brag on how he 'ran into' Goopy GilsCarbo today.
Fucking fans. Fucking idiots. Fucking smug-ass idiot actors. The has-been. His friendship was as fake as his lousy fucking performances!
"You're an asshole, GilsCarbo!" Frankie yelled after getting himself all worked up again. "A bonafide fuck up! And you'll never be on top again, you hear me? NEVER!"
Goopy'd cut left off the curb and got his truck under control and drivin' straight on down the road, but his mood was all bent outta shape. The fat fuck!
Who does he think he is? But he'll show him, that's for dang sure! He'll show 'im! Throwin' shoes and shit. That's why he missed! That no-aim-havin',
lucky-punch-throwin' bastard. Hypocrite, that's what he was. But don't nobody get one over on GG. Not FM, not no one. The Goop'll show him!
And had nerve to call him a failure. Him! Goop punched the wheel in frustration and slammed on the gas. The Awards people sure ain't think he was no failure! So while FM'd
be stuck watchin' from the cheap seats at home tonight, he'll be ridin' high on his nomination with his new lady jus' beamin ' for the cameras! That'll show the both of 'em!
"Hey!" Stella shouted at the truck driving off without her. "Goopy?"
Frankie was the easy-going type most o' the time, he thought, but he'd had it up to here with that guy! He was done playing with him. Done! This wasn't a game and it wasn't a damn scene.
It was his goddamn life! If GilsCarbo had any sense at all left, any at all, he'd keep on driving away fast as he can and never show his face around here again. Not if he knew what was good for him.
"Don't, Syl. Not now, no way, not now, babe!"
"Hey. You," Frankie said, heading straight for Gordo, he looked just the man for the job. "Yeah, you, it's you I need. Go downstairs and keep an
eye out, all right. You're my eyes, guy. But keep outta sight. You see a silver truck rollin' around, if the guy gets out you take care of it, okay."
"On it, Boss."
"Wait. Gordo, wait. FM, no."
"Nobody was talkin' to you, Rem. I suggest you mind your business."
"Now you—" Lew gulped as FM turned to him. "You go down there with him," Frankie said, "and get my goddamn shoe."
"...shit, that shoe cost more than I'm payin' him for the day..." Frankie was muttering under his breath.
Val had hung back so he didn't have a clue what all was going on and that was starting to annoy him.
"What's up, FM? Is everything cool? I see you lost your shoe, man, are you—you need help with somethin'?"
"No, no, Hart, no worries. Everything's status quo. I mean, hell, I coulda used that arm o' yours a minute ago. No way you woulda missed, but hey, we can't
all be Valentine Hart, right." Frankie laughed it off, meaning to keep his star at his ease. Besides, he'd been doin' pretty all right for himself as Frankie Mashuga,
anyway—so what he couldn't throw for shit. But he would've for sure given his left shoe to see that asshole get popped smack in the face, hard, with his size 11!
Oh, it was that other one.
He wasn't as cute...but he also wasn't the one who tossed her out on her butt.
What started as such a chill day—well, night and day—with her and GG gettin' up to stuff, bein' young, free, and over 18, y'know...livin' it up...this day had turned into a major bummer.
Middle fingers and Bruno Maglis flying through the air and two major Starrywood players cussing at each other like sailors from across the
street, like, in public, in broad daylight, that was the coolest. But this being forgotten about, actually forgotten about in the commotion, wasn't.
Stella was completely stranded. As stranded as you can be in your own city with a bus stop right down the block, but Stella Chesterton doesn't do bus. Duh.
Plus, she didn't have any money. On her. Maybe this is what they meant by 'poor little rich girl', huh. But, like, what kinda losers carry cash anyway? The kinda losers who are used to their rides
ditching them, maybe. But no man or boy had ever run out on Stella before, thank you, and she was still kinda waiting for that 'dumb, fucking hick', like FM called him, to swing back around to get her.
Sylvia Marie always waited and watched the credits roll. And sometimes there were surprises.
What would discarded girlie do with no Goopy to the rescue? Stay tuned.
"No, no, no, no, dollface, we're not on break, gonna get straight back to it. You're cool, Hart, right?"
"Uh...yeah, if you are."
"Okay, cool, cool, cool. Let's keep this thing movin'.
"Syl, come on, come away from that window already. Nothin' more to see. And if there is, I've made sure it'll be dealt with. So come on, babe. Let's do this."
No goddamn GilsCarbo was gonna sabotage him, not today! Like Frankie said, he could shoot the shit upside-down and barefoot, and he would, too.
And if Goop came back around, Gordo had orders to break his face.
"Okay, so we're gonna move on and knock out the lovey-dovey stuff and then Cat can do a quick change—a quick change, for the 'covalent bonds' setup. Hey, don't look at me, I don't write this shit, I just make it happen."
Part C coming soonish.
NB: I think I mentioned in a tumblr post about furious Goopy showing up on the lot all the time, but I had no intention of writing him in. And then I got an idea, and, well, here we have it. The enmity between those two, however, has nothing at all to do with the enmity that ran the Mashugas out of town. They just happen to make enemies as fast as they make friends and, in the case of Goopy, oftentimes their enemies are former friends. He and FM were actually best buds, but boundaries, man! Monogamy may not be a condition of the Mashuga marriage but there are still some hard and fast boundaries. And Goop didn't only try to get into his best friend's wife's pantalones when he wasn't looking, he called himself falling in love with Sylvia Marie and tried to woo her! FM's aim was true that day when he punched Goop in the face; and the jackass had the nerve to cry foul over the shiner on his 'moneymaker', like his mug was even in demand these days! In any case, some insight into the backstory of the backstory.
Oddly enough, or not, I haven't actually been watching any Looney Tunes lately, but I think once I made that Bugs Bunny reference in the last one it must've stuck with me. Goopy started sounding to me like a cross between Yosemite Sam and Foghorn Leghorn, so...I went with it.