“Why have you dragged me to the dairy section of Ralph’s?” Hollywood complains, “I don’t recall any scene in your book taking place in a supermarket.”
“I want you to look at this milk carton,” I hand Hollywood a quart of milk.
“You want to do a product placement deal for ‘While I’m Dead…Feed The Dog” with a dairy? Might be a good idea, we could have Nina and you washing down Yoshi’s Frozen Microwavable Sushi with…”
“No! I want you to look at this picture on the milk carton. See – there is a picture of a missing person.”
“What the fuck do I care about missing people? They don’t go to movies” Hollywood begrudgingly picks up the carton. “Hey, this picture looks a lot like you. Do you have a twin?”
“It is fucking me. It says Ric Thibault, age 16, last seen being lured into a movie producer’s office.”
“You didn’t have to pay them for this advertising did you? We don’t have the budget…”
“I didn’t pay them anything. But don’t you see, you changed my name from ‘Thibault’ to ‘Stevens’ and now they think I’m missing.”
“I’ve told you a million times, no one likes the French, and even worse no one likes little pricks named ‘Thibault’; and I didn’t lure you into my office. It’s not like I offered you some non existent candy and a ride home.”
“No you offered me non existent money and artistic satisfaction,” I point out, “I don’t have any money and I’m definitely not satisfied.”
“Let me ask you something. You’re an artist right?” Hollywood asks.
“I don’t paint pictures of dead fat people, or throw up on a canvas, so I’m not an artist in the traditional sense.”
“But you’re a writer and a wannabe rock star, that’s being an artist isn’t it?” Hollywood tries flattering me.
“I guess so.”
“And this milk tastes okay, doesn’t it?”
“It might – if I could afford it, on what you gave me.”
“So if I decided to buy it for you, you’d drink it?” Hollywood asks, pulling out his seldom seen wallet.
“And if you were really thirsty, like after eating a box of Yoshi’s Frozen Microwavable Sushi, I’d bet it would be really satisfying too, wouldn’t it?”
“Anything that washed away the taste of Yoshi’s Frozen Microwavable Sushi would be satisfying.”
“Then here’s two bucks, and a carton of milk with your picture on it. I’ve made you rich and famous and there you have it. I rest my case. I’ve given you your fucking artistic satisfaction and money to boot. So stop you’re whining and drink your fucking milk.”