The Money You Borrow and the Money You Owe (7)

We were invited to Tut’s memorial service for Tiffany, which consisted of hot women in exposed black dresses and everybody else drinking and hitting on hot women in exposed black dresses.  I spotted Her at the party, as I nodded my head to Tommy’s conversation.  She had dark hair, with blonde highlights at shoulder length hair.  She wore a black, conservative dress with frill at the bottom.  I was at the bar, with neon lights right in my face, and I watched as she approached the casket, adorned with all of Tiffany’s movie posters, and she reached in and caressed her face.  I thought ,in my less than usual drunken state, that she might actually care for her.  I noticed  a similar curve in her face that I saw on poor Tiffany’s when she lay on the ground.  She was the only person that actually seemed concerned that a young girl was dead and everyone here witnessed it, which made her stick out in this crowd.  I left the bar as a blonde distracted Tommy.  God knows he needed it.  I hadn’t yet told him the fortune he owed his Mom, just for the chance to look at that blonde with his own two, living eyes.  I followed Her around the room in glances, as Tut now stepped up to mourn the body.  It took all of two seconds.  That means she was good.  The shot was heard throughout the room, regardless of the stereo-typical adult movie party music (whatever that is.)   She was out of the room before Tut’s make-up caked face hit Tiffany square between her once vibrant, now-deceased chest.  And so was I.   Tommy could find his own way out.

She was a good runner.  I’m sure she wasn’t thinking the same of me.  I caught up to her, and she started getting into a Jetta, but I didn’t want to leave my baby behind.
“No, get in my car!” I said, opening the driver’s side door.  It had such a smooth paint job.  Amazingly, she did.

She got in, sat down and in my rear view, I saw a gaggle of paid sex princesses and dorks that had big dorks coming towards us.  I kicked the engine on and briefly tried to make conversation.
“I’m Johnathan.  You are?”
“Just drive!”

So, now amazingly, I listened to Her.  I sped back out to the highway and drove seemingly until the sun burnt the moon away and daylight hit so hard, I never thought the night would return.   We hit Exit 17, and she had me pull off in a shopping plaza.   I gased up and she went into a salon, got her hair color changed and styled and her eyebrows waxed.  I know it sounds bizarre, but it was pretty damn attractive.  I needed answers.

“Who the frag are you?” I asked, cornering her as she got back in the car.
“I’m Tiffany’s sister, and I’d suggest getting out of my face.”
I took her advice, and never felt the same again.

Being drugged is an experience.  Not something I’d suggest to go out and try, willingly, but if it happens to you, you’ll not forget it.  It was hot.  A familiar hot, like that humid, dry heave, don’t want to walk hot.  I was feeling a little awkward.  I woke up in an empty room, except the large brute tickling my feet with a feather, of all things, they took my shoes.  Well, they took my money and Her gun that I had on me too, but my shoes?  And now some big yokle was tickling me with a feather.  Not to mention I could barely see straight.  My vision was blurry and colors and shades were mixing in front of me.  I had definitely been drugged.  A door opened, and I thought it was going to hit me in the face, but luckily I was on the other side of the room.  Then, I heard that shrill voice of Crapper’s and I wanted so badly to flip him off, except I only had one middle finger left and I was now tied in a chair.

“You are the very scum of the Earth, Mr. Goldstein.  I mean, you’re the mucus on the bottom of the shoe that stepped in dog doodoo and was never cleaned off.  I mean, you lie, you don’t hold a real job, you don’t pay taxes, you steal, and are even an accessory to murder.”
I glanced up to notice Her in the room.  Her new look was nice, but why was I an accessory to murder?  I wasn’t going to take this tied up, non-metaphorically speaking.

“Untie me, I dare you, and  tell you every truth that I know!”  God, what was I talking about?  I wondered why she was grinning at me?

“We made love last week sometime, and now I’m accessory to murder?
Crapper jumped in and took that one
“Oh you didn’t know?  She works for me. (Pointing at Her.)   See, you’re just a crawdad in a very large lake.  I’ve been looking to get into the movie business, and I needed some information, which you provided.  Not that you knew it.   Are you okay?”
I was in the desert.  I was in Florida, in a room with Her and Crapper and I couldn’t see straight.

“Where’s my gun?” Her asks.  Why does she need one anyways.  It fell out of her stocking.  In a hotel?  I haven’t been to a hotel, that I remember.  My toes.  He was still fucking with my toes.  No, what was he putting between my toes?
“This will sting a little.  But the enjoyment for me will be priceless.”



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