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Date Posted: 13:42:26 10/26/99 Tue
Author: "Smutman" Jack Leer
Subject: Bend Over, I'll Drive
(Vegas is yesterday's news. A fat, bloated Disneyland where Elvis impersonators mingle through pinochle halls filled with the retired, shaking their hips and selling cheap recordings of themselves singing "In the Ghetto" at the local kariokee bar. Where mobsters of years past's children have torn out the blackjack tables to build an indoor waterslide, where the only Hollywood starlets you ever see are of the Angela Landsbury type, where the free all-you-can-eat buffets cost thirteen dollars.)
(But not Reno.)
(Reno is a city with one foot planted firmly in human sin. A neon wonderland of every conceivable lust for sale, where anything and everything has it's price. Where you are as likely to get a knife in the back or mugged by an off-duty police officer as you are to get a cheap hooker who doesn't have too many sores on her face to come up to your hotel room for the night. A town whose dark underbelly it wears proudly over it's shoulders like a badge of honor, a haven of back-alley deals and parking lot romances. A town that Jack Leer calls home.)
(Jack Leer's 1987 t-top Camaro backs into a parking spot in between a rusted olive-colored Chevy Nova and a cherry-red '65 Mustang, it's motor grumbling with power under the hood. Killing the engine and climbing out of the driver's side door is "Smutman" Jack Leer, himself. Dressed in red coveralls with a large Valvoline V on the front, numerous sponsorship patches from everything from Marlboro to Ace Hardware to Pez covering much of the suit. Closing the door and swaggering around the front bumper of the car, Jack Leer covers the parking meter with a paper bag reading "Out of Service" in big black letters. Unzipping his breast-pocket, Jack Leer pulls out a pack of smokes and makes his way to a nearby basement bar. A scar-faced biker standing before a sign reading "Closed Tonight for Private Function" nods at him and steps aside to let Jack by.)
(Jack Leer enters the Albatross Bar as the Cars "You're all I've got tonight" plays just over the roar of the party-goers. The smoky bar is filled with an assortment of scantily clad women and smarmy looking men, all dressed in costumes for Halloween. A leggy woman in a shiny vinyl nurse's outfit greets Jack with a smile and a hug, her 'uniform' creaking as she presses her supple body against him. Smiling, Jack Leer attempts to keep his cigarette away from her dishwater blonde hair, fearing the combustible combination of hair spray and burning ash.)
Woman: Jack, I'm so glad you made it! (Stepping back and holding her hands out, thrusting her chest forward) What do you think?
Jack Leer (Giving her the eye, taking a long look at her breasts nearly spilling out of the tiny costume): Lila, you look stunning.
Lila (Flashing a smile): How about I get you a drink, and then we can find us a broom closet to play doctor in ...
Jack Leer (Nodding and grinning): A drink would be nice.
(Lila turns to the bar, Jack Leer taking a look at her legs and short vinyl skirt as she goes. A robust Italian man wearing a cheap-looking pirate suit with a vapid-looking blonde dressed in as a parrot hanging on his arm, greets Jack Leer with a slap on the back with one of his meaty hands. )
Italian Man (With a loud, thick voice): Mario Andretti! Jack, I always knew you were a man who appreciated the fine sport of Formula One ...
Jack Leer: Actually it's Nascar, Tony. Dale Earnhardt. How you been?
Tony (Taking a drink from the parrot-lady's cocktail): Eh, you know. We're not seeing much profit from the internet site yet, but I tell you, the projections for next year! Can I get you a drink, Jack?
Jack Leer (Smiling): Open bar, huh?
(A far-away smile crosses the blank look on the blonde's face momentarily, and then is gone.)
Tony (Laughing): Hey, I haven't been in the business as long as you, Jack. But I'm telling you we should be out of the red come year 2002. You should really get yourself a pay site like me, Jack. You aren't careful the industry's gonna pass you by!
Jack Leer: Yea, Tony, I'll get right on that. Speaking of pay sites, you seen Sleazy Bob around yet?
Tony: Not yet, but some of his girls are here.
(A young woman in a Superman suit squeals and throws her arms around Jack's neck, her well-rounded frame achingly lovely, the smooth curve of her ass visible just under her little cape.)
Jack Leer (Laughing): Monique! If I had known Supergirl was going to be here, I would have worn my lead underwear.
Monique (Looking over Jack Leer, her eyes shining): Even lead couldn't stop me, Jack. So what's this I hear about you sleeping with underage girls?
Jack Leer (Laughing): Oh, you mean the thing on the wrestling show? Williams is just running his mouth, trying to generate some heat for himself. If he thinks his pathetic "investigation" is going to spook me, he's as dumb as he looks. If ten years, twenty district attorneys and the Supreme Court justices can't prove I'm a pedophile, the investigative prowess of a professional wrestler isn't likely to concern me much. What he fails to realize is that Leer Publishing deals with girls and their ages every day of every week, and Jenni Vengeance might be young, but not young enough to get me put in a cell.
Tony (Smirking): What? This Williams, he thinks you're an amateur?
Jack Leer: Apparently so. Williams should stick to wrestling, Sherlock Holms he is not.
Monique: I'm getting some friends together to watch your match tomorrow night, Jack. You always look good walking down that isle.
Jack Leer (Flashing a smile): I appreciate your support, Monique. The way "Superkid" Sean Stevens has been acting the past couple days, I'm not sure if it's going to be a wrestling match or a monster truck show. Should be a good match either way though.
Tony (Pointing): 'Ey, Jack, isn't that broad coming down the stairs that secretary of yours?
Jack Leer (Turning): I didn't know Ki Ki was showing up tonight.
Tony (Watching Ki Ki come down the stairs with a thoughtful smirk): You know, Jack, I'd buy out that girl's contract anytime ...
Jack Leer (Shaking his head and watching Ki Ki's entrance with a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth): Dream on Anthony, not even after 2002.
(Stepping easily down the stairs in double-strapped, crimson six-inch pumps, dressed in a blue corset, red tie strings along her backbone, it's ends bouncing hypnotically on the frilly white skirt just barely covering her firm backside, Ki Ki is a mesmerizing sight. Satiny top, neck cut low to show off her creamy cleavage, puffy white satin at the shoulders, red streaks ending in a cute bow at the tops of each of her arms. A bow in her hair, matching the redness of her lips, completing the ensemble. Her every movement a poetry of classical perfection. Her long legs lovingly embraced by Cuban-heeled stockings, a line of black tracing a path up the back of her legs, accentuating the tight curves of her calves and smooth thighs, muscles flexing as her weight shifts slightly with each step, her hips moving seductively.)
(Ki Ki flashes a smile at Jack Leer and crosses the carpet between them in a slow catlike strut, nearby party guests stopping their conversations to watch.)
Ki Ki (Her wet lips shining in the light of the bar, her voice airy with a hint of huskiness): Jack.
Jack Leer: Ki Ki.
Ki Ki (Grinning slyly): I brought you something I think you're going to like.
Jack Leer: I can see that.
(Shifting her body in a fluid, deliberate manner, Ki Ki lifts her arm, holding up a magazine in her hand, crimson fingernails cutting small creases in the cover)
Jack Leer: What you got there?
Ki Ki: TTSWF Hotline magazine, Jack. Check out page thirty eight.
(Jack Leer begins thumbing
through the magazine, a photo of Steve Black on it's glossy cover.)
Tony (To Ki Ki, a cocky grin on his face): You looking good, baby. Whatta you supposed to be?
Monique (A small crease of irritation on her forehead): She's Snow White, but what Snow White's doing hanging out with Rusty Wallace I'll never know.
Tony: Naw, he's Mario Andretti.
Jack Leer (Looking up): Actually, I'm seven-time Winston Cup Champion --
Ki Ki (With a knowing grin): Dale Earnhardt.
Jack Leer: Thank you, Ki Ki. See Tony, Ki Ki's the most well-rounded secretary in the business.
Tony: 'Ey, I ain't blind.
Jack Leer (Flipping a page in the magazine): So it's the rumors page, what should I be reading?
Ki Ki (Flashing a cunning grin): How about the part about "Golden Boy" Ric Anderson's girlfriend Miss Claudia and his boss President Vengeance?
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Replies:
- Comment (OOC) -- Jack Leer, 13:46:25 10/26/99 Tue