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"We can't produce music that way," Jake said, "and we can't perform music that way. It has to stop. Both of you need to make a choice."

"What choice?" Darren asked.

"As of this moment," Matt said, "we are reinstating the rules of the band as they existed back in the D Street West days. There will be no more drug use or alcohol use for four hours prior to any rehearsal or performance."

Darren and Coop looked at each other, both licking their lips nervously.

"I guess we can live with that," Coop said.

"Yeah," Darren muttered. "I guess."

"That's not all though," Matt said.

"It's not?" asked Darren.

"No," Matt said. "That only applies to the normal drugs like coke and pot, and to the booze and beer. You can keep doing those things as much as you want on your own time. If it becomes a problem, we'll discuss it then. But the heroin, you need to give that up completely."

"Completely?" Darren said.

"You mean, like, for good?" Coop asked.

"For good," Jake said. "It's a little too heavy-duty of a drug. You guys can't control yourselves when you're on it. It has to go."

"But the pain in my ear..." Darren started.

"Take some fuckin' aspirin like everyone else," Matt said.

"Aspirin doesn't help!"

"Look," said Jake. "It's very simple. You can keep doing heroin if you want, but you're not going to be a member of this band if you do. We had a little something thrown into the new contract with you two in mind. National will pay for rehab services for any band member who needs it. You two definitely need it. We've made arrangements for both of you to check into the Betty Ford Center day after tomorrow and go through their heroin program. They'll give you methadone and wean you through the worst of the withdrawals. When you get out you can go back to smoking weed and snorting coke and drinking booze, you can even drop acid if you want, as long as you don't do it in the four hour window before a rehearsal or a show. But you need to stay away from the heroin. Forever. If you go back to it we'll find out and we'll kick you out. That's the deal."

"That's totally fucked up!" Darren yelled, enraged.

"Yep," said Matt, "but then life is pretty fucked up, isn't it?"

The next morning Jake drove over to Matt's condo and picked him up for their next post-contract mission, one that both of them were looking forward to. Jake found Matt drinking a bottle of beer and using the liquid to wash down half a dozen small orange pills.

"What are you taking?" he asked, slightly alarmed by the sheer number of the pills Matt had ingested.

"I ain't offing myself," Matt said. "It's a urinary tract analgesic."

"A urinary tract analgesic? What are you taking that for? You got the clap again?"

"No, I ain't got the fuckin' clap. I learned from the first time. This shit is a real interesting drug though. It's called Pyridium."

"Pyridium?" Jake asked. "What does it do?"

"I got it from this bitch I was fucking last month," he said. "She had a bladder infection."

"You were fucking a girl with a bladder infection?" Jake asked, appalled.

Matt shrugged. "What's the difference? A pussy is a pussy. You just don't eat her out."

"I suppose," Jake said. "So did she give you her bladder infection?"

"No, I used a rubber, like always. It's the side-effect of the pill that I'm after."

"What side effect? Does it get you high?"

"Naw," he said. "It turns your piss bright orange."

Jake nodded slowly. "And you want your piss to be bright orange for what reason?"

"You'll see," he said. "I've been taking six of them every four hours since yesterday. It's working real well."

"Uh huh," Jake said, shaking his head. Sometimes Matt's train of thought was just a little too winding for him to follow. "Well, should we go then?"

"Yep," Matt agreed. "Let's fuckin' do it."

They drove to Hollywood, parking in front of the Hedgerow Building where Ronald Shaver, their so-called manager, kept his office. They rode up to the twenty-second floor and checked in with Trina, his beautiful secretary. She told them to go right in. Mr. Shaver was expecting them.

"Boys," he greeted as they closed the office door behind them. "Good to see you. I was kind of surprised when Trina told me you'd asked for an appointment. So what brings you out here today?"

They hadn't talked to Shaver in months, not since he'd called them several times, at National's request, to try to convince them to drop their little plan of blackmailing the record company into renegotiating. Once the actual renegotiation began, they hadn't heard word one from him.

"We have good news, Shaver," Jake said. "We just signed a new contract with National Records yesterday."

"A new contract?" he asked, surprised. He then smiled. "I heard rumors about that but every time I called my contacts at National they denied them. So it was true? You really did get them to renegotiate?"

"We really did," Matt said. "They caved into us and re-vamped the whole fuckin' deal."

"Yep," said Jake. "We're gonna be pulling in eighteen percent royalties now based on full retail rate. What do you think about that?"

"Outstanding!" Shaver said, delighted, his mind undoubtedly already going over his cut of that. "When does it take effect?"

"It took effect yesterday afternoon," Jake said. "Our advances should be wired to our accounts by noon."

"What kind of advance did you secure?" Shaver asked them.

"Half a million," Matt said. "Not bad for a bunch of amateurs, huh?"

Shaver nodded appreciatively. "Not bad at all," he said. "Although I really wish you would have had me sit in on your negotiations. I know we've had our differences, but if they were willing to give you half a million in advance money without my presence, they might've gone a million with my presence."

"Well," said Matt, "we would've invited you to participate, but there was this whole thing about how you fucked us over the first time. Do you remember that?"

"Yes," said Jake. "It seems you were looking more out for your interests than ours."

"Now, guys," Shaver said. "I've told you this in the past, the contract you signed with me was a standard industry representation contract. I know you didn't like it, but it was no different than the one I signed with Earthstone or The Two Lips."

"Yes, we're now well versed on that whole standard industry concept," Jake said. "But you know what? All is forgiven."

"It is?" Shaver asked.

"Yep," said Matt. "Because it doesn't fucking matter anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," Matt said. "But first, do you have any of that premo blow on you? I could use a couple lines about now. How about you, Jake?"

"Definitely," Jake said. "I haven't done any coke in a week."

"Uh... sure," Shaver said. He quickly produced his kit and started crunching up lines. "Would you like a drink?"

"Fuckin' A," said Matt. "We'll have the usual."

Shaver nodded and hit the intercom button. "Trina," he said, "two Chivas and cokes for my guests, please?"

"Make them doubles," Jake said.

"Doubles," Shaver dutifully repeated.

While they were waiting, Jake and Matt took turns expounding upon the contract they'd just signed. Shaver listened respectfully as he heard some of the more lucrative terms. Trina came in and gave them their drinks. She then retreated. Shaver put the mirror before them and they each snorted up their two lines plus one of Shaver's, leaving him with nothing. He frowned but didn't comment.

"Goddamn," Jake said, sniffing, feeling the drug go to his head. "You always did have the best blow, Shaver."

"Yep," said Matt, downing three-quarters of his drink in one gulp. "I'll always remember that about you."

"Remember?" asked Shaver, who had dumped out some more coke and was making a few fresh lines for himself. "What do you mean?"

"Ahh," said Jake, "that's what we actually came here for. You see, your contract with us was for the duration of the contract we signed with National, remember?"