Please be gentle, coz it's my *ahem* first time. But feedback's definitely much appreciated.PURELY BUSINESS – a crappy parody of the romance novel
“ I pray thee, relinquish thyself to me,” commanded the dark swarthy pirate, “ before ‘tha violate the sanctity of thy iron gates of Life, and worship thy honeyed wells, as a man should….” Brandishing a shiny scimitar he gave a shout of laughter tinged with the red of lust and anticipation….. Viola Mathison looked in despair, her face the picture of fear and desperation as she valiantly held onto the last vestiges of her shredded bodice, trying in vain to shield her naked body from the staring crimson-veined eyes of Darkstar Bloodthroat, her captor.
“Brute!! Get thy filthy paws off me lest thou suffer the vengeance of Heaven! My bethrothed the Earle of Claymore shall avenge my dishonour and flay thy skin til thou’st regret thy mother ever did partake in the sport that sired her whoreson!!!” Viola cried, her voice slowly but surely gaining the confidence that accompanied her growing resolve. She would protect her honour the only way she could. There was no other way out.. Muttering a last prayer to her Maker Viola clenched her teeth and bashed her brains out against the ship mast, her hands still holding onto her tattered bodice in a vice-like grip even in the agonizing throes of death…..
“CUT!”
The cast and crew of The Violated Maiden threw their hands up and whooped for joy as the director gave the green light for the final scene. It was the long overdue day everybody had been waiting for. The Violated Maiden was the costliest film ever to be made in Hollywood B-movie history, at a budget of fifty million dollars and still rising. Starring the luscious Merilee Nash and rising Hispanic star Erikk de Lafuhar, the current favourites of B-movie producers, the film looked set to sweep the straight-to-video industry by the storm, with its exotic sets and raw Nordic passion.
“ Bloody fantastic job, Mer! You were fan-fuckin-tastic, as it were!! If this doesn't get you a Best actress nod, I don't know what will!”
“Oscar material, if you ask me!! Too bad they don’t give out those lil gold men to Rated Artistic gems!! Haha!!”
“ Yo Johnnie! Wanna know the expected profits of The Violated Maiden? I’d tell ya, it’s gonna be huge, megalomania huge! Do you think Nora Epstein will option this film?”
"This is superb. Zirconium is fetching on you, but of course they'll never replace deBeers. Hmm, wonder if that two-bit floozy's gonna wear that abfab Gucci pitfot to the Golden Globes..."
Merilee stood in the midst of the boisterous crowd, looking coldly at the swirling festivities around her. Plates of exquisite hors ’oeuvres changed hands merrily, while flutes of bubbly made their way down thirsty throats. She had no wish to join in such inane activities, to partake in such excesses; she longed to head home and enjoy a relaxing bubble bath and indulge in Harry Connick Jr’s finest. Regrettably, she had no choice in the matter. She was paid not only for her services as an actress, but also for her feminine charms – a delightful distraction for sponsors who might have prior misgivings about financing such an ambitious project. It was after all, business. And there was the matter of Erikk. Hot, passionate Erikk.
“ Thinking of me, my darling?” a low, manly voice whispered softly by Merilee’s ear, his breath gently caressing her senses, sending shivers up her spine. She tried to ignore the rippling sensations but it was futile. She felt her knees growing weak. She’d lost, this time round, fair and square, for her body could not betray her any further. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for yet another emotional onslaught. The battle hath begun.
“We have nothing to say to each other. What happened was purely business!”
“BS! You know it’s not true, mon chere! I felt the attraction and so did you, ‘else you wouldn’t have walked away as you did!”
“Really? And which part of your ego, may I so rudely presumed, relayed that morsel of information to your oxygen-starved brain? A testosterone overload, perhaps?”
“ Don’t you play word games with me! There is something, a spark somewhere hidden in that ice-queen façade of yours! And I’m determined to find it! You belong to me!”
“ Oh puh-leez, spare me that over-rated sentimentality! I belong to no one. I dictate my life as I please, without interference from anybody nor anyone!! Not even Love can penetrate my life unless I dictate it. You’re purely business, Erikk, nothing more. Don’t read anything into the kisses and honeyed words, they’re merely preparation for the film! You’re a professional, for Christ’s sake! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”
“I’ll leave you alone, if you can prove to me you feel nothing for this!!”
Merilee felt her resolve crumble into nothingness as Erikk captured her lips in a fierce, sensual, masterful kiss. Oh what the hell, she thought, love ain’t gotta do with the swirling primal emotions building in her loins….. this is sex. Period. Or is it? Erikk’s kisses never seemed so tender this very moment. And it’s high time to finish that box of ancient condoms by her bedside. Wait! Not here! Inside! Set 4! The one with the Persian rugs, where Claymore seduced her!
With that last coherent thought, Merilee Nash threw caution to the wind.
************
THE DAY AFTER
Shaken out of her supine repose, Merilee drew the blankets up to her chin and gaze affectionatly at a half-awakened Erikk, idly tracing with a finger, the contours of his chiselled mien with the adoration of a woman besotted. The finger gradually wandered southward, into furry fiefdom. That finally drew Erikk's attention. They gazed at each other for several indeterminate moments before Merilee finally ventured to speak.
"Last night was wonderful."
"Last night wasn't. You are."
"Aww.. you're sweet."
"I'd rather you call me n-n-nasty! Grrrr!"
"Well, do you think they bought the act?"
"Honey, the whole of LA saw you ramming your tongue down my throat. And I'm pretty sure that pesky whatshisname from the Hollywood Harlots caught the 5-minute smoochfest on tape. If he didn't, I'm betting fifty that 15 other journos are penning lurid, second-by-second narratives on our alleged romance."
"Good. Afterall, we DID spend pratically the whole of wrap-up planning this particular escapade. I wouldn't want all our efforts to go to waste. I've got my eye on that Bruckheimer script on blodd-suckin' circuit crunching cyborgs."
"I know, darling. Don't give a rat's ass about it. Speaking of which, I've got my own ass to seek. In fact, I'm gonna pick my cell and call..."
"Erikk, who's it now? Britney? Pink? The Olsen twins? You know the rules.. no underaged kids. That's a definite career killer. Look what happened to R. Kelly!"
"Honey. I know you're a superb actress, but don't you think that's wallowing into melodrama already? Besides, I'm gay. Into men. The whole meatstick-and-two-veg deal. Remember?"
"Oh yeah. So who's it now? John? Holbo? Raphael?"
"Christ... don't you have your own flowers to pick? I seem to remember a certain mousy young woman hanging around your apartment recently.."
"Oh cut it out. We all got our closets to hide. If I'm gonna rot in it I'm making sure it's big, comfy and roomy. With the best satin sheets available. So there!"
"Ok, ok, just chill. It wouldn't hurt to be a lil PC. So how about we each get our own R&R and get back tonight, say, umm... 7 pm? I'll make sure the guys from the Newpaper, the Star and the Tribune make their appearence at 6.45. Just in time to catch you entering my apartment!"
"Thanks sweetie, for everything. You'll get a big gift this Christmas, I promise. Isn't it swell how it's working out for our careers? We're consummate professionals! Everything's purely business."
"Yeah. Purely business. Shoo, remember muss up your hair, and don't forget to walk funny. That's important. Walk funny. You understand?"
"You big fuzzy fusspot. I geddit. See ya later"
"Ta."
Edited by: peebrain at: 11/5/03 4:28 pm
Please continue writing, I wanna know what happens.
Do continue writing and hope to read an update soon