It Was Inevitable

“Tell me more about Mickey.”

“He’d play teenaged girls like bongos most nights. Although to his credit, he would also do that to older women, and men, and everyone. He’s got a thing.”

“Drums.”

“Yes.”

“Amazing. What else do you know about the Grateful Dead that would retroactively ruin their reputations?”

“There was a lot of white slavery.”

“I think calling it ‘white slavery’ is kinda racist nowadays.”

“Hey, man: it’s an interview. I’m gonna say some racist stuff. My fans demand it.”

“Do they?”

“I’m huge with the passive bigot market.”

“Great. More about the slavery.”

“White slavery.”

“Whatever.”

“They had a whole operation in the 70’s. I think Rakow was in charge. They’d sell runaways to sheikhs, stuff like that.”

“Fascinating.”

“Are we gonna talk about me soon?”

“Very soon. Now let’s discuss Bob Weir.”

HEY!

“Ah, shit.”

“Fuck.”

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“I had to see whether he was prettier than me. I had to see with my own eyes.”

Why are you making that face?

“Oh, fuck off. You’re the one who takes the screenshots.”

Listen, man, I try to keep you out of danger–

“You sic dinosaurs on me all the time.”

–but I will remove my hands from around if you keep talking to Ronan Farrow. You will be like Job.

“I no longer fear you.”

You don’t? Watch this. Hey, Ronan!

“Yes?”

Why are you making that face?

“I’m not making any face.”

I know. You’re just an angel of a man.

“Well, thank you, but it’s about the work.”

Keep being modest while looking like that and I’m gonna cum. Just a warning.

“That happens a lot. Most people don’t give me the heads-up. Appreciate it.”

Sure. Rosebud?

“Don’t call me that.”

You snuck around my back. You said you were dropping the Grateful Dead story.

“I was, I was. But you remember that you sent some sort of vampire emu at me?”

It was a draculostrich, but go on.

“Whatever it was called. Well, it killed me. Ripped my chest open with one its claws. Bled out right there.”

How terrible.

“And then I am rescued from death. Not through divine intercession, but by a man named Benjy Eisen. He was driving a racecar.”

Yeah, that’s how death works around here. Did he shake you down?

“He’s my manager now.”

Sounds like Benjy.

“Anyway, I figured that you couldn’t kill me, so why listen to you? I’m gonna do the story and you can’t stop me.”

I probably can’t. But he can.

“Who?”

HELLO, SAMMY DAVIS JUNIOR, JUNIOR.

“Yaah!”

I NEED TO BORROW YOUR NOSE.

“This is not how a Yalie is supposed to be treated!”

AND YOUR SKIN. I NEED YOUR SKIN, TOO.