This is the next episode in Braveheart's Sandbridge saga. Enjoy his work, and celebrate a good man and a terrific writer.
Scrib
This time – A catfighting Ex-Wife from Hell blows into town and the hair is going to fly. Soap diva Jackie Manning-Sebastian fights a future Oscar-winner for a part, has a dispute with a costar and encounters one of “Nick’s Angels”. This is a long one, but I suppose it deserves to be, seeing as I’ve been building up to it for two stories now. Welcome back to Sandbridge … //Braveheart
Welcome to Sandbridge – Carly and Jackie
The Red Riot
A Sandbridge Saga Tale 9
Intro
I’ve made my share of mistakes in my life. Who hasn’t? When I make one, it’s a classic. Drinking myself out of my job as a newspaper reporter was one. Believing Jackie Manning-Sebastian when she had told me seven years ago that she was not having an affair with Chad Thoreau, her costar on the “continuing drama”
As the Days Go By was another. At least I fix my fuck-ups – I’ve cut way back on my drinking and I divorced the lying bitch. Also, when I screw up, I rarely make the same mistake again. It’s a rule of mine. Now my cheating ex-wife is back in my life, and she seems bound and determined to get me to break this rule the way she broke our wedding vows.
Red Jackie’s never been completely out of my life. My two sons are 10 and 12 and I would make the flight to NYC once a month to see them. The court mandated I’d be allowed that much. Now she’s living here, having just been signed to a major role in the popular soap
Edge of Darkness which is shot in LA. My hope was that I’d be able to see my boys a lot more often. The problem was, she’d have to allow it. That was her trump card … and I knew she’d use it.
It was evident that she wanted me back. Over my fuckin’ dead body.
Speaking of shot in LA, I felt like I’d been shot in Sandbridge the day she came into my office unannounced and plopped her hot self in my lap. My name is Nick Sebastian and I’m a writer for Hollywood powerhouse producer, Drake Coburn, as well as his friend and guy who did all sorts of weird and shady shit for him when necessary. My present assignment is as weird as it gets – to document and report the multitude of catfights that seem to be this town’s legacy dating back to the 19th century and continuing to this day. I don’t mind my job at all – I’ve been a catfight fan ever since I’ve had balls. So has Drake. And for that matter, my ex-wife Jackie loves a good one too. She’s a hot-tempered redhead from New Jersey who I nicknamed the Red Riot. She’s had her share since I’ve known her – mostly short scuffles, but at least a couple beauties I’ll tell you about later.
If it’s another catfight Red wants, she’s come to the right place in Sandbridge. I’ve met a lot of ladies around town and some of them have become good friends of mine. From the stories I’d told about her and the way she left me for that dirtbag Chad, I have a number of them who are lining up for a chance to “meet” Miss Jacqueline Manning … and not to get her autograph. At the head of the line is my friend with benefits, Mrs. Carly Danielle Monfort. The Sandbridge catfight legend. That’s right, it may be Cajun Carly vs the Red Riot. Could be interesting …
Welcome to Sandbridge.
Nick Sebastian, July 1987
1
“Niccolo” Sebastian Has a Plan
She was back the next day. Too much fuckin’ time on her hands, I guess. I would be two weeks before Jackie and her former
Days co-star Lucy Trammel started shooting for their new soap, giving them plenty of time to think of new ways to mess with ol’ Mr. Hollywood. Maybe I’m just paranoid – but even paranoiacs can have people out to get them. They were both signed after
Days was cancelled. About time it was – I wrote for that sorry-ass production myself for years. It’s where I met Jackie. Actually, I liked Lucy. She was a veteran actress even at the age of 31 and a real balsy babe. It’s just that when the two of them got together – look out.
Jackie and the boys were staying with Lucy out in Westwood until she got a place of her own. But once again, she’d flown her broomstick to Sandbridge and made her presence known by getting into a loud snarling match with my assistant Marcia Monfort in the ante-office. It ended when I heard Marcia spit out, “I’ll tell Mr. Sebastian you’re here, Miss Manning!”
In she comes, her face red and big brown eyes spitting fire. Marcia is usually very cheerful, but not today. The 18 year-old brunette cutie was in a bad mood anyway, seeing as she’d broken up with her boyfriend Jack this weekend. Now she had to deal with the Red Riot.
“Boss, your fucking ex-wife wants to see you! Oh wow, what … a … bitch! Mom is so totally going to beat the shit out of her!”
“So welcome to my nightmare, girl Friday. What did Miss Congeniality say to you?”
“Well first, she didn’t ask … she demanded to see you! She called me your ‘secretary’ and a ‘little girl’. Then she told me to ‘drag my tits’ into your office and tell you your ‘wife’ is here to see you!”
“I suppose I’d better chew her ass out. In the meantime,” I whispered, knowing Red was listening at the door, “hold your temper with the bitch. I have a diabolical Machiavellian plan. I’ll tell you about it later. Now, open the door real sudden-like and watch what happens. Try not to laugh …”
Marcia finally smiled. I think she believed Machiavelli played right field for the Yankees, but she trusted me. More than I did in fact. At least he and I have the same first name.
As I suspected she would, Jackie nearly fell into my office when Marci snuck up on the door and opened it. She nearly knocked my assistant over as she stumbled in. Marcia slammed the door hard behind her. I could hear her laughing. “I just heard what that little tit-swinging tramp called me! How dare she talk about me that way! Doesn’t she know who I am? I knew you were a horn-dog, but isn’t your trailer park ‘secretary’ too young even for you?”
Red was never more sexy than she was when she was pissed. In a sharp dress that matched her hair, she was 5’4”, 120 pounds of hot fury. At 38, she’d never looked finer. Dark red hair fell below her shoulders and to the middle of her back. Strong arms and legs, nice tan, long red nails and a great figure – probably still 36C-24-34. When she was fired up, her brown eyes would flash and she’d slip into that Jersey accent. After 14 years, I knew how to handle her when she was like this … no time to wimp out.
“For God’s sake, Jackie, shut the fuck up and sit down! First of all, she’s my assistant, not my secretary. I couldn’t do this job without her. Okay, she’s 18, but she’s not a little girl! She’s a Sandbridge woman and a Monfort with all that implies, and that means even though she’s young enough to be our daughter, she lost more catfights than you’ve been in, and she has a winning record! She’d kick your ass all over town, and that’s a fact! You come around here enough you’ll find this ain’t goddam Manhattan, Red. This is Sandbridge, by God! In this place, when a catfight erupts, the cops don’t break it up – they take bets and pictures! If you don’t want your ass-kicked photos all over the
National Enquirer and
People magazine for your new producer to see, watch your step around here and treat people, especially the ladies, with respect!”
Got her attention. Now I knew Marcia was listening at the door. Jackie’s fire faded. “Okay, Nicky. I’ll even be ‘Miss Congeniality’ to your sec … assistant. I don’t need the publicity of a four-square brawl right now. If I don’t choose to fight one of your new ‘friends’, she can’t just start swinging on me can she? Gotta keep the old Manning Irish temper in check, huh?”
“And when were you ever able to do that, Hot Stuff?”
There’s that delightful laugh I fell in love with 15 years ago. “Seriously, fella, I would like to go out on your new town sometime. Look, I know you can’t forget what happened with Chad. You were right – he’s a scumbag. ‘The Golden Boy of the Future’ I think
Soap Digest labelled him back then. Golden Boy my ass … when the fucker wasn’t in rehab, he was in a jailhouse somewhere. Maybe we could start over?”
“I assume you dropped him like you dropped me – a goin’ nowhere writer with a goin’ nowhere soap. Now I have a Golden Globe award and an Emmy nomination. I not only write for a legend in this town – I hang with him. Make lots of contacts with famous people in the business. So we get back together until you seduce one of them, and it’s out the door again. Been there, done that, Red.”
She was shaking her head the whole time. “It’s not like that, Nick! You’ll always be special to me! Look, we can give it a try. If we do, maybe I’ll forget that silly court settlement and you can see the boys more often.”
Boom. There it was. She’ll use my love for my sons as leverage. It’s on now. I’ve never soloed a production – always been an AP. This’ll be my first. I’ll be writer, director and leading man, too. Machiavelli will be *my* AP. It’s show time. I then pulled the trigger.
“I don’t know. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. See where it goes. Why don’t you come by the office next Friday evening? I’ll show you some of the sights around here … maybe go to The Sandbar for drinks. You know, introduce you around.”
Jackie was grinning from ear-to-ear. I could read her mind: Poor sucker had a change of attitude about me once I mentioned the boys, didn’t he? Gotcha you stupid bastard!
We kissed each other good bye. It was a good one. On her way out I heard her humbly apologize to Marcia for her bitchiness, happy as a pig in shit. I reach under the desk, pull out my trusty tape recorder Roscoe, and hit the stop button. Ejecting the tape, I say …
“Gotcha, bitch! Thus it begins. Roll ‘em.”
2
The Jersey Girl and the TV Starlet
Jacqueline Hannah Manning always wanted to be an actress. Not just an actress really – a star. The Paterson, NJ native went to acting school after graduation and did some theater in New York, then moved out to Los Angeles, because that’s where the movie stars were. Jackie knew she’d be one of them. She had a small role or two in soap operas, constantly going to auditions for roles. In 1971 at the age of 23, she tried out for a film produced by the then up-and-coming Drake Coburn. Yes, he knew Jackie before her future husband and Drake’s future lead screenwriter did.
Drake: “I’ll admit, this film wasn’t ever going to win any awards. It wasn’t meant to appeal to critics – it was a made-for-TV film for ABC, low-budget and all that. But we had a fairly big name as a leading man, and I needed a very young actress with a little talent anyway, someone capable of playing a lead and standing up to David Carradine. Someone scrappy. Jackie Manning auditioned and I must say we were pretty impressed. Sure, she was unknown and her only real experience was in soaps and bit roles in sitcoms, but she was a definite possible. I told her we would get back to her (the Kiss of Death in Hollywood – Nick). Then Sarah Craig walked through the door.”
“Sarah Craig” isn’t her real name. She’s a famous movie star now. I know “Sarah” - she’s a great gal and all, but I imagine she’s lawyered up and has a nest of vipers around as publicists, agents and the like. I love my job and want to keep it – better safe than sorry. So “Sarah Craig” it is. It won’t take much imagination to figure out her real name anyway. I drop enough hints. Just not enough that her lawyers will be able to crucify me.
Sarah had been a TV star right out of high school in Van Nuys. A former cheerleader, she was as cute as she could be, and had starred in a pair of cult hit primetime TV sitcoms. Now she was looking to expand into film. She was 25, 5’3” and about 105, slender with 33Bs and a 23” waist. Dark brown shoulder-length hair and a big grin. She had been a tomboy growing up and had a feisty spirit that belied her outward sweetness. Sarah was plenty competitive. Jackie had appeared once in a bit role on Sarah’s last series and they were not friends. They frequently competed in auditions and this one was no exception. As Jackie was leaving Drake’s office, in walked Sarah. The two young actresses exchanged dirty looks.
Red had a real hippie-chick look back then with long wavy hair and a headband. She wore a tie-dyed t-shirt with no bra, designer jeans and sandals. She was a little lighter, maybe 112 with a waist almost as slender as Sarah’s. Sarah was dressed similarly except she was in a black tank top. “Good luck, Sarah. You’ll need it,” sneered Red. “Fuck you, Jackie. Fuck you very much,” replied the brunette with a scowl that turned into a sweet smile as she entered for her audition.
Here’s how Jackie described what happened after Sarah’s audition had ended …
“I’d had it with that little Pasadena beach bunny auditioning for every role I wanted … and getting it. She’d “get it” this time. I was as good of an actress as she was! I’m sure America’s Sitcom Princess had fucked every producer and casting director in town. Even though she was married! Now I wanted to teach the little whore a lesson. I was going to take her someplace and peel her raw. I was going to beat the shit out of her.
I waited in the hallway for Sarah to enter. I took her by the hair and threw her though the door into the ladies room across the hall. I told the bitch what I wanted to do to her and gave her the opportunity to run out bawling her eyes out. I thought she would, but to my surprise and delight, she kicked off her sandals and told me she’d been wanting to kick my no-talent soap opera ass ever since she met me. Boy, we just threw down. I mean, I’d had a couple of fights in high school and I had discovered I liked tearing up some other chick, but I’d never been in anything like this.
I was a catfighter – I loved to slap, scratch, bite and pull hair. But Sarah was a fist fighter. Her step-father was one of the top stuntmen in Hollywood and he must have taught her some stuff. She wailed on me with her hard fists and little monkey feet. I figured this Jersey girl could make a jigsaw puzzle with a couple missing pieces out of the little Gidget, but the first time she gave me a hard shot in the mouth and buried a bare foot in my belly … well fuck me.
She had my shirt off and used my swinging boobs like punching bags. I fought back and slapped the perkiness off her face, got her shirt over her head and off, and made her belch with a couple of fists myself in her cute tummy, but Sarah really worked me over. She landed two or three punches to each one of mine and she started busting me up bad. I’m a redhead and I cut easy. Her bony knuckles were like razors on my face. I was stumbling around, looking for the door, but my eyes were so swollen and full of tears, I couldn’t find it. Craig would just drag me back by the hair and go back to pounding the stink out of me.
We fought half naked, only in our jeans. I managed to get her on the floor and did better down there, pulling the shit out of her hair and digging little half-moons on her rubbery wet face and little boobies with my then-short nails. She did the same to me – my hair was longer and easy to pull. My big tits were in my way and easy targets for her fingers. She was as agile as a monkey and even got her toes in my sweaty face and hair as her hands were scrabbling at my body. Did I mention that she bites? Well she does. I’d never been bitten in a fight before and her teeth tore me up from head to toe. By the time we got to our feet, I was a raggedy, bloody mess. She finished me off with two sickening punches to the belly and a roundhouse right to the jaw. The next thing I remembered, I was praying to the toilet and Sarah was gone.
I was all fucked up and wasn’t right for a week. Goddam Sarah had kicked my Jersey ass and guess who got the part? It wasn’t me, that’s for sure. That catfight freak Drake Coburn rewarded the little whore with her first movie lead and I was on my way back to the soaps. I resolved never again to lose a catfight to some bitch over a part – or for any other reason. I went to the gym regularly, lifted weights and took boxing lessons. I cut my hair shorter, let my nails grow and sharpened them. I took up running to strengthen my endurance. Never again would some bitch keep me from getting what I wanted!”
Here’s Drake’s rebuttal …
“Yes, we went with Sarah. Sometimes talent does come through – and a more impressive resume and reputation always do. Jackie thought we awarded the role to Sarah just because she won the fight? That as you know, Nick, is utter horseshit! That’s how fucked up between the ears she is. Anyone familiar with my style knows I *never* mix business with my … personal passion. Besides, the rest is history. A few years later after another TV movie, Sarah won an Emmy Award for Best Actress and a few years after that, an Academy Award for her brilliant portrayal of a union organizer. I was really proud of my girl when she made that memorable acceptance speech. Yes Sarah, we do like you … we really do like you! <laughs>”
Jackie Manning is still a soap actress … but a better catfighter now. She’d have a chance to prove it and she’d have a witness.
3
The Top Bitch in Green Valley
It was eight years later, 1978. Red was now Jacqueline Manning- Sebastian, with two sons, ages 3 and 1. She was 31, even more of a knockout and married to one of the writers with
As the Days Go By. That writer would be me. We were pretty happy and loved our two little ones. I was a little concerned with Jackie’s attention toward a couple of the young soap studs, especially a new guy named Chad Thoreau, who was devilishly handsome, but who seemed to me to have an IQ barely higher than his age – and he was 28.
Nonetheless, Jackie was now a big fish, albeit in a small pond. This soap wasn’t much, but at least she was the best thing going for it. The “Redheaded Susan Lucci”
Soap Digest had called her. But there was an even bigger fish in the pond, one that had been here since the sixties. Her name was Louise Purcell, and she was the Queen Bee. The best plots, the best lines and the most attention on set. At 43, she was getting toward the age when soap actresses usually were headed toward side plots as moms, wise mentors and such, but she wasn’t going to fade away gracefully. Her ego, pride and bitchiness made her hard to work with and even harder to write for.
I hated myself for having to write romantic scripts involving Louise and young guys like Chad, but a job was a job and with two kids, I wasn’t going to make ends meet doing anything else – not unless I could attract the attention of some Hollywood big shot with one of the screenplays I was writing in my spare time. Jackie didn’t only resent Louise – she loathed the older woman and wanted nothing more to the top bitch in Green Valley, as our fictional town was called.
Louise was still and impressive-looking woman. She was 5’6” and about 122. She kept herself in shape as you would expect a soap star to do. Her medium-sized breasts, about 34Bs, were sagging a little, but she was had an air of self-confidence that made her seem younger and quite attractive. She was famous for her lush dark brown mane of hair: it was all hers but her hairdresser clearly went through a lot of dye. Louise Purcell was a real soap diva, and did not relish the idea of conceding that title any time soon. Especially to that little bitch, Jackie Manning-Sebastian.
It all came to a head one afternoon during taping. Louise’s character “Dina” was supposed to confront Jackie’s “Nurse Robbie” over the latter’s attention toward the hot hospital intern played by Chad. The script called for Dina to slap Robbie’s face. One of the first things any soap actor learns is how to slap somebody silly. You see it all the time. Of course, you’re supposed to miss – just barely. The camera angle would make it look like you landed and they’d add the sound effects. By the time you’re a veteran soap diva, you’re good at this, and Louise was one of the best. She could throw a slap and make it look realistic. On this occasion, she did.
Too fuckin’ realistic.
I mean to tell you what, that slap landed flush upside Jackie’s face and she went flying. I saw it. One of the guys backstage told me he thought he heard a gunshot. Slapped Red into next week. If it hadn’t been my wife, I’d have laughed my ass off. Jackie had a big palm print on her cheek and everything. Now that was no accident. Jackie got up and launched herself at the brunette. It took four guys to tear them apart, me included. Our director was a Danny DeVito-looking guy named Spiridon Androkopoulos. Little Greek bastard thought it was great and aired it that way – up to the point when Red stood up. I knew by the look on both actresses’ faces, it wasn’t over.
4
Jackie Earns Her Nickname
Cut to Sound Stage B that night. It was deserted, except for two actresses familiar to fans of
As the Days Go By. Jackie had me light up the set. We were the only three in the building. I promised her I would leave. Hah!
It was a typical living room set. We weren’t exactly high-budget, so everything was pretty cheap. At least it was carpeted, and I had already pushed must of the furniture to the walls - busted stuff would piss off Spiridon to no end and you didn’t want to see that little Hobbit angry. The ladies would have plenty of floor space to settle things.
Jackie’s cheek was still pink – she was a typical redhead and she bruised and cut easily. Louise’s nails and teeth could be a problem. The wife was seven pounds lighter but was in fantastic shape, twelve years younger and knew how to fight. I’d seen her go off on a blond waitress at The Playwrights Irish Pub on 8th Avenue and 48th Street one night and she was beating the tar out of the girl before other patrons pulled her off. Another time, she’d spent the night in jail after tangling with a “play for pay” gal on 42nd Street – the whore thought Jackie was a competitor working her corner. Not surprising given the way Red dressed sometimes. I wasn’t there for that one. NYPD broke it up. Both times the producer of the soap spent big bucks and called in a few markers to keep it all quiet and out of the tabloids. But she was building a “reputation” – one that led me to nickname her … the Red Riot.
Jackie was in a cut-off red t-shirt and a pair of jeans that she pulled off to reveal a blue thong. Holy shit. Louise removed her white dress to show off her still fine form in a black bikini. She’d obviously been planning for this. Louise had won a slap fight against another veteran soap actress at a party a few years ago after the Daytime Emmys and apparently had given a female director a sound fifteen minute-long thrashing backstage the year before I had arrived. The vets still talked about it, despite a set-wide gag order from the producer. The director had been fired immediately after the bloody catfight and Louise missed a few days of taping.
“Ready to get the ass-kicking of your life, old lady?” grinned Jackie.
“You loathsome little creature! When I’m done with you, you’ll be back walking the streets of Atlantic City where you belong. I’ll pull that curly red shit right out of your empty head!”
“Bring it on, hag!”
And bring it on, Louise did, swinging for Jackie’s taunting face with roundhouse slaps. The quicker Red backed away from a couple and ducked another one. My wife was a left-hander and she began to pester the older, slower Louise with stiff right jabs to the tits and face, moving around her like a boxer. With her face reddening from the hard little fists, Miss Purcell launched herself into Jackie’s short curls and started yanking. Red screamed and replied in kind. The two soap stars engaged in a cursing and squalling hair pulling contest.
Louise was a real hair puller – she had big, strong hands and a height and reach advantage. Her long nails scoured welts into Jackie’s scalp. But the wife had some skill at this sort of thing and Louise’s thick mane of brown hair was just meant to be pulled. Before long, she had the older actress bent over at the waist and howling bloody murder. They went to the carpet and Red really gave her hated rival the business, shaking and twisting, releasing with one hand occasionally to slap and scratch at Louise’s face and tits, her legs trapping one of the soap diva’s and scraping it with toenails. There were strands of brown hair and red curls all over the place - most of them brown. Louise escaped by getting a hand under Jackie’s shirt and twisting one of those big full boobs. And when I say “full” …
Jackie: “That’s right, I was ‘full’. I was still nursing my one year-old, Alex. I probably had no business fighting this old bat now, but I couldn’t help it. That’s why I was wearing a cut-off t-shirt – I had hoped she wouldn’t notice. But when she started mauling and twisting my right tit? Oh my God, did I scream! Her hand came away all milky and shit. She grinned and snarled at the same time – bitch had found my weak spot. I let go of her ratty dyed hair and tried to cover up. She slapped my face hard twice, then pulled my shirt up over my groggy head. This hateful old fart called me a moo-cow and fastened her filthy mouth onto my sore milk bag and went to town on me. She squeezed and sucked. I cried out in humiliation more than pain. Actually it felt pretty good, I’m ashamed to say. But the idea of having a grown woman – one that I hated – drinking from me like that? I just clutched her hair and bawled like a baby, begging her to stop. The more I begged, the more she sucked. Just nasty. I just hoped she wouldn’t use her teeth.”
I was hiding in the dark behind a slat and I was watching the whole damn thing. The sight of the star of
As the Days Go By drinking from my groaning and half-naked wife’s chest like our baby, with Jackie’s legs wrapped around her waist and hands tangled in each other’s sweaty hair was … indescribable. Woody was out of control. I knew I should try to stop it, but my feet were planted in hardening cement. What the fuck.
Jackie’s hope didn’t last long. After her deep sucking failed to draw any more milk from the younger woman’s right tit, Louise sank her bridgework into the now sagging breast around the hardened nipple and Red screeched in pain. She pulled the gasping face of Purcell off of it by the hair, only to receive a spray of milk and saliva in her face from the brunette. Red wiped and released her body lock and the two scrambled to their feet. Jackie examined the teeth marks on the hanging tit with a “you fucking bitch!” Louise laughed at her wiping the taste of her enemy from her mouth. “You taste good, sweetie. I bet you feel better now. I’ll suck off that other one after I beat you senseless.” Jackie growled and launched herself at the older woman, only to catch a brutal slap across the face that buckled her knees.
Louise landed a stiff punch to the wife’s still full left tit which sent more milk flying, then slapped her hard again. Jackie stumbled backwards into the wall. But as Louise closed in, red claws extended and reaching for her face, she came back with a solid roundhouse kick which whacked into the older actress’s bare ribcage. Louise grunted and bent over to her left. A big left slap from the redhead cracked into the side of her face and now it was the taller woman’s turn to stagger back. An enraged Jackie caught her by the hair, put her into a headlock and hip-tossed her to the carpet. She stomped Louise in the tits and yanked off her top. Red picked her up off the floor by the 34Bs and plowed the woman’s boobs like a field, enjoying the screams. Louise shook her by the hair and stopped the mauling with a solid head butt to the forehead that raised a knot and crossed Jackie’s brown eyes. Her knee came up into my wife’s hard belly, then she stomped on her toes. Still grasping her enemy’s red curls, Miss Purcell chewed on the welted forehead until blood ran.
“Ahhhh! Bitch!” blurted Jackie, feeling blood drip down her face. I’d seen actresses in catfights before, and I’ve seen plenty more since. The one thing they hate more than anything else is to have their faces marked up. They make a living with those. Arms, legs, backs, stomachs and even tits … okay. But not the face. This bitch had crossed the line with Jackie … I knew my wife well enough to know she’d make Louise pay. The brunette was still gnawing on her forehead when Red came up with the left Uppercut from Hell into the older gal’s bare belly.
Louise was in great shape, but there was a little paunch just below her navel and Jackie found it. She always said she’d look for a woman’s weak spot in a catfight and go for it. Her small fist sank to the wrist in there and Louise made a gasping, croaking sound that finished with an unladylike wet belch. Her arms wrapped her stricken middle, her eyes bugged out and her mouth was working like a fish out of water. Jackie slowly dragged her sharp pink nails down both cheeks of the sickened older woman, making sure she drew blood. She dug both hands into her now stringy hair and chewed on her nose in payment for her bleeding forehead bite. Another left fist to the belly, a right cross to the eye and an uppercut to the jaw with her dominant left followed. Louise dropped like a ton of bricks.
Jackie was all over her. She tied to woman in knots on the carpet – wrenching arms and legs, cranking on her head and neck and applying a cruel hold by grabbing her left wrist and ankle, planting a foot in her ribs and pulling back on both limbs. She then wrapped both fine legs around the beaten woman’s heaving trunk and squeezed. Louise gasped, groaned and wheezed as she suffered from the pressure of those crushing thighs. One of Louise’s arms was trapped and Jackie controlled the wrist of the other with one hand, allowing her free one to maul the shit out of her. She clawed at her dropping tits, dug around inside her mouth and pulled out a fistful of Louise’s crowning glory.
By the time Red was done with the woman, Miss Purcell was a beaten, bedraggled mess, half-conscious and gasping for air. She finally unwrapped and left her enemy lying there and bleeding all over the carpet. Jackie then decided to give the Queen a “queening”.
Jackie: “What could I do to this bitch to make her realize I was the better woman? I stepped out of my thong and sat right on her goddam face, that’s what! I planted my cxnt right on her mouth and made her lick! Gave me time to catch my breath and check out the damage. She wasn’t a great eater – she was a much better tit-sucker. But eat she did and it was fantastic! I gave her a little lovin’ myself – I reached back and worked on her labia. I pulled her pubes, got inside and scratched around in there. I was just killing her. I can’t think of anything worse a woman can do to another than to sit on her fucking face and make her lick while clawing up her innards. I don’t know what I’d do if it happened to me. I wasn’t ever going to find out if I could help it. I just shamed this old hag. I knew she’d never be the same again and I was damn proud of myself. Who’s the Queen of the Valley now, you broken-down, cxnt-licker!”
Okay. I lied. I hadn’t left – I’d seen everything but Jackie certainly forgave me. Despite her aches and pains, we had the greatest sex of our marriage that night. But the next day, I paid for it in spades. I had to work overtime re-writing scenes and modifying plotlines. It seems that “Dina” had an “auto accident” and with the exception of a few bandaged-up hospital scenes in a coma, she was never seen on
Days again. The beating and humiliation of the actress who played her at the hands of the younger diva caused her to quit the soap a week later. Needless to say, “Dina” never awoke from her coma. Where is Louise Purcell today? Last I saw, she was doing infomercials for some TV station in Indianapolis, hawking skincare products. Jacqueline Manning-Sebastian was the new star of the series.
A year and a half later, she’d kicked me to the curb. Now it was time to kick back …
5
Stan “The Man” Provides Some Insight
About a month or so ago, my girl Friday Marcia had convinced me the ladies of the town would like someplace isolated in town so they could settle their differences in private if they wanted. With Drake’s approval (and funding) we decided to turn my old office in room #215 of the newspaper building into an “exercise room” after I moved into a larger office one floor up. It’s now ready – padding on the walls, mats on the floor, extra sound-proofing and brackets in each of the four ceiling corners for camera placement – in case the ladies wanted a record of the “discussion”. The electrical contractor, dressed in grey coveralls with the patch that read “Stan” on his chest, had just finished the camera installation and he was sitting in my office discussing business.
My contractor was one Stan “The Man” Radevic, former LAPD detective tossed off the force for brutality. He was an expert electrician who specialized in cameras, sound equipment, wire taps and other surveillance devices. This came in handy in his other profession – as a licensed private investigator. I’d hired Stan in the past, and while I always felt like taking a fucking shower after talking with him, I knew he was a thorough professional in everything he did. He would do anything for money and do it well. Rumor had it that for an exorbitant price, he’d put someone to sleep for you. Permanently.
I didn’t need to have anyone whacked today – just cameras installed. Of course there was that other little job Stan’s been doing for me over the last week or so. I wanted to know everything my ex-wife Jackie had been up to since she came to town. Drake had promised me he’d pay Stan’s steep fees all himself. He had as little use for Red as I did. Mr. Radevic had plenty to say today.
“You’ll love these new cameras. I know the industry standard is Beta, and these are VHS. But trust me, five years from now, no one will fuckin’ remember what Beta was. I still have some wiring to do, but when I’m done, you’ll be able to tape a real masterpiece. Edit it and all that shit. Oh yeah, I might as well tell you … your ex is a real bitch from Hell.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know, Stan.”
“Okay. Well, I’ve been askin’ around. I faked credentials sayin’ I’m a reporter for
Variety researching a possible article on the new star on
Edge of Darkness. Assholes in your business sure like to talk. Her goddam agent is a real motor-mouth for the right price.” I’m trying to suppress a laugh as I imagine this broken-nosed knuckle-dragger as an entertainment reporter, but I’ve known him long enough to be certain he’s clever enough to pull it off. And I know Jackie’s agent Adnan “Shady” Habib. Stan was right. “The only good thing I can say about her other than she has a nice ass is that she seems to be a good mom to your boys. Anyway, a lot of people around the set ain’t thrilled to see her here. With her temper, she’s pissed off half the cast and crew and she hasn’t even started shooting yet. Most figure they know how she got the job.”
“She screwed the producer?”
“Close. Somebody at network, actually. Can’t prove it, but that’s the word. Seems she’s mentioned her private life to a few of them including that fuckwad agent of hers. She wants to get her ex-husband back in line now that he’s a hotshot writer. It’ll give her a chance to meet some movie star or something and make lots of dough for her and her agent. If she’s gotta use the boys she’ll do it. It’s all about her career for this whore, and she’s not as young as she used to be. Runnin’ out of time. In the meanwhile, she’s already got her eyes on some young stud on her new soap to make a boy-toy outta him. Dude’s so young he’s gonna play her fuckin’ son for Christ’s sake! I mean, I may be a sick fuck myself, but that’s a little messed up even for me.”
“That’s my Red. Somewhere along the line, she came to the conclusion that career advancement meant using and abusing people. She still thinks the only reason she’s not Sarah Craig is because she got beat out, and beat up, by her years ago. Jackie thinks she’s the one who should be winning awards and fucking Burt Reynolds – not Sarah. I don’t suppose it’s ever crossed her mind to take acting lessons.”
“Got yourself a real winner, Nick. I know I’m paid for work and info, not for my fuckin’ opinion, but I’ll give it to ya’ for free – if you ever get back with this man-eating harpy, you get what you deserve …”
“That’ll be the day. Say Stan … maybe I can hook you up with her!”
Even he had to laugh at the idea of this scheming soap star becoming the third Mrs. Stan Radevic. Or was it the fourth? “No thanks, pal! I have two exes of my own and they’re wearin’ me out already. Do you know my second one swapped my wedding ring with some fucker for $200 worth of smack? I had fun gettin’ that straightened out. No I didn’t kill the bastard – I just broke both his legs, stole his money and flushed his stash down the crapper. I was in too good of a mood, I guess. After all, I did get my ring back.”
Hoo boy, was I glad there was a knock on the door. In pokes the smiling face of Mrs. Sue Ann West. The 44 year-old editor-in-chief of the
Sandbridge Examiner was a friend of Marcia‘s and mine and she was a middle-aged blond hardbody. I had promised the man-hungry, catfight-loving Sue Ann a tour of room #215 and she was on her lunch break. I introduced her to Stan the Man, describing him only as my electrical contractor. He says, “Well, I need to be going. Nick, I’ll be back later to finish the wiring for the video. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, pal!” It was our private joke. We both knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do. “Nice seeing you again, Mrs. West,” he said with a chuckle as he left the office.
Sue Ann cocked her head, a puzzled look on her bird-like features. “Seeing me again? I don’t recall meeting him before.”
“Oh I’m sure he’s seen you around somewhere,” I said. Yeah, no kidding. He knows your license plate number, has pictures and everything. He probably jacks off to the photos at night (see
Country Club Chaos: the McCalls and the Wests). “Ready for the tour?”
6
The Cajun Sensation
Sue Ann and I walked down the stairs to the second floor and down the hall to room #215. I didn’t have to unlock the wooden door … to my surprise it was open. Inside were my assistant Marcia and her mother Carly Monfort. Marci greeted the blonde with a hug and introduced her to her mom.
I must say I’d been anticipating this moment for a long time. Almost every report I’d sent to Drake’s office featured one or the other of these flirtatious catfighters. Two alpha females if there ever were ones. My girl Friday and I had a bet going. I had put up twenty bucks that these two women, the only two with whom I’d been, uh … intimate since coming here, would hate each other instantly. Marcia took me up on it – she was sure her mother and her unlikely older friend from downstairs would like each other. We both agreed, however, that some time down the line, they’d have to beat the shit out of each other, if for no reason than for the hell of it.
Looks like I owe my girl a twenty spot. They were all genuine smiles and their handshake actually turned into a big hug. It was mutual “Love your hair/shoes/earrings!”, “I’ve always wanted to meet you!” and “Marcia’s told me so much about you!” Marci winked at me and I reached into my wallet. While the two gushed over each other, Marcia and I admired the ominous inert lenses staring down at us from each corner of the old office.
This had been Miss Monfort’s project from the beginning and I was mighty proud of her. Her nineteenth birthday was coming up and I needed to make sure I gave her a big bonus as a present. There was plenty of floor space for the activities planned for our new “exercise room”. The padding and mats would limit collateral damage and you could almost fire a .44 Magnum in here without the sound travelling outside the room. Once the cameras were functional, I’d be able to see what was going on by watching the monitors Stan Radevic had installed in my office. Perfect! Now to christen the place properly, I needed the classic catfight. Marcia and I both knew who we needed to invite.
I had discussed my master plan with the Monforts just the day before at lunch. They loved it.
Carly Danielle Boudreaux-Monfort was a 43 year-old widow from the bayou country of Louisiana. She had a shaggy mane of black curls that framed an attractive suntanned face. When she smiled, it was a grin that would light any dark room. When she scowled, watch the fuck out. She was 5’3” and had dropped about five pounds over the last couple of months down to about 122 due to a diet and exercise regimen. She was in great shape. Her 36Cs have yet to show their age. She was a real Cajun bundle of dynamite.
I won’t go heavy into her background here. (see
Meet the Monforts: Carly for more). Suffice it to say that the only thing she loved more than men and a great catfight was her little girl. She was a catfight legend in a town that stood out regarding this sort of thing. She didn’t always win, but never failed to give a great account of herself. The medical technologist at Sandbridge General was highly intelligent and her equally talented daughter called her a “catfight scientist”. Her cockiness sometimes caused her problems in a fight and I had warned her about that if her next one was against who I thought it would be. That gal was dangerous. I knew this better than anybody – it was my ex-wife Jackie.
“You sure you want to do this?” I had asked.
“Are you kidding? Nick, I’ve never wanted to fight some bitch I’ve never met, more in my life! From the moment you told me how she left you, I’ve felt her hair in my hands! And after Marci told me how the whore treated her when they first met? Sorry, pal. Her ass is mine!”
“Okay. But we have to do this right. Jackie’s a celebrity. A minor one, but a celebrity just the same. She has lawyers up the wazoo. We have to stick to the script. She has to want a big piece of you, too. And just kicking her ass in and of itself isn’t going to be enough to derail her plans. It has to be done up proper. Katie and the boys and girls at The Sandbar are all on board. I’ve got Drake, Marcia, even Stan - all of them in on it. This is going to be one helluva production. It needs to be.”
There’s that big grin. “You got it, mister! My first role as leading lady in a Hollywood production. Love it! Let’s rock …”
CONTINUED BELOW...
