Jake was suppressing his laughter by now. "You bet," he said. "Let's do it."
"Jake, Matt," Janice hissed. "You can't... I mean... come back here!"
"We'll be back," Jake told her. "Have yourself a drink while we're gone."
The men's restroom was sparkling clean and smelled of lemons. Three tuxedoed men were standing around the sink as they entered, taking turns snorting cocaine from a small mirror. Jake recognized two of them: Michael Quinn, a teen heartthrob who had starred in numerous tough guy flicks, and Anthony Rentworst, a renowned director of such teen heartthrob movies. None of the three even looked up when the two musicians entered the room.
"Wassup, homies?" Matt asked them. "Got any spare blow for me and Jake here?"
Three identical looks of contemptuous disgust met this question. "No," said Quinn. "I think not."
Matt nodded. "I know how it is," he said. "The shit's expensive. You can't be sharing it with just anybody."
"Right," Quinn said. He turned back to the mirror and snorted his fill.
"Pricks," Matt muttered under his breath. With that, he reached into the jacket pocket of his suit and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He opened the box and removed a tightly rolled joint — a fat one. He put it in his mouth, put the cigarettes back in his pocket, and then pulled out a lighter that he used to spark up the joint. He took a tremendous and quite noisy hit.
The actor, the director, and the unknown person with them (we was Conner Bergman, another famous actor that neither Jake nor Matt recognized) all turned towards them as they heard the inhalation and smelled the pungent odor of the Humboldt Skunk Bud being burned. Their mouths dropped open in shock.
"You guys want a hit?" Matt squeaked, still holding the smoke in his lungs. "I'm not a Bogart."
They didn't answer. Keeping the look of shock and revulsion on their faces, they quickly gathered up their mirror, their straw, and their little silver box and made a beeline for the bathroom door. They didn't let it hit them in the ass on the way out.
"Fuckin' squares," Matt said as he passed the joint to Jake.
Jake took it but was laughing too hard to take a hit just yet. "You're fuckin' killing me, Matt," he said. "Oh shit. This is the most fun I've had since we went to that truck stop and you kicked Hathaway's ass."
They emerged from the restroom five minutes later, both of them reeking of skunk bud and red in the eyes, but in the proper mood for viewing a movie.
Even stoned, the movie wasn't very good. It was as predictable as the sunrise, full of lame clichés, and suffered from a myriad of plot holes and suspension of disbelief problems. About the only redeeming quality it featured was the two actresses who starred in it. They really were talented at their trade and the strained and sometimes violent interaction between them came across as the most genuine aspect of the entire production. And they were both quite alluring in starkly contrasting ways. Mindy's character was cute and cuddly, syrupy sweet. The kind of girl who would like puppies and holding hands at sunset, who would wear a promise ring and actually keep the promise. Veronica's character was sultry and tempting, foul-mouthed, a risqué dresser, a girl who thought nothing of giving it up on a first date, or even before a first date. Of course, the predictable aspect of the movie guaranteed that Mindy's character was the one who ultimately ended up with Mark Dennison's character. And, of course, the Veronica character was shown the consequences of the lifestyle she was leading (in the form of an AIDS scare she got when a former lover told her he had tested positive) and vowed to become more like the Mindy character. And of course all three of them became the best of friends and shared a group hug in the end, this despite the fact that the Veronica character had slept with the Mark Dennison character while he was the Mindy character's boyfriend and the Mark character had thought, for a short time, that he might have AIDS because of this.
The audience either didn't notice the film's shortcomings or pretended not to. Everyone applauded wildly when the closing credits began to roll. They even gave a standing ovation. And afterward, when they filtered back out into the lobby and began to sip from their drinks and munch on the appetizers, nobody had anything but praise for the film, especially when in earshot of one of the stars.
Once most of the party-goers had filtered through and congratulated all the cast members who were present, Mindy drifted across the room until she was standing next to Jake and Matt, who were in the process of sipping from their fourth drinks and annihilating the salami and cheese table.
"Hi, guys," she said brightly, her chocolate brown eyes shining in that innocent and endearing way. "What did you think of the film? Did you like it?"
"It was uh... not bad, overall," Jake said. "Your acting was superb."
"Thank you," she said, blushing a little. "And what about the storyline? Just 'not bad'?"
"Well, I'm sure the writers worked very hard on it," Jake said.
"I was disappointed," Matt said from around a mouthful of food.
"Oh?" Mindy asked. "Why is that?"
"There wasn't a single bare titty in the whole flick," he said. "There wasn't even an ass shot."
Mindy giggled. "Is that how you rate your movies, Matt?" she asked. "By how many nudity scenes are in them?"
"Fuckin' aye," he said. "I can't give a flick a thumbs-up unless they show some ass, tits, or gash."
"I'll keep that in mind for my next film," she said, smiling.
"You do that," Matt told her. "In fact, you and Veronica should think about doing a dyke-out scene. I bet that would get you a sold-out opening weekend."
"I'm sure you're right," she said. "But that wouldn't maintain my sweet innocent image very well, would it?"
"True," Matt agreed, "but what a way to let it die."
She took a sip from the mineral water she was drinking. "I heard you guys smoked some pot in the men's room," she said. "Is that true?"
"Well, you have your image to maintain, and we have ours," Jake replied.
She laughed, reaching out and slapping lightly at Jake's arm. "You guys are refreshing," she said. "These parties are so boring sometimes. Everyone is such a phony."
Matt suddenly stepped up to her, a serious expression on his face. "Tell me something, Mindy," he said.
"What's that?"
"Is there a chance in hell of my scoring with you tonight?"
She blushed again but held his gaze. "No," she said. "I'm a good girl, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember. How about Veronica? She was a bitch to me earlier, but maybe it was part of her act. Think I can score with her?"
"Well," she said. "How to put this? Veronica is more into... oh, you know... the softer things in life, if you know what I mean."
"You mean she's a dyke?" Matt asked.
"Women are her preference," Mindy said. "Although she's not above sleeping with a man if he can do something for her career. Can you do anything for her career?"
"Her career? No."
"Then you have no chance," Mindy said.
Matt shrugged. "Oh well. It was a nice dream." He brightened as he thought of something. "Hey," he said to Mindy, "you know these people. Tell me what actress I can score with tonight."
"Hmmm," Mindy said, looking around the room. Finally she pointed out a tall, willowy blonde in short black dress. "Her," she said.
"Isn't that Tana Kensington?" he asked. Tana Kensington was another former television star who was trying to make the jump to the big screen. She had played one of the supporting characters in Thinner Than Water — the Veronica character's best friend.
"That's her," she confirmed. "She's got quite the reputation among those of us on the inside."
"Yeah?"
"Yes indeed," Mindy assured him. "My guess is you would find her quite receptive to your advances."
"Well off I go then," Matt said. He quickly downed the rest of his drink, left the empty glass on the side of the appetizer table, and headed that way. Since Janice was off talking to the producer of the film and since Georgette was off schmoozing some people of her own, this left Jake and Mindy relatively alone together. She made no move to excuse herself.