AREA 47

SECTION 89:

COURTNEY, Chapter 46

The Beauregards, the Boccioni, the two Braques, the Cezanne, and the many Dalis; the da Vinci, the Goya, the Leonardo, the wall of Picassos, the Rembrandt and finally the Renoir.

Eric Des Barres had them all taken down and put into storage.  In their place, he put framed life-size & larger pictures of Courty the cover girl.  Eric commissioned Trajan the ornamentalist to do a progression of portraits, and pop artist Mayo to do a series of silk-screens.

Eric Des Barres’ $6.66 million dollar Manhattan apartment became a shrine to Courty.  The Chapman Search company was contracted to seek and find every instance of Courty in the media, to document it, obtain samples & duplicates wherever practicable.

It was sleazeball sexual guilt.  His lethal hate had flipped, metamorphosed into a fatal passion.

The sperm of his dastardly deed was already irretrievably into the womb of the world.  His carefully counterfeited copies of Courty’s humiliation, artificially inseminated into the whank-pit porno video empire.

RAM-BAM, starring ‘Buffy Buns.’  Available in modest brown-wrapper through the mails for do-it-yourselfers.  Advertised in men’s mags; the perfect aid for plucking the twanger or pounding the meat.  RAM-BAM.  Beat that pup and squeeze that lemon!

RAM-BAM.  Crude, low-budget, priced to sell, it jacked up the Ten Best list of frig-flicks until it had Fuck magazine’s Seal of Secret Vice approval, and the Cocksucking Quarterly’s Bite The Boner medallion.  The French Renifleur magazine gave the video its highest accolade: the Golden Shower Award.  Blood weekly gave the video a special mention for special effects.  The flick even had the feminists falling-out and at odds with each other.  The FWHP (Feminists Who Hate Porn) lived up to their acronym; however FOXXY & KOYOTE both applauded the RAM-BAM video for Buffy’s fight-back take-no-prisoners suck-no-dick-before-its-time attitude.  The seminal video inspired a spew of copycat videos.

Eric had hired professionals to completely re-edit the video, and process the magnetic media to clean up the picture quality.  It began, the way it began, no irrelevant dialogue or plot to slow down self-abuse.  Then the worktape’s final club sandwich scenes with Courtney hopelessly high on heroin were highlighted.  Her drugged delirium passed quite readily for sexual arousal.  Using slow-motion and judicious use of repeated segments, the video was stretched to the required length.  As the coup de theatre: buffed Buffy Buns using her tormentor’s hooded face and bod for a piss-pot!  As the final coup de maitre: Buffy’s ‘jaws-job!’

Some additional camera-work using a body-double showed Buffy’s triumphant escape from her antagonists.  End.  You could take a Hummer through the plot holes in the bassackwards video; but BFD, the mindblowing close-up shocking view of the knock-your-socks-off girl with an appetite for dick!  Macrophallus to microphallus faster than you can say: puh-TUH!

Then, of course, the whispering campaign, the word-of-mouth ruination: “Pssst.  Buffy Buns is really Courty the cover girl!”

But now, Eric regretted it all.  It pained him.  He was embarrassed to the point of mental agony.

Eric Des Barres bought out MF Enterprises, which sold and distributed the RAM-BAM video, and he quietly removed RAM-BAM from distribution.  All the rumors he had started before, the company now steadfastly denied; he issued news statements contradicting the story he had formerly planted in The National Confidential.

Eric woke up in the morning with a hurting heart.  He longed for Courty throughout the day.  Cocaine-charged daydreams of Courty.  Watching her, rewatching her, studying her, instant replay, televised news clips, compiled magazine clips; her boyfriend had even recorded a song about her.

Eric had stalled, given up his dream of cool, sweet violence, the drug and dance with death that he had intended to aim and inflict upon Courty.  No, it could not now be.

Eric loved her.

It was so obtuse, so incredibly inappropriate.  He hadn’t felt this way about a girl since boarding school.

His hand was nearly healed.  If Courty saw his hand now, she might guess that Eric was the one she had slammed the yacht’s door on, the day he had gang-raped her and shot RAM-BAM.  No, he could not risk that.  He had to wait just a little longer, but the waiting was ultra-sweet with the anticipation, almost as good as already having her.  Soon, very soon, he would visit her again, and steal her love, and she would be forever his.  They would be together always.

These last few years he had been drifting aimlessly, just going through the motions of life.

But now Eric’s life had a purpose.

Now his life had meaning.

He had a goal and a career path: Courtney Foulke Ryan.

COURTNEY, Chapter 47
 

Copyright 2005 Area 47