Runs In My Stalkings

(the scene: LCM in the corner booth is handed a note by the waiter)

LCM: (giving the once-over) Oh hello, sweetie - yes, I'd like another pitcher, thanks - I'm parched to my atoms, sweetie - I was in court all day - Mumsey's latest trial, you see - and they frown on open liquor in the courtroom as it turns out. (pausing, taking note) Oh - what's all this then? (reading)...

Note: Oh and please let me know your schedule for the next month, where you'll be every hour of every day. You see, I'm a bit of a lazy stalker.Love and kisses,YHOS (Your Highly Official Stalker)

LCM: (lips pursed) Oh now really, darling - you're not very good at this - I mean you handed it right to me. (pausing, noticing the waiter shrug and walk away) Oh. Perhaps you didn't write it then. (blink blinking) Well then that narrows the field considerably, I would assume - because I know he's had his eye on me since the moment I woke up a while ago. (patting wig, sipping cocktail) Well I don't know what to think now. Perhaps I'd better call Princess.

(LCM shakes his wig til the flip phone falls out - dials and purses his lips in anticipation)

LCM: (lips pursed) Hello? Princess? It's me, sweetie - LCM. Hmmm? (glaring) Oh how rude - how on earth am I supposed to know what time it is - I'm at the Boom Boom Room, sweetie - the nearest thing to natural light is the sheen off Mumsey's ass at the bar. (pausing) Well she's out on bail and wearing something daring. Hmmm? Well I dared her to wear it, actually - it's one of those unusual wall hangings from your front hall, sweetie. Hmmm? Plant hanger? Oh? Well it looks fabulous - she's wearing the hell out of it as we speak. (glancing) Oh, and now that I notice, the plant itself has never looked lovelier. (patting wig) In any event, darling, I've had another note from my stalker - they want to know my schedule for the next month - should I tell them? (listening) Really? Do you think that's wise? I mean, they may be deranged or they might be a total bore. I don't want to risk being bored, sweetie - you know what happened on the opening day of Mumsey's latest trial and I was fined for flirting with the reporter from the Bollywood Reporter. We're very big in India, Mumsey and me - our last three musicals broke box office windows, I'm told. (patting wig) Rude! Believe me, there were no refunds given, darling - and press is press - I just wanted to let him know I was available for *indepth* interviewing, and my attempts at pantomime failed me, I suppose. (glaring) Now look - that's just mean - and after all I've done to help salvage your withered career - if it weren't for me, sweetie, you wouldn't have all those stories on smokinggun.com and America's Most Wanted wouldn't be stationed at your front door every day asking about those missing virgins. (glaring) Oh how ungrateful - I'm hanging up, darling - you're obviously in a downward spiral of madness and bad fashion - I'll be over for breakfast if a certain waiter doesn't offer me something better. Ta, sweetie.

(hanging up, calling the waiter over)

LCM: (glancingly again) Tell my stalker I'm in court all month, sweetie - if they want to see me, I've got a 3 PM televised bitch fight with Nancy Grace tomorrow afternoon followed by drinks on Larry King in the evening. I'll be the one drinking and screaming at callers to hang up because I'm waiting to hear from my agent and we can't tie the lines up like that. (patting wig) After tomorrow, it's all a big blur. (leafing through day book dejectedly) I spilled a drink or two too many on this, I guess. (tossing it away, focussing on the waiter again) Now about us, darling - Mumsey and I are wearing matching plant hangers and you've clearly been pruning me with your eyes all evening. (patting wig) So what Dorothy Parker said about horticulture is completely wrong - believe me, I'm drinking plenty.

Tossing Head Back And Laughing And Looking Fabulous
{{{{{LCM}}}}}
Centre of the Known Universe

A Visit From Mrs. Machiabelly

(the scene: LCM in the corner booth after having taped a ratty cocktail with the list of Machiabelly's potential birthday party themes over the bar for people to on - Caligirl waltzes in, reads the list and charges over, carrying drinks)

Caligirl: (kindly) ROFLOL..........OMFG!!!! not sure which i like the best. let me know... so i dress appropriatly for my hubby big gala. such a sweetie for taking charge of the festivities.

LCM: (smiling, accepting *all* the drinks) Oh now really, sweetie - you're far too kind, darling - you know I adore a good party, and the most essential ingredient in a good party is the planning. (patting wig) Now I know you're new to these parts, so you haven't been to his many, many flops of yore. I mean, did you know he once threw a party to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the introduction of metric? (lips pursed) The drinks all came in very small beakers, sweetie - it took me hours to get three hectares to the wind, I swear it did. (rolling eyes) Oh, and god - the new year's eve debacle of 1997 - no television, no clocks - just the microwave - we all had to sit around going by that, and he hadn't set it, darling, so it was midnight the whole evening - after about an hour we were so sick of singing Auld Lang Syne, I started slapping people til we had a rousing rendition of Oh Canada, but none of us knew the words, really - too many thee's and thou's - I told them to shut up and did my Petula Clark medley for three hours. (sipping cocktail) By the time that was done, it was well into 1997 and (using quotey fingers) "the other man's grass" was long gone. (patting hand, smiling) But I'm sure this will be much better, sweetie. (nodding knowingly) LCM doesn't put his name to anything less than fabulous, sweetie - it's sure to be the social event of the season!

Patting Wig, Drinking Lots Of Drinks
{{{{{LCM}}}}}
Centre of the Known Universe