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Greenwich, Connecticut
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“You live here?” Betty exclaimed as Shannon drove past the guard on Serenity, who laughed when she gave him the bird. “Holy shit, you must be fucking loaded.”
“Only if the package store delivered today,” Shannon sighed. As they made the first turn, a magnificent brick mansion loomed into sight.
“Don’t tell me,” Betty sighed. “Is that yours?”
“No, this is Tyler’s. Mine is over there.” She pointed to a huge white limestone mansion nestled behind some trees. It had once been the residence of movie actor Douglas Fairbanks.
“Wow, that’s outrageous,” Betty said. “I want a place like that. How do I get one?”
“Write shitty mystery novels that only assholes will read,” Ann giggled as Shannon pulled into Tyler’s driveway.
“Look who’s talking,” Shannon laughed. “That fucking rag of yours isn’t even worth using to start a fire.”
“Hey, my paper is on a par with the New York Times,” Ann huffed. “Well, almost. Except for the shit about rotten corpses and devil worship.”
Tyler Brooks, the world’s most famous actor, staggered out his front door, a beer firmly clutched in his hand. He lurched over to Shannon’s car and leaned inside the driver’s window. He ran a hand through sandy hair, his blue eyes boring into Shannon’s.
“Miss Flynn,” he smiled. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“I came over to give you some pussy,” Shannon giggled. Tyler roared with laughter.
“Indeed you did,” he said. “Oh, and you brought Miss Coleman with you. How convenient. I am putting in my garden, and require a farm animal to pull my plow.”
“Plow this, you bastard,” Ann laughed.
“And I see you have with you...... my my, what is that thing in the black dress? Is that a girl?”
“What did you say?” Betty said in disbelief.
“You heard me,” Tyler slurred. “I may be inebriated, but I do not stutter. You are a most ungainly specimen of the female species. Whatever possessed you to do that to yourself? Your appearance is dreadful. You are much too thin.”
“Oh, you’re going to get yours,” Betty snapped. “Actor or no actor, I’ll kick your ass for that. Let me out, Auntie.”
“Auntie?” Tyler giggled. “You’re related to the dreadful Coleman creature? That explains it. Poor thing has the genetics of a wildebeest. Oh well, you may all come inside and bask in the glory of my greatness.” Tyler burped loudly and headed back to the house.
“Let’s go,” Shannon said. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Betty. He’s just kidding.”
“Fucking bastard,” Betty grumbled as she headed for Tyler’s house. “This better be good, or I’m going to waste this prick.”
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Tyler said as Betty stormed through the door. She stared in disbelief.
“This looks like the Vanderbilt mansion,” she said in awe. “How the hell did you ever do this?”
“Point to pictures and write checks,” Tyler said, eyeing Betty up and down. “Where is your ass, young lady?”
“Meet Tyler Brooks,” Shannon said. “Tyler, this is Betty Coleman, Ann’s niece. Behave. She‘s like me.”
“Good grief,” Tyler sighed. “All right, my apologies, Miss Coleman number two. Would you like a beer or five?”
“Sure. I get calm when I drink. So, you’re the famous Tyler Brooks, huh?” Betty smiled, flipping her hair. “Ever do a skinny brunette?”
“Sure,” Tyler said, winking at Shannon. “None like yourself, though.” He went to the kitchen and reappeared with a huge cooler full of Coors Light. He placed it on a coffee table that had once adorned a French palace, and sat down. “Dig in.”
Everyone helped themselves. Tyler eyed Shannon suspiciously. “You neglected to state why you were here. That is most disturbing.”
“Does he always talk like King Charles?” Betty asked.
“Yes, he does,” Shannon said. “Now Tyler, dear, whatever do you mean? What ulterior motive could I possibly have?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tyler sighed as he settled into his sofa. “Perhaps another of your suicidal adventures involving the death of thousands of people, one of which is potentially me.”
“You got it,” Shannon said. “What a genius you are. Although it isn’t my adventure, it’s hers,” Shannon said, pointing at Betty.
“Involving what? Malnutrition, or the exploits of people too thin for breast implants?”
“I don’t need big tits,” Betty said evenly. “I can swallow a kielbasa without gagging.”
“A talent I admire greatly,” Tyler smirked. “Although you don’t quite fit my parameters.”
“I fit everybody’s parameters,” Betty said. “Wanna find out? Say when.”
“After you get a sex change operation,” Tyler winked. Betty just stared.
“No, it can’t be.”
“It can,” Shannon said.
“It is,” Ann giggled, catching a quick buzz from the beer. “He’s a better cocksucker than you.”
“Awww, come on,” Betty said. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“They are quite serious,” Tyler said. “But fear not, it isn’t contagious. Although you may want to avail yourself of the services of a carpet muncher, since no man would want you.”
“I’ll......” Betty said, pointing at Tyler. “You........”
“Speechless, eh,” Tyler sighed. “Relax and drink. I jest quite a bit but mean no harm.”
“What a bunch of shit,” Betty sighed as she attacked her beer. “I get the story of the century, and who helps me? A bleach blonde writer, a homo actor, and my crazy aunt.”
“You couldn’t ask for better support,” Tyler said with a wink. “Miss Flynn and I, along with the dubious assistance of Miss Coleman, have unraveled some of the most amazing crimes of all time. And for no pay, I might add. So, what is the nature of your story? And just who the hell are you, anyway?”
“I am a free lance journalist. I was contacted by a man who claims to have access to nuclear weapons, which he intends to plant in the San Andreas Fault. Good-bye California.”
“Let him,” Tyler shrugged. “I have no need of any more money. The movie industry is quite boring anyway.”
“That’s what I said,” Shannon shrugged. “Fuck him. We live in Connecticut.”
“You’re kidding,” Betty said.
“We are not,” Tyler said as he reached for another beer. “As Miss Flynn slurred, we live in Connecticut.”
“Come on,” Ann said. “I have a lot of readers in California. I need that state.”
“Nobody else does,” Tyler said. “I say we contact this gentleman, through the awful looking Miss Betty, and inform him that he can grease up his nuclear weapons and deposit them firmly in his posterior.”
“Your command of the English language is astounding,” Betty said, crossing her legs. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“Speak, not talk” Tyler corrected. “I, unlike the three of you, paid attention when I attended reform school. But enough about me. Is this threat credible, Odile?”
“Jesus,” Shannon giggled. “He got you there.”
“What? What did he say?”
“He called you Odile.”
“I know that,” Betty snapped. “Who the hell is that?”
“The evil Swan from the ballet Swan Lake,” Tyler sighed. “Didn’t you manage to learn anything in your six years of high school?”
“Very funny. I studied under some of the best teachers in New England,” Betty said.
“I’ll bet you did,” Ann muttered. “With or without your legs in the air?”
“You shut up too, you old muck raker. I can take just so much of your bullshit, then the fur will fly.”
“I assume we’re going to have a physical confrontation between yourself and the gigantic Miss Coleman,” Tyler smiled. “Should I move the furniture?”
“All right,” Shannon sighed. “Enough of this. What are we going to do about this? The government will try to fix it if we don’t, and they’ll fuck it up. Then the guy will come here and dump Connecticut into the ocean.”
“I can move,” Tyler sighed. “I hear Montana is nice.”
“I can’t move,” Shannon said. I can’t afford the truck. Ann can’t move, either. They don’t have a truck big enough to haul her giant panties out of the state.”
“Fuck you,” Ann muttered. “Bastard. I’ll get you for that. At least my underwear doesn’t have DNA in it from half the US Navy."
“You are all incorrigible,” Tyler said. “Okay, here is what we will do. You, Miss Betty, will contact this cretin and inform him that he is insane and that we have no interest in this whatsoever. You may make reference to his smaller than average genitalia and the fact that he is seeking attention to detract from the fact that he could not satisfy the average parakeet in bed.” Tyler looked down at Betty’s legs. “Sorry, no offense.”
”You wait,” Betty said. “When this is over, I’m going to beat you so bad you won’t be able to blow out a birthday candle, much less your boyfriend.”
“Idle threats from an idle mind,” Tyler said. “Perhaps you should develop a sense of humor, since you are incapable of developing breasts.”
“Good God,” Betty sighed, shaking her head. “Give me another beer.”
“Who’s driving?” Ann giggled as she started on another.
“Nobody,” Tyler said. “You will remain here, or at the residence of whatever that is on my couch with the blonde hair.” He raised his beer. “Cheers, Miss Flynn.”
“You’re lucky I like you,” Shannon said.