at the time. And nobody said a word. We all just kept taking delivery. From Stella. Happy as fairies dancing around her particular tree.
It was also about that time when Wendy split our little kingdom in two, one side for the family, and one side for the PD. The stuff was always there. In piles. On my half. I guess you could say that I had two lovers, and Wendy was smart enough to keep my other lover the hell away from our daughters.
The parties continued.
More and more money went from my coffers into Stella’s. I introduced her to damn near everyone in the movie business. I guess most of the industry was on the hook by then … because of those parties.
It was also at those parties where Stella spent her public time with the King. I never did find out how they had first met … or even what they saw in each other. We all knew he was married. We also knew he was getting a little side-action … from Stella. Nobody said a word about that either.
For the first few years, the two of them never showed up together, court etiquette being what it was back then. But they certainly left together, touching the way only lovers can. Eventually, though, they started showing up together. Unashamed. Unabashed. Arm-in-arm.
That was about when the Queen got sick.
It was in all the papers, and the whole kingdom was saddened by her illness. Everyone got the blues, well, almost everyone. I was sort of out of it. The Queen was human and had been born a commoner. I guess the King had a soft spot for humans. Their wedding had been a spectacle, and the entire kingdom fell in love with the soft-spoken lady that had so enchanted our King.
As her illness progressed, songs were written and a litany of well-wishes sent to the palace. I’m sure Wendy sent more than one. She loved the Queen as much as anyone, I guess. Frankly, I was too wired most of the time to know what was going on … and too stupid to see where everything was headed.
I made one blockbuster after another, and money rolled in. The parties continued, bigger every time. Wendy had another baby. She also stopped coming to the parties. I remember feeling sad about that, torn between the love of my life and the PD. And yes, I was torn, but the PD flowed like a great, golden river … from Stella, through me, out into the film industry and beyond. I was the center of the universe, and didn’t want that to ever change.
It took a year for the Queen to die.
When she did, Wendy never said a word. She just laid the Queen’s obituary on my chest and walked away while I was passed out in a lounge chair by the pool.
O O O
The beginning of the end of my life was a headline:
CORNELIUS OVERDOSES ON SET
We were on location … a big-budget production. The whole crew had been dropped in by zeppelin smack dab in the middle of a hot, desert shithole where the character I was playing had to save a damsel in distress from steam-driven automatons. I was so high in those days that I don’t even remember getting on board the zeppelin. I do remember blinding sunlight and dry air that hurt my lungs, though.
More PD made the pain go away.
On the third night of shooting, most of the cast dropped by my trailer for a party … as usual. The PD was there, and yes, in piles. I’d brought enough shit with me to kill a herd of elephants. I always did, and everyone knew it. The party got out of hand, again, as usual, and it was still hot, and still dry. I guess I wanted to make the pain go away, so I kept snorting and snorting … and snorting.
The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed thinking my head was going to come apart. The room was empty except for Wendy, and she held my hand like she never wanted to let go. There were no flowers from the crew, no well-wishes from the Director or Producers.
Just Wendy.
A smart dwarf would have figured out that it meant something. That it was important. I’ll never forget the look on her face. There were a thousand words on her lips, a
It was also about that time when Wendy split our little kingdom in two, one side for the family, and one side for the PD. The stuff was always there. In piles. On my half. I guess you could say that I had two lovers, and Wendy was smart enough to keep my other lover the hell away from our daughters.
The parties continued.
More and more money went from my coffers into Stella’s. I introduced her to damn near everyone in the movie business. I guess most of the industry was on the hook by then … because of those parties.
It was also at those parties where Stella spent her public time with the King. I never did find out how they had first met … or even what they saw in each other. We all knew he was married. We also knew he was getting a little side-action … from Stella. Nobody said a word about that either.
For the first few years, the two of them never showed up together, court etiquette being what it was back then. But they certainly left together, touching the way only lovers can. Eventually, though, they started showing up together. Unashamed. Unabashed. Arm-in-arm.
That was about when the Queen got sick.
It was in all the papers, and the whole kingdom was saddened by her illness. Everyone got the blues, well, almost everyone. I was sort of out of it. The Queen was human and had been born a commoner. I guess the King had a soft spot for humans. Their wedding had been a spectacle, and the entire kingdom fell in love with the soft-spoken lady that had so enchanted our King.
As her illness progressed, songs were written and a litany of well-wishes sent to the palace. I’m sure Wendy sent more than one. She loved the Queen as much as anyone, I guess. Frankly, I was too wired most of the time to know what was going on … and too stupid to see where everything was headed.
I made one blockbuster after another, and money rolled in. The parties continued, bigger every time. Wendy had another baby. She also stopped coming to the parties. I remember feeling sad about that, torn between the love of my life and the PD. And yes, I was torn, but the PD flowed like a great, golden river … from Stella, through me, out into the film industry and beyond. I was the center of the universe, and didn’t want that to ever change.
It took a year for the Queen to die.
When she did, Wendy never said a word. She just laid the Queen’s obituary on my chest and walked away while I was passed out in a lounge chair by the pool.
O O O
The beginning of the end of my life was a headline:
CORNELIUS OVERDOSES ON SET
We were on location … a big-budget production. The whole crew had been dropped in by zeppelin smack dab in the middle of a hot, desert shithole where the character I was playing had to save a damsel in distress from steam-driven automatons. I was so high in those days that I don’t even remember getting on board the zeppelin. I do remember blinding sunlight and dry air that hurt my lungs, though.
More PD made the pain go away.
On the third night of shooting, most of the cast dropped by my trailer for a party … as usual. The PD was there, and yes, in piles. I’d brought enough shit with me to kill a herd of elephants. I always did, and everyone knew it. The party got out of hand, again, as usual, and it was still hot, and still dry. I guess I wanted to make the pain go away, so I kept snorting and snorting … and snorting.
The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed thinking my head was going to come apart. The room was empty except for Wendy, and she held my hand like she never wanted to let go. There were no flowers from the crew, no well-wishes from the Director or Producers.
Just Wendy.
A smart dwarf would have figured out that it meant something. That it was important. I’ll never forget the look on her face. There were a thousand words on her lips, a
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