“Got the Pixies stuck in my head,” I said, “Wave of Mutilation.”
He hummed it, “Fuck it,” he relit the joint and passed it to me.  Everyone put their palms up.  Christine took a hit at the last minute.                                                                           “Great,” Anjelina said, “now they’re going to be laughing at every face that they see.”          Billy and Amanda were silently stoned.  I felt stress from Christine.                                          I rubbed her hand, “If he’s there, I’ll be graceful, babe.”                                                           She sighed and kissed my hand, “Thanks, Papa.”                                                                  Lionel looked at me, “Who, Alan?”                                                                                                “Oh, that fucker’s getting a piece of my action.  I meant her ex. Juke Box Hero.”             Amanda laughed into her glass, “That’s perfect.”

We pulled up to the house. It looked like a country club. We were flash-bulbed getting out of the limo.                                                                                                                                 “Thought this was a fucking party,” Lionel said, “Not a premiere.”                          “Whichever magazine’s covering it probably paid for almost all of it,” Anjelina said, “ignore it.”                                                                                                                                       “Bottom feeding motherfuckers.”

The living room was like a marble warehouse.  A fountain, statues, and faces everywhere.  I saw a free corner and stood by a bust of Nietzsche.  Billy and Amanda stood with us. Anjelina whispered in my ear that she was going to hunt for friends.  Lionel motioned a server over, and we lifted glasses of wine off a silver tray.  Two young blondes who had a reality show were being followed by a camera crew.  They were famous for nothing.  No talent, no souls.  They came from rich families and nothing else.  The taller one saw me and she ran over with her friend.                                                                                                    She looked at the camera, “That’s John Edmonds.  He’s hot.”                                                 She looked at me, “You’re hot.”                                                                                                       The cameras and lights were on us.  She went to hug me.                                                              I stopped her, “Beat it.”                                                                                                               “Huh?” She said.                                                                                                                             “Beat it,” I said, “you moron.”                                                                                                         The little one started to say something.  I glanced at her, then back to the taller one,           “And take your little brother with you.”                                                                                      They walked off.  The camera stayed on me.  I looked at Lionel,                                            “Pieces of shit.”                                                                                                                                        I looked at the camera guy.  He left.  Billy broke up laughing with Amanda.  Lionel looked at Christine, “So much for Anjie’s other woman theory.” He laughed and patted my back, “I love you.”

–Excerpt from Flotsam for Jetsam, coming soon.