A Very Late Entry
Published on March 14, 2008 By uDigItTheMost In Fiction Writing

I don’t know how I got here at Mick Jaggar’s lawyer’s office. Well, I do but … Let me start at the beginning.

 

Last month, I had been playing  poker a lot online but I wanted to play in live tournaments so I flew to L.A. to play a few tournaments at the Commerce casino. I entered one and had been playing all day making the final table. In fact, I had made it to the final three players, which meant at least a 6-figure payday, when I heard a familiar voice. It was from John. Though, he is one of my closest friends I hadn’t seen him in years.

 

JOHN: What kind of bullshit tournament you running here when you let an asshole like him (points at me) play in it?

ME: (gets up and hugs him) John! What the hell? What you doing here?

JOHN: I live in L.A. now, baby boy. Come on let’s go! I got this thing going on you’re going to love. We’re going to work at the Academy Awards.

ME: The Oscars?

JOHN: Yeah, the Oscars. Come on let’s go.

ME: John, I’m playing in a tournament here in case you didn’t notice.

 

I was in a hand with the chip leader who had been bluffing all day. I think I spotted a tell on him, too. So after he raised.

 

ME: I’m all-in. I think you’re bluffing.

OTHER PLAYER: I call! ( turns over the winning hand knocking me out of the match)

ME: (turns to John) Now what was this job about working at the Oscars?

 

We head to John’s house in a limo. His limo. He told the driver to take him to his Glass House, meaning he owned more than one house in L.A.. When we get to this Glass House it’s the most beautiful house I ever seen, and it’s John’s house. John’s! This guy barely finished high school. I don’t know what he did for a living but it obviously paid well. We only stopped at his house so that his tailor could get my measurements so I can wear a tuxedo.

ME: Why do I need a tux?

JOHN: For your job at the Oscars.

ME: Doing what?

JOHN: Get this we’re gonna be fucking seat fillers.

ME: Seat fillers?

JOHN: Yeah, man. You know them stars hate sitting there for hours so some get up and go for a smoke or a drink or some other goodies. When they do we sit in their seat until they come back so that the people watching at home won’t see any empty seats.

ME: You’re shitting me? And we get paid for it?

JOHN: Hell yes, but that’s not the cool part. The cool part is you get to meet some famous fucking people. Behind the cameras they’re cool as hell. You’ll see I’m hosting an after after party.

ME: Who’s going to be there?

JOHN: You’re not going to fucking believe it.

 

Long story short the Oscars were cool as hell. Being a seat filler was better than I thought. I talked to everybody. Then the after party rocked. Getting drunk with Hollywood celebs was the craziest thing ever. Now we’re back in the limo heading to John’s Glass House for the after after party.

 

I still can’t believe how many famous people were there. Not only movie stars but recording stars, too. John’s Glass House is huge and in every room something different was going on. It was all so surreal. In one room, George Clooney is playing pool with Kanye West. (Btw .. Kanye West sucks at billiards). In another room, people are playing tennis on Nintendo Wii. Jon Stewart and Steve Carrel are playing against Daniel Day-Lewis and Colin Farrell (I’m telling you it was crazy).  In another room, people are playing basketball. Not on a video game either but actual basketball. John has a basketball court set up in a room. They’re were playing 3 on 3. Those 3 guys from Superbad were playing Green Day. In another room, people were karaoking (Is that even a word?). Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck were singing "You’re One That I Want" from Grease.

 

Even though it’s not my house I still play the part of host. I go from room to room talking to every celebrity I can. I flirt with all and every woman there. At one point I asked Beyonce to go outside with me for just one second but she said no because she thinks the paparazzi might take a picture of us and then the whole world will think something was going on between us. I told her, "Exactly. You sure you don’t want to go outside?"

 

John and I called next on the Nintendo Wii tennis and we end up smoking everyone. We start trash talking to everyone, too. No personal attacks. Just a little teasing about us kicking their asses. No one got mad at us. Well, no one until we played Mick Jaggar and Keith Richards from the Rolling Stones. We started beating them bad and they didn’t appreciate none of my comments like, "It’s A Jumping Jack Smash It’s a gas gas gas" or "Looks like Mick and Keith are going to have a 19th Nervous Breakdown" or "Hey hey you you Get Off My Court". They got so pissed they attacked me but people held them back.

 

John and I left and went to go do some karaoke. I signed up and started talking to the blonde woman running it.

ME: Do you have 'Let It Bleed' from the Rolling Stones?

BLONDE: Sure do, Hon. We have the song and the CD.

ME: Really? You have the CD? Cool, I’ll do 'Monkey Man' then.

BLONDE: Which one?

ME: 'Monkey Man.'

BLONDE: Ah .. um .. Hon, 'Let It Bleed' is from the Rolling Stones. Not the Monkees.

ME: No, not the Monkees. I said 'Monkey Man'. It’s a song on the CD 'Let It Bleed'. I want to sing 'Monkey Man' next.

MICK JAGGAR: You’re not singing our bloody song.

KEITH RICHARDS: Fuisg yusaui asciosdg.

ME: What?

MICK JAGGAR: You heard Keith, you wanker. He said we’ll sing it.

KEITH RICHARDS: Yeah nsvbcas uwvbca.

 

I had no idea what Keith just said. I don’t think he even knows were he is let alone what he just said. But I figured I might as well piss them off some more.

 

ME: (fake singing to Mick and Keith) You Can’t Always Get What You Want.

MICK JAGGAR: Don’t start that shit again.

KEITH RICHARDS: Yeah bsahhi bbuisgc.

ME: I guess you boys can’t get no Satisfaction.

 

With that they attacked me but both John and I were ready for them. We picked them up and threw them in the pool. Then we told security to escort them off the property. Two weeks later, we were notified we were being sued by Mick Jaggar (Told you Keith had no idea where he was) which brings me back to sitting here in Mick Jaggar’s lawyer’s office.

 

JOHN: Don’t ask me how I know but I dealt with this lawyer before.

ME: How do you know him? You been sued before?

JOHN: Didn’t I just tell you not to ask?

 

Mick Jaggar’s lawyer Richard Bastage walks right into the conference room and starts right off lawyering ( I hope that’s a word).

 

JOHN: (whispers to me) Here it comes. He loves idioms.

 

Richard Bastage starts telling us that though we committed a brutal attack on a legendary rocker they are willing to avoid all criminal charges and proceed to the civil matter. Now before our lawyer can say anything Richard Bastage produces a giant picture which shows John and I throwing Mick and Keith in the pool. More importantly, it shows me throwing Mick in the pool (Fucking camera phones).

RICHARD BASTAGE: (looks at me right in the eye) A picture is worth a thousand words … Or in this case thousands of dollars.

ME: Thousands of dollars??! (I look at John then I look back at the lawyer).

RICHARD BASTAGE: It’s as simple as this Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time .. or in this case Don’t do the crime if you can’t pay the fine.

ME: (looks at John) What the hell?

JOHN: (shrugs) Told ya he loves them idioms.

 

We settled out of court. Mick got all my poker prize winnings. Richard Bastage was getting real paybacks on me to for the way I acted that night because soon as I signed all the necessary papers.

RICHARD BASTAGE: (smiles at me) Yes, a fool and his money are soon parted.

ME: Fuck you!

RICHARD BASTAGE: (still smiling) Oh, don’t get mad. Here’s some free advice. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw Stones.

 

Fucking Bastage. He took all my money, too. What a real Richard.

 


Comments (Page 2)
2 Pages1 2 
on Mar 25, 2008
You still got it!   

Great story - even without the bad pun!
on Mar 26, 2008

I'm willing Maso will back me up

Abso-bastage-lutely...  If all the bastages in all the villages around the world got together and formed their own village, Sancho would be voted the bastage of that village (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration but the little green monster made me do it).

I'll admit it. I'm as bastage as it gets.

Yes, you are...  

on Mar 31, 2008
You still got it!   

Great story - even without the bad pun!
Thanks, Doc.
Damn, I thought it was a good pun.
on Mar 31, 2008

Abso-bastage-lutely...  If all the bastages in all the villages around the world got together and formed their own village, Sancho would be voted the bastage of that village (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration but the little green monster made me do it).  

2 Pages1 2