chapter 15.
Lizaveta begins to walk.
She goes into the subway and takes The Path Train.
She rides it to Jersey City.
Lizaveta gets out of the subway and walks down the street.
A man walks up to her wearing an old purple leather coat with a fake fur collar. Gold rings cover each finger, gold necklaces and gold bracelets. And bright blue shoes.
His name is Limp Dixon. His heart is a dirty trench of slithering snakes, gargoyals, rats invested with the bubonic plague, hemmorrhoids, and ulcers. He spits on the homeless and shits on unwed well-fare mothers. He loves the phrase, "They should pick themselves up by their bootstraps." He reads Horatio Alger while masturbating. He has taken over four thousand personality tests on the internet hoping one doesn't say he is a raving lunatic narcissist, they all do though. He says that workers should be paid in script. He hates Woodie Guthrie and Bob Dylan.
Limp Dixon walks up to Lizaveta and says, "I want to make you a star, you are great, not as great as me, but still great. You will be a star."
Limp Dixon brings Lizaveta to a dark room and has her sit in a folding wooden chair. There is not even a television in the room.
Limp Dixon says to Lizaveta, "Soon you will be a star, I got you a big deal, you are going to be on a television show I'm producing. I will be back in an hour and you will be a star."
Lizaveta sits. She just stares.
An hour passes.
Limp Dixon returns.
Limp Dixon says, "I think two hours from now would be a better time for you to be a star, is that cool? Two hours is good right."
Lizaveta says, "Okay, two hours isn't bad."
Limp Dixon returns an hour later, "Oh, the time isn't right. Hold on. I have to take a vacation to South America. Is that cool, I'll be back in a week. Cool? Don't worry I know what I'm doing. My show is doing good, my show is awesome. Yours will be good too. Just give me a week."
Lizaveta stares and says, "That doesn't sound bad."
A week later:
Limp Dixon returns and says, "Oh, shit got fucked up. You need to wait a week, some things have gotten fucked up. It is somebody's else fault though. So don't worry."
Two months pass:
Limp Dixon shows up: "Listen Lizaveta, things have gotten fucked up again. I don't know what went wrong, it was somebody's else's fault though. Not mine. So don't worry."
Lizaveta says back, "I don't think you are going to make me a star Limp."
Limp Dixon says back angrily, "Listen mother fucker, I have been working 168 hours a week for you. 168 hours a fucking week, this is bullshit, YOU ARE INSANE! You are a raving narcissist crybaby!"
Lizaveta stands up and kicks Limp Dixon in the shins and leaves.
Limp Dixon sits in the corner of the room and calls his mom and says, "Mommy nobody loves me."
Limp Dixon's mom replies, "Neither do I."
She goes into the subway and takes The Path Train.
She rides it to Jersey City.
Lizaveta gets out of the subway and walks down the street.
A man walks up to her wearing an old purple leather coat with a fake fur collar. Gold rings cover each finger, gold necklaces and gold bracelets. And bright blue shoes.
His name is Limp Dixon. His heart is a dirty trench of slithering snakes, gargoyals, rats invested with the bubonic plague, hemmorrhoids, and ulcers. He spits on the homeless and shits on unwed well-fare mothers. He loves the phrase, "They should pick themselves up by their bootstraps." He reads Horatio Alger while masturbating. He has taken over four thousand personality tests on the internet hoping one doesn't say he is a raving lunatic narcissist, they all do though. He says that workers should be paid in script. He hates Woodie Guthrie and Bob Dylan.
Limp Dixon walks up to Lizaveta and says, "I want to make you a star, you are great, not as great as me, but still great. You will be a star."
Limp Dixon brings Lizaveta to a dark room and has her sit in a folding wooden chair. There is not even a television in the room.
Limp Dixon says to Lizaveta, "Soon you will be a star, I got you a big deal, you are going to be on a television show I'm producing. I will be back in an hour and you will be a star."
Lizaveta sits. She just stares.
An hour passes.
Limp Dixon returns.
Limp Dixon says, "I think two hours from now would be a better time for you to be a star, is that cool? Two hours is good right."
Lizaveta says, "Okay, two hours isn't bad."
Limp Dixon returns an hour later, "Oh, the time isn't right. Hold on. I have to take a vacation to South America. Is that cool, I'll be back in a week. Cool? Don't worry I know what I'm doing. My show is doing good, my show is awesome. Yours will be good too. Just give me a week."
Lizaveta stares and says, "That doesn't sound bad."
A week later:
Limp Dixon returns and says, "Oh, shit got fucked up. You need to wait a week, some things have gotten fucked up. It is somebody's else fault though. So don't worry."
Two months pass:
Limp Dixon shows up: "Listen Lizaveta, things have gotten fucked up again. I don't know what went wrong, it was somebody's else's fault though. Not mine. So don't worry."
Lizaveta says back, "I don't think you are going to make me a star Limp."
Limp Dixon says back angrily, "Listen mother fucker, I have been working 168 hours a week for you. 168 hours a fucking week, this is bullshit, YOU ARE INSANE! You are a raving narcissist crybaby!"
Lizaveta stands up and kicks Limp Dixon in the shins and leaves.
Limp Dixon sits in the corner of the room and calls his mom and says, "Mommy nobody loves me."
Limp Dixon's mom replies, "Neither do I."
posted by Noah Cicero at 2:02 PM
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