“Wells Fargo Usury” was created on September 1, 2013 by the Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II.Ā Wall Street banks made billions on securitized subprime mortgages. When the bubble burst 99% of the world population was negatively impacted by the ripple effects. The main culprits have escaped punishment, not one top executive-level banker has been personally punished or lost their job. Tax deductible fines are levied against banks for criminal acts, not prosecutions. The lesson learned is, crime pays for the 1%.
VOODOO ECONOMICS
While lame stream media distracts people by feeding them bread and circus, disguised as news and information, banks labeled, “too-big-to-fail”, are stealing money from customers with impunity, because they can.
Banks steal billions of dollars but only pay millions in fines that are usually tax deductible. So the lesson learned is: crime pays, if you are a corporate entity protected by a corrupt, “pay for play”, government.
BANKS ARE ABOVE THE LAW: TOO-BIG-TO FAIL MEANS TOO-BIG-TO-JAIL AND THAT TRANSLATES INTO FISCAL ANARCHY THAT ENABLES ECONOMIC TERRORISM.
Wells Fargo, the largest mortgage lender in the United States,Ā admitted to deceiving the U.S. government into insuring thousands of risky mortgages and agreed to pay $1.2 billion to put to rest claims that it engaged in reckless lending under a Federal Housing AdministrationĀ program that left a taxpayer subsidized, government insurance fund to clean up the mess.
Wells Fargo engaged in a reckless trifecta of poor training, deficient loan underwriting and poor disclosure in the government-backed loan program.
ECONOMIC TERRORISM DEFINED IN MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALISM.
Wells Fargo was fined $3.6 million because the bank actedĀ illegally by charging on-time payers withĀ late fees, failedĀ to inform borrowers of steps they could take to minimize feesĀ and leftĀ credit report errors uncorrected,Ā which resulted in some misled student loan borrowers paying unnecessary fees.
āWells Fargo hit borrowers with illegal fees and deprived others of critical information needed to effectively manage their student loan accounts. Consumers should be able to rely on their servicer to process and credit payments correctly and to provide accurate and timely information.ā- Richard Cordray,Ā Director Of Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.
CONTEMPORARY ART MEME
The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau assessed nearly $36 million in penalties against Wells Fargo for the banksā role in a āmortgage kickbackā scheme.Ā The financial regulator charged Wells Fargo bank employees with entering into an illegal arrangement with a now-defunct Maryland mortgage title company, under which the title company gave cash, marketing materials and consumer information in exchange for bank business.Ā The CFPB determined in its investigation that more than 100 Wells Fargo loan officers in Maryland and Virginia entered into the illegal arrangement,
āThese banks allowed their loan officers to focus on their own illegal financial gain rather than on treating consumers fairly.” – Richard Cordray,Ā Consumer Financial Protection Bureau Director.
CONTEMPORARY ART MEME
Wells Fargo was fined $81.6 million for failing to provide Ā bankrupt homeowners with legally required notices of mortgage payment increases which denied homeowners the opportunity to challenge the accuracy of mortgage payment increases.Ā By failing to properly notify homeowners, Wells Fargo violated federal bankruptcy rules that took effect in December 2011 that imposed more detailed disclosure requirements to ensure proper accounting of fees and charges on homeowners in bankruptcy.
CONTEMPORARY ART MEME
Wells Fargo, agreed to pay $85 million to settle charges that it falsified loan documents of its borrowers and pushed borrowers into higher interest subprime mortgages even though they qualified for a mortgage with lower interest rates. Over 10,000 borrowers were steered into more expensive subprime mortgages with higher interest rates or had their loan paperwork falsified by Wells Fargo personnel.Ā Wells Fargo personnel were driven to the fraudulent activity in order to meet their company goals required for consideration to receive bonuses.
CONTEMPORARY ART MEME
Wells Fargo agreed to pay a $70 million penalty to settle legal claims overĀ improper activity including the robo-signing of foreclosure documents,Ā faulty payment-change notices filed in bankruptcy courts and faulty escrow calculations. Wells FargoĀ employees acted as robo-signers toĀ speed up the foreclosure process with falsified or inadequate underlying documentation.
CONTEMPORARY ART MEME
“One would assume the most valuable tool for an artist is in his hands, in reality, however, it is the mind of the artist which serves to create.”- Ā Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II
THE WORD RACIST HAS LOST ITS MEANING IN THE NEW WORLD ORDER.
The Undecided Voter knows the meaning of the word, RACIST, which by definition,Ā demands a superior-inferior power relationship: Therefore, Caucasians, like Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, can be labeled “racist”; however, a Black or HispanicĀ person may be disdainful of, prejudiced against, or dislike a Caucasian, or all Caucasians for that matter, but a Black or HispanicĀ person or group, like La Raza or Black Lives Matter, cannot be labeled racist, ever.
TO DISTRACT FROM THE āHILLARY CLINTON PAY-FOR-PLAY-RIGGED- ELECTION-RACIST-DNC- EMAIL-SCANDALSā Ā THE CLINTON MACHINE TRIES TO IGNITE A MODERN CIVIL WAR, BY LABELING SWATHS OF BLACKS AND HISPANICS, āALT-RIGHT BIGOTSā, DURING THE 2016 TRUMP VS CLINTON WHITE HOUSE RACE.
The Undecided Voter realizes that Hillary Clinton is attempting to diminish the history and meaning of the word, “RACIST”, by politicizing racism and prejudice to mean: Anyone who is against corruption or oligarchy, as in; “If you do not vote for Hillary Clinton you are a racist, alt right, conspiracy theorist.”, which, of course, is simply not true.
Ā THE UNDECIDED VOTER
The Undecided Voter notices Hillary Clinton would have American citizens and constituents believe conspiracy theorists are tantamount to racists.
Ā CONSPIRACY THEORY OR FACT?
The Undecided Voter notices Hillary Clinton would have American citizens and constituents believe that Hispanics and Blacks who believe in change are racist.
ALT-RIGHT-HILLARY CLINTON WOULD HAVE EVERYONE BELIEVE THAT ALL HISPANICS ARE MEXICAN AND THAT ANY HISPANIC THAT SUPPORTS TRUMP IS RACIST OR IGNORANT.
The Undecided Voter notices that Hillary Clinton would haveĀ American citizens and constituents believe all Hispanics and Blacks who are pro-democracy and not in favor of plutocracy and oligarchy in the United States of America, are racist bigots or rapists.
ALT-RIGHT-HILLARY CLINTON WOULD HAVE PEOPLE BELIEVE THAT ALL BLACKS ARE LIKE BILL COSBY AND THAT ANY BLACK OR HISPANIC WHO VOTES FOR TRUMP IS RACIST AND IGNORANT.
The Undecided Voter notices Hillary Clinton would haveĀ American citizens and constituents believe that Hispanics and Blacks who believe in Democracy without corruption are racist.
ALT-RIGHT āHILLARY CLINTON WOULD HAVE PEOPLE BELIEVE THAT BLACKS AND HISPANICS WHO DONāT VOTE FOR A CORRUPT SYSTEM OF GOVERNMENT ARE RACIST.
The Undecided Voter notices Hillary Clinton would haveĀ American citizens and constituents believe that Hispanics and Blacks who believe 9/11 was an inside job are racist.
CONTEMPORARY ART CONSPIRACY THEORY MEME UNDERSTOOD BY EVERYONE, INCLUDING NEEDY LATINO’S AND SUPER PREDATORS.
The Undecided Voter notices that Blacks and Hispanics know very well, that not all Hispanics are Mexican and not all African-Americans are Black.
THIS WHITE MAN IS AFRICAN, FROM SANDTON, JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH AFRICA. HE IS, CONVICTED MURDERER, OSCAR PISTORIUS, A.K.A. THE BLADE RUNNER. IF HE WERE TO BECOME AN AMERICAN CITIZEN, BY DEFINITION; HE WOULD BE LABELED, AN IMMIGRANT AFRICAN-AMERICAN CONVICTED OF MURDER. ACCORDING TO THE NFL, UNDER THE TOXIC LEADERSHIP OF ROGER GOODELL, ANYONE WHO STANDS FOR THE NATIONAL ANTHEM AND THINKS OUT LOUD THAT SOME PROFESSIONAL AFRICAN-AMERICAN ATHLETES ARE VIOLENT, IS A RACIST PERSON.Ā
The Undecided Voter notices that there are some black Brazilians and White Mexicans that are wonderful human beings and some Brown, White, Black and Hispanic people that are rapists and murderers, which, like sexual predators and killers of any color, nationality or religious belief, are dangerous to civil society and the general public as a whole.
THE UNITED SLAVES OF AMERICA SEE PAST THE TRUTH OF RACISM AND BIGOTRY BEING PEDDLED AS POLITICAL CORRECTNESS IN AMERICA.
The Undecided Voter sees Blacks and Hispanics shouting, “No justice, no peace!”, while the United Slaves Of America demand Rule Of Law be fairly applied to all Constituents.
BLACKS, HISPANICS AND WHITES ARE ALL UNITED SLAVES OF AMERICA WHEN RULE OF LAW IS NOT APPLIED FAIRLY, AS IN THE CASE OF BARRACK HUSSEIN OBAMA AND HILLARY RODHAM CLINTON.
The Undecided VoterĀ realizes that, being educated and informed, does not make Hispanics, Blacks or Whites radical, racist, alt-right, conspiracy-theorists.
BLACKS AND HISPANICS CAN TELL WHEN A WHITE MAN LIES TO THEM ON TELEVISION AND CALLS IT NEWS.
“As a United States Naval Academy Midshipman Officer, at the world famous leadership laboratory in Annapolis, Maryland, I learned that what Hillary Clinton has done to the citizens of the United States is tantamount to treason, because her actions have left our nation vulnerable to blackmail by enemies of the state.” – Victor-Hugo Vaca II
Marathon All-Star MAMM Jam Creates āMuse 4 Haitiā To Benefit Earthquake Victims Through The Figaro Angel Network.
On January 12, 2010 Haiti was struck by an earthquake thatĀ measured 7.0 magnitude.”Muse 4 Haiti” (38Ć53) was created on January 8, 2011 at the NBC Omni Auditorium at the Haiti Memorial Concert.
THE MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II JOINED AN ALL-STAR LINE UP OF INTERNATIONAL TALENT TO RAISE MONEY FOR EARTHQUAKE SURVIVORS.
Over 220,000 people were killed and over 300,000 people wereĀ injured on January 12, 2010 in HaitiĀ .
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II, ON STAGE, PERFORMING A SIX-HOUR MARATHON, MODERN ART MUSIC MOVEMENT, AT THE ALL-STAR MAMM JAM HAPPENING, WITH AN INTERNATIONAL LINE UP, OFĀ TALENTEDĀ MUSICIANS, AT THE NBC OMNIĀ AUDITORIUM, TO BENEFIT HAITI EARTHQUAKE VICTIMS.
The Haiti earthquake left more than 1.5 million homeless survivors.
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR- HUGO VACA II PERFORMED WITH 14 ARTISTS TO CREATE THE PAINTING TITLED, āMUSE 4 HAITIā.
Five years later, tens of thousands of people in Port-au-Prince still live in tents and other temporary housing.
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II CHANNELS THE MUSE INTO LIFE ON STAGE.
$13.5 billion in humanitarian aid from donations and pledges was raised fromĀ nations and private charity after the catastrophic 2010 Haiti Earthquake.
IN BETWEEN SETS, THE āMUSE 4 HAITIā BEGINS TO TAKE FORM ON STAGE.
The hypocrisy of philanthropy, political correctness and weak journalism fueled by greed, is such that, according to the Washington-based Center for Economic Policy and Research, less than a penny of every dollar goes directly to Haitian organizations. Thus, meaning that billions in relief and recovery aid, haven’t been enough to rescue Haiti from chronic corruption, which has enabled a tangible failure to manifestĀ improvements that, in a better world, would have been brought to fruition, with all the available resources and goodwill.
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II PLEADS WITH AUDIENCE FOR DONATIONS TO AID IN RECOVERY.
As a consequence of the earthquake, over the past four years, cholera has struck more than 720,000 HaitiansĀ and killed almost 9,000 people in Haiti.
āMUSE 4 HAITIā BY MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II
The Modern Art Music Movement⢠(MAMM) is an International Coalition of Artists, Musicians, Filmmakers, and Professionals using art, music, movies and live mixed-media events to raise awareness about social issues not normally investigated on mainstream-media news outlets and to promote new talent and compassionate wealth, through art and education across the multi-universe.
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II WITH TITO PUENTE JR. BACKSTAGE.
The Modern Art Music Movement⢠(MAMM) fuses art and music to inspire creativity, cooperation, compassionate wealth, clear communication, conflict resolution and peace-making-innovation in the New World Order.
KING WAWA, SEAN HILL, TITO PUENTE JR. AND MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II BACKSTAGE AT THE HAITI MEMORIAL CONCERT.
The Modern Art Music Movement⢠(MAMM) affords artists the opportunity to capture history, on canvas; manifested in Rorschach interpretations, created as mixed-media-performance-art, that fuses live music with art and movies in performances at multi-media events called MAMM Jams.
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II WITH MUSES BACKSTAGE AT HAITI MEMORIAL CONCERT.
The following SFL news report, appeared on the CW Network; it features the Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II performing a Modern Art Music Movementā¢Ā MAMM Jam Happening with Tito Puente Jr., Belo, Donta Wilson, King Wawa, Jahnesta, Mecca aka Grimo, Violeta Leskyte, Katalog, Misty Jean, Sunlove, Tonton Bicha, Alaye aka Zoerock, Harold St. Louis, Shirley Desgrottes, Robert Martino & The Lander Sisters at the Haiti Memorial Concert in South Florida.
“Live-Love-Flow-Shine.” – Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II IN THE LABYRINTH OF CREATIVITY.
And now, for something completely different; sort of.
The New York Post, which some critics consider a rag, recently published an article by Michael Goodwin titled, “American Journalism Is Collapsing Before Our Eyes.”
IT IS NO WONDER THAT PUBLIC TRUST IN NEWS MEDIA IS ALL BUT EXTINGUISHED WHEN JOURNALISM IS FUNDAMENTALLY DISHONEST IN REPORTING EDITORIAL OPINION AS FACT AND TRUTH.
The New York Times has thrown out standards and violated all journalistic integrity in favor of echoing theĀ Whitehouse and Hillary Clinton campaign.
AMERICAN FLAG VICTOR HUGO VACA II
The New York Times echoed the false premise of weapons of mass destruction, spoon-fed by Colin PowellĀ and the Bush Whitehouse, to careless New York Times editors who published articles encouraging war in Iraq, without fact checking.
MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALISM PAINTING, “THE THREE SOLDIERS” REPORTED THE WAR IN IRAQ AS BOTH AN INVASION AND A FARCE, BEFORE IT WAS CHIC, AT THE 2006 “CONTINUE TO DESCEND” EXHIBIT FEATURING WORK BY JEFF KOONS ANDĀ MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II, AS NOTED IN THE NY ARTS MAGAZINE ARTICLE BY KATE HICKEY.
History will tell that bad reporting by The New York Times was partially responsible for the United States Invasion of Iraq and the continuing quagmire that exists in the Middle East, which is now bleeding heavily into Europe and on American soil.
“GOD SPOKE BUT INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISTS WERE ALL LAID OFF, SO NOBODY LEARNED A THING.” MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALISM STORY BOARD DRAWING BY MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II.Ā
Instead of using investigative journalism to confirm facts properly before publishing content as a beacon of news and information for publicĀ trust, The New York Times, Miami Herald and Fort Myers News Press, to name a few, appear to be practicing copy and paste journalism that makes modern-art-gonzo-journalism seem more like Jon Stewart’s, “The Daily Show”, to cultured Millennials.
IT IS ESTIMATED THAT BETWEEN 6-10% OF REVENUE, ACTUALLY GOES TO CHARITY, IN “THE CLINTON FOUNDATION”, EVEN LESS IN FLY BY NIGHT CHARITIES, THAT EXPLOIT HANDICAPPED CHILDREN, WOMEN AND VETERANS FOR POLITICAL FAVORS AND PERSONAL ENRICHMENT.
“I mean, honestly, the question, I think, now for the Clintons is, āWhat else donāt we know? What donāt we know about your donors? What donāt we know about the conflicts of interest that those donors represent when Mrs. Clinton is serving as Secretary of State?ā We are now finding out thatĀ soĀ little of those charitable donations actually go to charitable works.” –Ā Republican presidential candidate Carly Fiorina
2013 ANNUAL REVENUE OF THE CLINTON FOUNDATION WAS $149 MILLION OF WHICH $9 MILLION OR 6% ACTUALLY MADE ITS WAY TO CHARITY IN GRANTS, ALLEGEDLY.Ā
To be fair, according to Katherina Rosqueta, the founding executiveĀ director of the Center for High Impact Philanthropy at the University of Pennsylvania,Ā āThere is an important distinction between an operating foundation vs. a non-operating foundation; An operating foundation implements programs so money it raises is not designed to be used exclusively for grant-making purposes. When most people hear āfoundationā, they think exclusively of a grant-making entity. In either case, the key is to understand how well the foundation uses money ā whether to implement programs or to grant out to nonprofits.”
THE UNDECIDED VOTER
Katherina Rosqueta, The Undecided Voter notices, is suggesting the Clinton Foundation is an āoperating foundation.ā
“THE GONIF INSIDE” MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALISM STORY BOARD DRAWING BY MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II.
The Clinton Foundation allegedly spent 12 percent of its revenue on travel and conferences and 20 percent of its revenue on salaries.
GONIFS COLLUDE WITH JOURNALISTS TO BAMBOOZLE DO-GOODERS INTO EXPLOITING THE FEEBLE MINDED AND WEAK IN SACRIFICE OF PUBLIC TRUST.
Mr. Bill was a friend of mine. When he needed shelter, I housed him. When he needed food, I fed him. One day, Mr. Bill called to ask a favor of me.
āThe All Stars are getting together again, would you like to be part of the reunion?ā He asked.
I recalled the thrill of being on stage, in front of thousands of cheering fans in Fort Myers, Florida, using my gift of synesthesia to interpret wavelengths and frequencies of music in color on canvas, with rock & roll legends, who collectively, sold over half a billion records worldwide.
āIs it going to be like the first time?ā I asked.
“ALL STAR MAMM JAM” BY MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II.
āYes.ā He answered. āOnly this time, it will be to benefit handicapped children. My girlfriendās son has autism. He attends the Able Academy in Naples. I wondered if youĀ wouldn’tĀ mind working with them the day before theĀ show at the school. The band is going to be there and so is FOX News. At the concert, Iāll make sure the stage is set up properly. If you donāt mind, weāll bring the kids up and let them paint with you during one of the songs. You can stay with the band at the beachfront mansion I rented and Iāll cover your travel expenses. What do you say, can you do it?ā
āSure.ā I answered.
āOh, and after we perform for the children in Naples, weāre scheduled for a gig in Fort Myers, at the opening game of spring training for the World Series champions, the Boston Red Sox.ā Mr. Bill paused before continuing. āSo, youāll be there too, right?Ā You can create three Modern Art Music Movement paintings to commemorate the All Star weekend.ā
āYeah, sure, no problem. Iāll be there for all three MAMM Jamsā
After hanging up with Mr. Bill, I got a phone call from my best friend Todd in New York, a huge Orthodox Jew that looks like an albino gorilla wearing a yamaka. Heās a wrestling champion, nicknamed, āThe Hebrew Hammerā, who plays the harmonica with chutzpa and soul.
āMy friend just invited me to a VH1 Fashion Week Party full of notable celebrities, heās one of the performing artists, so itās going to be VIP all the way, you want to come? VH1 gave him a suite at the Times Square Marriott, thereās plenty of room, you can be my guest.ā Todd said.
āI would love to.ā I answered, before realizing that the dates conflicted with the bond I had given to my friend Mr. Bill for sake of the children at the Able Academy. āWhy donāt you join me in Fort Myers for an All-Star MAMM Jam with former members of Boston, Steely Dan, The Doobie Brothers, Third World, The Wailers and The James Brown Band, to benefit mentally handicapped children? Iāll tell Mr. Bill Iām bringing you as my guest and you can stay with me at the beachfront mansion heās renting for the band.ā
āYou sure itās going to be alright, remember, Iām Kosher, what about Shabbat?ā
ā Dude, theyāre rock legends, not anti-semites.ā
āAlright, Iāll buy my ticket to fly down to your Labyrinth of Creativity on the beach near Miami. Iāll rent a big car for us to drive across Alligator Alley together, as long as you make sure I can celebrate my Weekly Holy Day.ā
āYou got it, Todd. I promise.ā
So began my covenant with the Able Academy kids and my friends, never realizing that my commitment would lead to a series of events that left me afraid of charity and suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
CHAPTER ONE: THE SPECIAL ARTIST FROM NYC
The day before meeting the Able Academy kids in Naples, I was scheduled to appear on WRPBI-TV, which broadcasts out of Boca Raton, Florida, to promote the All Star event in Fort Myers. Prior to my interview, on a show titled, āOut Of The Haze with Bryan Hayesā, I was introduced to Snow, a Canadian Reggae Musician, whose song, āInformerā, has been recorded twice in the āGuinness Book Of World Recordsā as the best selling reggae single in U.S. History, as well as the highest charting reggae single in history, after spending seven consecutive weeks at Number 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1993.
I signed an autograph for Snowās daughter talked to his manager, invited them all to the event in Fort Myers and next thing I knew, I was being asked intimate questions about my career as a āmaverick artistā on a soundstage, in front of a television camera. According to Todd, who watched the show on a monitor backstage, the half-hour interview was āperfectā.
Outside, the weather was beyond nasty, torrential downpours and lightning strikes peppered the day and were forecast deep into the night. My trip across Alligator Alley to Fort Myers would be a dangerous journey. Thunder struck as Todd and I exited the television station, making a mad dash for the rental car, through deep puddles, under umbrellas that failed to keep us dry. Soaked, we began our adventure to the west coast of Florida, in the name of charity.
Halfway over the treacherous road that cuts through the Everglades, I received a text message from Mr. Bill advising me that Skunk Baxter, formerly of the Doobie Brothers and Steely Dan, had arrived at the Fort Myers beachfront mansion with his grandchildren, which meant there was no room for Todd and I.
There are no U-turns or exits on Alligator Alley, itās one- way in and one-way out so, we had no choice but to stay the course. The weather was grave, as we drove cautiously through the darkness of night with little road visibility, in spite of glaring high beams, that only shined light on our immediate predicament. I could not respond to Mr. Billās untimely message in the midst of such severe weather because of our remote location, in the middle of the Everglades, which offered no cell phone reception.
After a grueling five and a half-hour road trip, Todd and I made it to Mr. Billās home near the Henry Ford and Thomas Edison estates in Fort Myers. My cell phone battery was dead, so I knocked on the door and asked Mr. Billās housekeeper to notify him of our arrival. I smiled at Todd, when I noticed the framed painting of, āCristomujerā, which I had personally signed and gifted to Mr. Bill when he last stayed at my home as a houseguest, hanging prominently on his living room wall. Todd and I looked at framed photographs of Mr. Bill standing side by side with every single United States President since Richard Nixon and other notables in the music and entertainment world, as his voice carried over the cell phone speaker of his house-keeper.
āDonāt send them over to the beach house.ā Mr. Bill said, unaware that he was on speakerphone.
āShall I set them up here?ā The housekeeper asked, with an embarrassed look on his face.
āNo! Let them sleep in the fixer-upper.ā
āBut, thereās no beds or furniture, thereās no hot water or locks on the doors. Are you sure? Thereās plenty of room here.ā
āI donāt want them staying at the house, do what I tell you.ā Mr. Bill said firmly before ending the call abruptly.
āI thought you said this guy was your friend?ā Todd asked.
āHe is.ā I said, with a confused look on my face, as I dripped onto Mr. Billās wooden floor in front of his housekeeper, who looked back at me with pity.
āThereās a mattress in the garage. The garage is full of junk. If you guys help me, we can take the mattress out, put it in my truck, and you both can sleep on it over at the fixer-upper.ā
An hour later, after wiping cobwebs and spiders off a stained mattress in the middle of a thunderstorm, we arrived at what appeared to be a crack house near the Edison Estate in Fort Myers. There were no blinds, shades or window treatments for privacy. Puddles riddled rooms in fluid Rorschach shapes from leaks in the ceiling. A blood red stain covered the kitchen floor in the manner of a human body drawn by Keith Haring, which made the place appear like a crime scene.
“You’ll have to climb through the window.” Mr. Bill’s housekeeper announced before exiting through the dank garage.
“I thought I heard you say there was no locks on the doors.” Todd interjected.
“Well, I don’t have keys for the padlocks used to secure the front and back exits, so, you’ll have to climb through the window if you really got to get out, otherwise, just come and go through the garage.” Mr. Bill’s housekeeper said in visible breaths that sliced through the pungent smell of mildew permeating the carport. “Doors broke, so it’s always open.”
“Are you serious?” Todd asked, looking at me sternly.
āOh, and the toilets donāt work.ā Mr. Billās housekeeper paused before adding, āAnd, IĀ wouldn’tĀ drink the water either, itās brown.ā
Todd and I were out of there, back into the storm, without a place to rest, hours before I was supposed to perform for handicapped children in Naples and thousands of classic rock and Boston Red Sox fans in Fort Myers.
After Midnight, we showed up at the beachfront mansion, where we were initially supposed to stay. I called Mr. Bill, to let him know we were outside but heĀ didn’tĀ answer the phone. Minutes later, he respondedĀ with a text message that read, āYou canāt stay here. Donāt ring the bell, youāll wake the bandā.
Todd and I stared in disbelief, through buckets of rain being scattered by windshield wipers, at a huge RV that could easily sleep a dozen people, parked outside the beachfront mansion, while I contacted my manager to explain the situation.
āCan you find us a hotel?ā I pleaded.
Half an hour later, my manager called back to say that all hotels in the Fort Myers area were booked. She said she would try to find us a hotel within a hundred mile radius and call back once she had secured a room for us.
In that time, Todd received a call from his friend, who had just finished performing at the VH1 fashion show in New York City, he was on speakerphone, so I could hear every detail of how awesome the event was and how amazing the star-studded after-party was going. I slumped into the seat as Todd stared down at me. I felt like such a shmuck.
āWhy donāt you guys fly over on the red eye? There are hot models everywhere! Iāve got a suite at the Marriott Times Square for the weekend, the partyās just begun!ā
Finally, around 2 a.m., my manager called with reservations for a hotel in Naples, not far from the Able Academy, where I was supposed to arrive at 8 a.m. to rehearse for my 9 oāclock performance with the All Stars in front of FOX News cameras and a roomful of handicapped children. The hotel was about two hours away, according to the GPS. It would cost me $287.00 to rest my head for a few hours, or I could hop on a flight with Todd and be in Manhattan, cavorting with A-list celebrities and models all weekend.
āItās up to you.ā Todd said. āI can drive us to the airport or to the hotel. Mr. Bill doesnāt sound like a very good friend and I donāt think heās going to honor his word. Letās cut our losses and get out of here.ā
āYeah, but I promised these kids. My manager says theyāve been studying my work for weeks and are looking forward to meeting me.ā I answered, not sure why I cared, since, I donāt have children of my own and I much prefer partying with women than I do playing with kids. My instinct told me to get on a plane to New York and live like a party animal for the weekend but my heart told me to do the right thing and stay for the youngsters at the Able Academy.
Darkness shifted from crimson to amethyst before turning azure in the heaven above, shining a bright light in my eyes through the window shades, as the alarm went off, two hours after falling asleep. Todd stayed in bed; there was no waking him up. My brain was mush from lack of rest and my body ached from being trapped in a car for over ten hours. When I arrived at the Able Academy, the director of the school told me that Mr. Bill had just called to inform her that the All Star Band was not coming and since the band had cancelled, FOX News decided to abort the affair as well.
I had never worked with handicapped children before in my life. Without a clue, I told the director of the school to follow my lead and we would make something special happen for the rising generation. I determined the disabled kids would get a MAMM Jam, with or without Mr. Bill and his All Star Band.
āThe show must go onā, I thought, through all the confusion. So, I grabbed some canvas, paints and brushes, out of the trunk of my car; found a radio and some strobe lights and hustled into the Able Academy as a text message from my manager came in, reminding me not to be late for the āBoston Strong MAMM Jamā , honoring victims of the Boston bombing at the Boston Red Sox Spring Training opener in Fort Myers at noon.
I told the school director that I only had two hours before having to rush over to the stadium. She said it wasnāt enough time to spend with all the kids and that they would be disappointed because they had spent weeks examining my work in anticipation of my arrival.
I suggested doubling the number of youngsters I would work with at a time and she said that would be impossible because mentally handicapped children could be uncomfortable and unpredictable in large groups. She warned me that even with the most experienced of teachers and professional counselors, they could get violent or unruly. I told her we didnāt have a choice and so my spontaneous adventure in art therapy with the special kids at the Able Academy began.
CHAPTER TWO – BOSTON STRONG
āAll interesting artists are autodidacts.āĀ ā Massimiliano Gioni
InĀ some Italian provinces, the word āartistā is a synonym for dunce.Ā An artist must walk a tightrope between being perceived as Ā an Ā illustrious nobody or a famous intellectual by critics disguised as cultural sycophants in an arena filled with smoke and mirrors. Being a creator is not a career for fragile egos, so to be a virtuoso, one must have thick skin.
I have been called all sorts of things by critics, not all of them complimentary, but I survive and my work will live on, long after my corporal being exits this plane of existence, in the expanding multi-universe.
In 2005, after performing a MAMM Jam with Rhythmm Epkins, drummer for āThe English Beatā, and founder of Ā the R&B Ā funk Ā group, āMind, Body & Soulā, Ā to Ā raise Ā money Ā for Ā the Ā mentally handicapped, at a sold-out show in Bakersfield, California, where the first five rows were reserved for the mentally challenged, who were the most appreciative audience I have ever had the pleasure of performing Ā in Ā front Ā of, I became known, by some critics, as, āVictor-Hugo: The Artist of Retardsā.
When I performed MAMM Jams during 2009 Art Basel Week in Miami, Florida to sold-out, standing room only crowds attending the infamous, āCrackhead Jesus: The Second Coming Art Exhibitionā, at the Ā āBuck 15 Gallery Loungeā Ā on Ā Lincoln Road, Ā a large group of women from Weight Watchers joined me onstage while I painted the unique moment on canvas, at which point, I became known, by some critics, as, āVictor-Hugo: The Artist of Fat Chicks and Retardsā.
Some Ā call Ā me, Ā āThe Maverick Artist Victor-Hugoā others Ā call Ā me, Ā āThe Maverick Meatballā. Whatever Ā the Ā case, Ā Iām Ā happy. Ā However, as I am an artist/activist birthed from a business background, Ā I’ve Ā come Ā to Ā notice Ā that artists are often treated like āThe-Retards-of-the-Business-Worldā instead of sober-entrepreneurs, Ā by Ā some Ā ignorant Ā top Ā brass. Though, thankfully, not all influence makers exploit an artistsā passion, those who choose to dim the light instead of fueling the soul, manifest dark energy that fills the multi-universe, all this, in spite of knowing that entertainment is, in fact, like any other business, an industry that must flow perpetually, in balance of soul currency, to exist infinitely.
Art is not cheap to create. Ā It Ā takes Ā effort, Ā ingenuity and time and since time is money, if I had a Bitcoin, for every time someone, like Mr. Bill, told me, Ā āWhy donāt you perform for free, itāll be good exposure?ā or, āHow about giving me one of your paintings, for free, to hang in my mansion, so all my filthy-rich friends can see your work, while smoking weed?āĀ Iād be a tycoon of Rothschild proportions.
Do these unenlightened moguls ask Doctors to perform surgery for free or ask lawyers to satisfy their legal issues, free of charge, because itās good practice?
I Ā donāt Ā think Ā so. Ā An Ā artist Ā must Ā always Ā risk Ā failure, Ā for failure Ā is Ā part Ā of Ā the Ā process Ā but thatĀ doesn’tĀ mean creators should accept the status quoĀ of double-dealing in business matters or any other affairs. An artist has class mobility, for that reason, particularly in a disturbed society, a virtuoso must ask the right questions, open consciousness, raise awareness and elevate minds.
An artist should serve mankind, for that reason, humanity should not become complacent with the profiteering of an artist because a true artist can be childlike forever and the exploitation of children is Ā detrimental Ā to Ā any Ā culture Ā pursuing Ā Enlightenment. Ā Some muddled Ā people Ā feel Ā the worldĀ doesn’tĀ need artists because artĀ doesn’tĀ meetĀ our basic needs to survive but thatās bogus; art fuels the soulĀ currency of human capital that trumps any banknote or material treasure.
These thoughts raced through my aching head, as I prepared to meet my audience of special children at The Able Academy in Naples, Florida, hours before my gig with the All Stars at the Boston Red Sox Spring Training Opener in Fort Myers, Florida, to honor victims of the Boston Marathon bombing. As if taunting my choice of career, the outstretched, blank canvas, measuring 36 x 71, clipped to the front of a long table turned on itās side, resting atop another elongated table, stared back at me, screaming, āFail! Fail! Fail!ā
Iāve heard people say that animals can sense fear and weakness. I donāt know what experts say about children with autism but I can tell you this, the moment the Able Academy director opened the door, to let kids into the room where I stood vulnerable, feeling helpless and alone in a cruel world, a beautiful boy ran to me, clasped my knees lovingly and looked up at me like a cherub in a chapel. I felt such overwhelming affection from the pint-sized angel holding a tight grip on me that, in an instant, all the negativity and cynicism inside of me washed away like the Great Flood. I fought back tears in that abstract moment that seemed to last a lifetime because I did not want to break down in front of the celestial beings surrounding me.
One by one, frail angels entered the room, coalescing in the ecstasy of colors, dancing freely with paint and brushes in their tiny hands as they guided me through the purity of love being expressed on canvas without shame, guilt or remorse.Ā I noticed one child slumped in the corner with his face in his hands. He beckoned me with magnificent eyes that stared at me through the cracks in his fingers.
āāWould you like to paint with us?ā I asked, as I knelt down before him.
āArt has power.ā He said, letting his guard down.
āYes, it does.ā I said as I placed a brush in his hand. āShow me what you can do.ā
āBelieve in your greatness and it will be the death of your creativity.ā He said, taking my hand in his and leading me to the canvas where we melted into the void of color alongside the other offspring.
The joy was so intense, time flew by the way magic moments do and before I knew it the unique experience was over. I said goodbye to the kids, packed my equipment, called Todd, who was patiently waiting outside the hotel after having checked out and assured him I was on my way to get him for the hour-long journey to Fort Myers.
He reminded me that we were running late.
Before leaving, the stunned school director asked me how I had managed to get the catatonic child to speak. Ā She Ā said Ā it Ā was Ā a Ā miracle Ā because Ā the Ā juvenile Ā never Ā spoke Ā to Ā anyone. Ā I Ā told Ā her Ā I communicated with respect and dignity. The innocent confided in me that the adultsĀ didn’tĀ understand them andĀ didn’tĀ pay attention,Ā whichĀ frankly, was no surprise to me, since out of the mouth of babes comes truth and most adults canāt handle the truth, which is why some adolescents choose to stay silent.
Traffic was at a crawl, leading up to the stadium in Fort Myers.Ā It seemed all of creation had come to cheer for the World Series Champions at the Spring Training Opener. My manager had coordinated for the Boston Red Sox to sign the painting created with the Able Academy children, for the artwork to be auctioned off in their benefit but when I got to the stadium, Ā Mr. Ā Bill Ā chastised Ā me Ā for Ā my manager doing so, claiming she had overstepped her bounds, āItās my show, damn it!āĀ He stated indefatigably before adding, āHurry up, youāre late! The band goes on stage in 10 minutes.ā
āThis is your friend?ā Todd said, looking at Mr. Bill with disgust and me with sympathy, as Mr. Billās girlfriend Melissa approached me with open arms and a huge smile.
āOh my God! I heard you got my son to speak, I wish I could have been there.ā She said holding back tears.
āWhyĀ weren’tĀ you?ā I thought to myself, sinking into her warm embraceĀ while Mr. Bill stared back at me with contempt that I could not explain.
One by one, the All Stars embraced me before going on stage. I was reunited with members of Bon Jovi, Boston, The Doobie Brothers, Steely Dan, The Wailers, Third World, The James Brown Band and Foster Child, none of which were aware of the harrowing experience that had preceded our moment in time before the Boston Red Sox fans in Fort Myers. Like the victims of the Boston bombing, I was determined to carry on, undaunted by adversity, and so I did, creating āBoston Strongā alongside music industry titans, in front of a live audience on February 28, 2014.
The painting, āBoston Strongā, is signed byĀ Bon Joviās bass player, Hugh McDonald ; Fran Sheehan, the former bassist and original member of the band Boston; Barry Goudreau, guitarist and original member of the band Boston; Leroy Romans, former keyboard player for Third World and The Wailers; Robert āMouseyā Thompson, drummer for the late James Brown; Danny Beissel of the band Foster Child; B.A.M. (Bad Ass Musician) and Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo.
Philanthropy is great but some charities are a sham whose only purpose is to make money for the producer of the fundraiser. Most charities are legitimate but others exploit children, veterans or the handicapped by using paid fundraisers whose fees eat up most of a donation through loopholes, so very little money is actually shared with those most in need.
In 2013, total giving to charitable organizations was $335.17 billion. Hundreds of charities claim to help the disadvantaged but how much of the money raised actually goes to the cause being donated to and how much cash goes to the fundraiser?
The answer, unfortunately, is almost nothing goes to the motive. Even if regulators try to shut down unscrupulous fundraisers for fooling donors, most operate without fear of reckoning because mainstream media, that survives on the public trust of its audience, has accepted exploitation of the underprivileged as status quo and therefore under reports the fact that very little money makes it to those who need it most when it comes to fundraising.
Case in point, the story of Charles Runnells, who covers arts and entertainment for The News Press in Fort Myers, Florida. When asked to research allegations of fraud by an alleged scammer in his community, focusing on specific causes like handicapped children and disabled veterans to play on the generosity of his readership, Mr. Runnells dismissed the accusation, as not worthy of his time for a thorough, in-depth investigation.
If you are thinking about giving to a charity, beware of fundraisers who: refuse to provide detailed information about identity, mission, costs and how donations will be used; wonāt provide proof that a contribution is tax deductible; use high-pressure tactics in shaming you to donate; refuse to provide proof of percentage of donation actually going to the charity; refuse to provide forensic accounting of how much money will be going to the fundraiser, after expenses; are not registered with the state as a charity or fundraiser.
If you think youāve been the victim of a charity scam, file a complaint with the Federal Trade Commission or contact your State Attorney. There is no glory in being a stooge. Stand strong in the face of adversity. Your action can help detect patterns of unscrupulousness that may lead to investigations and prosecutions.
I wrote some of what you just read on canvas, in front of Red Sox fans, during my performance at the Boston Strong Modern Art Music Movement (MAMM) Jam in Fort Myers, FL. When Iām on stage, I enter a trance, filling the void with colorful letters that swirl into words that dance in syncopation to the wavelengths and frequencies of sounds that surround me, manifesting sentences that educate audiences in a cacophony of coloring that provides a foundation, for the work of art created to serve as a historical document of the event, for future generations to consider, and digest, in light of the fact that, if you tell the truth, you donāt have to remember anything, because truth is imprinted on the canvas of life.
If whatās alleged about Bill Cosby is less sweet than a pudding pop, watchdog journalists, like Mark Whitaker, wonāt investigate thoroughly; so too when it comes to Mr. Bill in the news press. In 1914, Walter Williams wrote āThe Journalistās Creedā. Essentially, it reads:
I believe in the profession of journalism.
I believe that the public journal is a public trust, that all connected with it are, to the full measure of responsibility, trustees for the public, that all acceptance of lesser service than the public service is a betrayal of trust.
I believe that clear thinking, clear statement, accuracy and fairness are fundamental to good journalism.
I believe that a journalist should write only what he holds in his heart to be true.
I believe that suppression of the news, for any consideration other than the welfare of society, is indefensible.
I believe that no one should write as a journalist what he would not say as a gentleman, that bribery by oneās own pocket book is as much to be avoided as bribery by the pocketbook of another, that individual responsibility may not be escaped by pleading anotherās instructions or anotherās dividends.
I believe that advertising, news and editorial columns should alike serve the best interests of readers; that a single standard of helpful truth and cleanness should prevail for all; that supreme test of good journalism is the measure of its public service.
I believe that the journalism which succeeds the best and best deserves success fears God and honors man; is stoutly independent; unmoved by pride of opinion or greed of power; constructive, tolerant but never careless, self-controlled, patient, always respectful of itās readers but always unafraid, is quickly indignant at injustice; is unswayed by the appeal of the privilege or the clamor of the mob; seeks to give every man a chance, and as far as law, an honest wage and recognition of human brotherhood can make it so, an equal chance is profoundly patriotic while sincerely promoting international good will and cementing world-comradeship, is a journalism of humanity, of and for todayās world.
Well, that was then and this is now. In the internet age of NBC News Director, Brian Williams, being everywhere but in reality, journalistās hide behind clips of kittens, puppies and laughing babies trending online, while wiping their asses with the Journalistās Creed, which is why, I fused Hunter S. Thompsonās gonzo journalism with Salvador Daliās style of impregnating subliminal messages into psychedelically-poetic-cryptic works of art, to create modern art gonzo journalism for The Lied To Generation through the Modern Art Music Movement (MAMM).
The twenty-four hour news cycle is brimming with cross-legged beauties wearing little more than big smiles while flashing their stately pair of gams for the cameraās voyeuristic gaze as teleprompters feed them the horrific news of the day, before thanking rainbow colored pundits tripping over themselves to avoid saying, āYouāre welcomeā, in response to the inviting news anchors gratitude for joining the staged broadcast. Instead, we as audience witness talking heads state, with great inflection intimating courteous one-upmanship, āNo! ThankĀ you, for havingĀ me, on your program.ā
One can only imagine the number of viewers who masturbate while watching the news, in a world where titillation has replaced fact and, on that note, with a long, hard stroke of my thick, wet brush I finished painting āBoston Strongā in front of an open-mouthed audience in Fort Myers, Florida, that was begging for more. Alas, there was no encore from the All-Star Band, at the Boston Red Sox Spring Training Home-Opener. The eager crowd got what they deserved and from the satisfied look on their faces, they loved every moment of the MAMM Jam experience.
āWhat the hell was that?ā Mr. Bill asked, when I got off stage.
āModern art gonzo journalism.ā I answered, nonplussed. āI paint the news.ā
āThank God it wasnāt one of your DNA Series.ā Mr. Bill shook his head in disgust and walked away muttering. āSperm painting.ā
āHey Bill, where am I staying tonight? I donāt have a place to rest and last night cost me three hundred bucks out of pocket. Whatās up?ā I asked the back of Mr. Billās head.
āWeāll talk about it later.ā Mr. Bill answered, without turning around. āIām busy.ā
At that moment, I remembered a rumor about a friend of mine who plays with The Cars, J Geils Band and The Bellevue Cadillac. Allegedly, Mr. Bill had asked the beloved musician to join the All Star Band for a gig on Wall Street to raise money for wounded veterans but when it came time to reimburse the artist for travel expenses and accommodations, as promised, Mr. Bill failed to honor his word and left the well-respected performer in the red.
Itās a small world and news travels fast about a personās reputation but all I knew about Mr. Bill at that point was, that like Bill Cosby, both men were highly regarded, well-liked and doted on by those who did not wish to disturb the Natural Order of Things in the entertainment world, so bad press was hard to come by for either man and uttering anything negative about Mr. Bill or Bill Cosby, was simply taboo in the entertainment industry.
I chose to reserve judgment as I stared at Mr. Bill ignoring my concerns in favor of being fawned by fans, backstage, in front of his girlfriend, Melissa. The truth is hard to swallow, so I buried my instinct and threw myself into the only thing that made sense to me at that point; the steady process of cleaning brushes, packing paint cans and breaking down my easel after an exhausting MAMM Jam performance.
THE UNDECIDED VOTER ASKS: IS NEWS MEDIA COLLUDING WITH “THE CLINTON FOUNDATION” AND OTHERS TO EXPLOIT HANDICAPPED CHILDREN, WOMEN AND VETERANS, IN GROSS VIOLATION OF PUBLIC TRUST?
“The Retarded Artist From NYC Gets Call From Mr. Bill Asking Favor To Perform For Abel Academy Kids” by Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II
āI just ran into Taylor Swift Shabbat and Clive Davis, I thought you were catching the red eye. Where the hell are you guys?ā
āWeāre at the Boston Red Sox game.ā Todd answered his animated friend, who was calling from a New York City Fashion Week event.
āWell get your ass over here, Beyonce and Jay-Z invited me to their crib for a V.I.P. after party tonight and they said I can bring some friends.ā
āI canāt make it, the Jewish Sabbath is in a few hours and we still donāt have a place to stay. Maybe tomorrow, after Shabbat.ā
āWhat? I thought you said your friend set you up at a beach house with a bunch of rock stars.ā
āHe did but his friend bailed out on us and now weāre wandering about like vagabonds.ā
The crack of a wooden bat smashing a baseball over the fence for a home-run sent the sold-out crowd into a frenzy drowning out the humiliating conversation going on beside me between Todd and his V.I.P. friend in Manhattan. I could hear every word screaming out of his cell phone as my Android vibrated to alert me that my manager was calling.
āYouāre not going to believe this.ā My manager said when I answered her call. āMr. Bill told me to have Todd pay for a hotel but there are no hotels, itās season, everything is booked.ā
āWhat?ā I answered in disbelief as Todd ended his call and eavesdropped on my conversation.
āMr. Bill said, Toddās Jewish.ā
āWhat does that have to do with anything?ā I asked.
āMr. Bill said, thereās no such thing as a poor Jew, therefore,ā My manager sounded stunned by his logic.
āI assume, he figuredā¦ā
āI knew it. Mr. Billās an anti-semite!Ā He looked at me kind of funny when we met. Stop being a cheap Jew and pay for a hotel.ā Todd growled at me as he rearranged the black yamaka, adorned with the Star of David, on his head.
āHot dogs! Peanuts! Get your hot dogs and peanuts here.ā The vendor shouted as timber splintered after colliding with a baseball that flew over the fence sending hearts soaring for the World Series champions who manifested another point on the scoreboard as, exhausted, I rose, embarrassed and confused, in a sea of Boston Red Sox fans.
āThatās not happening. Toddās not paying for the hotel. What the hell is wrong with Mr. Bill?ā I shouted into the phone as the crowd around me reverberated with delight.
āWhy donāt you tell him that?ā My manager asked. āIsnāt Mr. Bill with you?ā
āNo. He said he would come by to get Todd and I before the seventh inning stretch, so we could all go out for a late lunch, itās already the bottom of the eighth.ā
āI told you, Mr. Bill aināt coming!ā Todd shouted over my shoulder into the phone. āIām starving.ā
āGet Todd a hotdog.ā My manager suggested as I put her call on speakerphone.
āIām Kosher! That dogās not kosher! I need to follow Jewish dietary law.ā
āListen, I found a beach house for you guys. The owners are big fans and willing to trade accommodations in exchange for four tickets to the All Star MAMM Jam in Fort Myers tomorrow night. I told Mr. Bill and he said he would get back to me but I havenāt heard from him, so if you see him, tell him to call me ASAP.ā My manager said before hanging up.
āLetās get out of here.ā Todd kvetched. āShabbat starts at sunset.ā
We sat in traffic for hours with all the snowbirds, waiting to hear from Mr. Bill but he never returned my calls or text messages. Finally, my manager called with the news that Mr. Bill refused to barter four tickets in exchange for safe shelter.
āHe said Todd should stop being cheap and pay for a hotel.ā My manager added with disgust, as I put her on speakerphone. āMr. Bill suggested you guys stay at his house or a trailer thatās supposed to be parked in his driveway later tonight.ā
āI need to find shelter before the sun goes down. ā Todd insisted. āThat anti-semites home is too far away at this point, weāll never make it before Shabbat.ā
My manager promised to continue searching for hotel accommodations on the web while we dodged in and out of roadside motels without no-vacancy signs, through crawling traffic, as the sun beat down on us before beginning to set.
āThereās got to be something.ā I pleaded with the motel desk clerk who, like all the other hotel clerks Iād interacted with in the twilight, informed me that because we were, āIn-Seasonā, there were no vacancies.
āMy cousin, owns a motel just over the bridge, itās called The Welcome Inn. I will call him now to see if he has any rooms available.ā The pungent smelling clerk said in an almost unintelligible East Indian accent.
āPlease hurry, I think my friends going to turn into a Pumpkin if I donāt find him a place to stay before sundown.ā I said, while looking out at Todd shifting nervously while reading the Torah, behind the wheel of our packed rental car in the parking lot.
āGood news.ā I told Todd as I entered the car five minutes later. āWe have a room at The Welcome Inn, I made reservations. Itās just over the bridge. We should make it before sunset.ā
And, we did. Just as the sun began to set, we drove past the hookers and crack-heads into the parking lot of The Welcome Inn. When I opened the door to our room, the first thing I saw was graffiti. Written in black magic marker on the dark green wall, beneath the black mildew from the leaking, air-conditioning unit, were the words, āFuck Youā, staring back at me. The writing on the wall was literally a sign of things to come during my stay with The Hebrew Hammer on Shabbos at, what came to be known as, āThe Unwelcome Innā.
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR- HUGO VACA II BEFORE GETTING ON STAGE TO PERFORM MODERN ART MUSIC MOVEMENT WITH MUSIC INDUSTRY LEGENDS TO BENEFIT CHILDREN’S CHARITY.
“I’ve seen the dark side of charity, the hypocrisy of philanthropy, enabled by weak news media and neutered journalists, that fail to tellĀ Ā altruisticĀ people where their donations are really going and how little money actually goes, into helping the cause.” – Maverick Ā Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II
Press, Blatantly Reporting Opinion And Hyperbole As News, Has A Frustrated Public Turning To Artists, To Document Untold History, On Canvas, In Lieu Of Weak Newspaper And Television Reporting In The Age Of Donald Trump And Hillary Clinton.
In the words of the alleged-serial-killer-spinal-surgeon, operating out of the Washington D.C. Baltimore, Maryland area, Dr. Charles Edwards: āYou can get away with murderĀ because you can always count on cops being overworked, underpaid and lazy and lawyers being greedy.ā
Severe cuts in staffing high-quality investigative journalists at mainstream media news outlets, portends a disturbing trend, that should concern anyone who worries about living in a functioning Democracy.
āIF A MAJOR NEWS ORGANIZATION LIKE NBC IS GOING TO REDUCE THE NUMBER, AND IT SOUNDS LIKE A SIGNIFICANT NUMBER, OF THE PEOPLE WHO GO OUT AND GATHER INFORMATION TO GO INTO THE DAILY STREAM OF NEWS, ITāS GOING TO THIN OURĀ KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLDĀ SOMEWHAT.ā ā BILL KOVACH
So, then, what is one to do in a world, where weak investigative journalists, peddle opinion as news and see “The Clinton Death List” andĀ the World Trade Center, Building Seven, spontaneous-implosion, in New York City, on September 11, 2001, as conspiracy theories?
MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALISM PAINTS HISTORY IN A WAY THAT MAINSTREAM TELEVISION NEWS OUTLETS CAN NOT AFFORD TO DO.
Hopeless people, claiming cops don’t care and investigative journalists won’t listen, contact modern-art-gonzo journalists with stories that go unreported or woefully under-reported in weak mainstream media news outlets, due to lack of will, budget and corporate interest.
WORLD TRADE CENTER CONTEMPORARY ART MEME, EXPLORES THE FACT, THAT U.S. NEWS MEDIA, WOULD HAVE PUBLIC TRUST BELIEVE, THAT THE WORLD TRADE CENTER BUILDING SEVEN, COULD DEFY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS.
In the way jesters,Ā during the Dark Ages, were able to point out, that the King was not wearing any clothes, so too, modern-art-gonzo journalism is able to skim past false truths, fed in soundbites, to skeptical public trust, in creating a vernacular and visualĀ , “Diary Of The World On Canvas”, that interprets the court of public opinion, in brief moments of time, throughout history.
āCOMPLIANCE IS NOT A DESTINATION, ITāS A JOURNEY SAYS THE SECURITIES AND EXCHANGE COMMISSION OFFICE OF CREDIT RATINGS DIRECTOR TO THE UNITED SLAVES OF AMERICA.ā, IS A WORK OF MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALISM CREATED BY MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II, USING BEAR STERNS STATIONARY, FROM THE OFFICE OF A SENIOR MANAGING DIRECTOR, AS CANVAS, FOR THIS MIXED MEDIA WORK OF ADHESIVE GRAFFITI FINE ART.
The world has become so immune to corruption and dishonesty that lying thieves are becoming the elected choice of people who have given up and feel safe in the status quo of false promises and exploitation.
LIKE A FLY ON THE WALL, OR, āWHEREāS WALDOā, MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALIST, VICTOR HUGO VACA II, CAN BE FOUND IN THE BACKGROUND, CONTEMPLATING LIFEāS CURIOUS MOMENTS?
Corporations, like Nestle, buy water for pennies on the dollar, from natural springs, syphoned away, by greed, from public consumption and spend millions of dollars on advertising, with U.S. news networks, while people in Flint Michigan, are poisoned by corrupt government officials, under the nose of journalists, distracted by Miley Cyrus, twerking Robin Thicke, on an awards show.
āNEWS IS ABOUT ADVERTISING AND ADVERTISING IS A BUSINESSā ā VICTOR-HUGO VACA II
News media turned a blind eye to the plight of the disenfranchised without a voice, until contemporary artists, like Cher and Beyonce, started raising public awareness about the reality surrounding us all, as cultured beings, in a state of rapid change and awakening.
DETAIL FROM FEATURED PAINTING, CREATED IN 2007 AT A MODERN ART MUSIC MOVEMENT REHEARSAL WITH, MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II AND POWER, FROM RYTHMM EPKINS, āMIND, BODY AND SOULā, BEFORE A SOLD OUT CONCERT, IN BAKERSFIELD, CALIFORNIA, TO BENEFIT MENTALLY HANDICAPPED CHILDREN. Ā
The following is an emailed example, with the name of the sender omitted to protect sources of information, of theĀ sorts of requests from citizens of Earth, to modern-art-gonzo-journalists, in the hopes, that their story of the human condition, will be documented in art, for future generations of investigative journalists and historians, to revisit artistic canvassed chronicles, in the pursuit of a remedy, for the growing cancer of dishonesty and corruption in the evolution of human nature:
āIN MY DIARY OF THE WORLD ON CANVAS, I PAINT WHAT I SEE, AND WHAT I SEE IS THE BEAUTIFUL CHAOS THAT SURROUNDS US ALL IN THE MULTI-UNIVERSE.ā- MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II.
Hi,
My friend asked me to email you the following basic info:
– Very high profile business individuals involved
– $18 Million invested
– Potential dirty money from Mexico
– City official involved with under the table “help”
– Embezzlement
– Infringement of ownership
– Fraudulent transfer to avoid paying due to local businesses ($1.5+ MM due)
– Documents forgeries
– Known name and about to reopen under a new name within the next 2-3 months
– Currently several lawsuits already filed against various group’s entities
– Etc.
Ex-executive with thousands of supporting documents potentially ready to talk under certain conditions and guarantied multiple city publication (getting involved other journalist to publish it nationally)
Let me know if any interests.
MODERN-ART-GONZO-JOURNALIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II
“When I contacted WSVN 7 Fox News, after Hurricane Wilma, about a clear and present danger, impacting the lives of over fifteen-hundred residents, inĀ a high rise building, destroyedĀ by a tornado, the newsroom said: ‘Call us back when you see burning bodies flying out of the building, otherwise, it’s not news.'”. – Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II
AWARD-WINNING FILMMAKER MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II
The plan was to release “The Blue Dress”, in the year of election 2016 with much fanfare and promotion, to expected rave reviews, regardless of political affiliation,Ā as a smart-dark-comedy. Victor-Hugo approached the project from the perspective of the heroic everyday challenge of every man and woman attempting to maintain and safeguard any long term commitment, or relationship, like marriage, in the face of a rabid, unforgiving-public, in search of human foibles and imperfections in celebrities and public figures, so as to offset their own immediate shortcomings in life.
MAVERICK ARTIST VICTOR-HUGO VACA II : PEERING THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS INTO THE MULTI-UNIVERSE.
“As an artist, I look through theĀ existential prism of being in the mind of Bill Clinton, a beloved and feared lawyer, politician, suspected sex-offender, elected to the most powerful position on earth, as President of the United States, in command of the worlds most powerful military force, it was definitely something I looked forward to capturing and translating into the performances of talented actors, expressed through visual metaphors, on film, with a solid soundtrack, for the Lied To Generation to consume and digest, subconsciously, for generations.” Victor-Hugo said about his plans to direct the film.
āTHE CLINTON MACHINE: STOP MONICA LEWINSKY STAINS BEFORE THEY START.ā Ā BY VICTOR HUGO VACA II
Alas, as fate would have it, a week before signing the contract to start production on the dark comedy inspired, by the part of the strange Bill and Hillary Clinton love story that President Clinton conveniently left out of his forty-one minute, “I Met A Girl Speech”, at the DNC, inside the Wells Fargo Center in Philadelphia, PA during the 2016 Democratic National Convention, the producer died of natural causes and “The Blue Dress” was never manifested onto the big screen. “That’s too bad, because it was a great script.” Says Victor-Hugo, adding, “I would have produced a great film from that script but as the saying goes, that’s Hollywood.”
PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON ā THE SEX OFFENDER SERIES
The Undecided Voter and United Slaves Of America watch the Bread and Circus perpetrated glaringly, by unapologetically biased mainstream media, as evidenced in the Wikileaks DNC Hillary Clinton Machine email leak, broadcasting Democratic elections, by the leaders of the Free World, in the New World Order, being overshadowed by the enigmatic Clinton Machine, suggesting a false narrative that, Donald Trump, is a Manchurian Candidate, working in collusion with Russians, to expose deep-rooted racism and corruption within core leadership of the U.S. Democratic party.
THE UNDECIDED VOTER
The Undecided Voter digests the impact of Wikileaks DNC Hillary Clinton Machine email leak, revealing ingrained anti-semitism and racism within the top branches of leadership inside the Clinton Machine.
WIKILEAKS REVEALS DNC CLINTON MACHINE EMAILS SUGGESTING DEEP ROOTED RACISM IN DEMOCRATIC PARTY LEADERSHIP
The Undecided Voter contemplates the severe impact of National Security issuesĀ that demand FBI investigation and prosecution by the Attorney General, if the security of the United States Of America, is ever to be taken seriously by any world power again; in particular, highly negligent intelligence issues, surrounding the hacking of DNC and Secretary Of State, Hillary Clinton’s, private server, which the presidential candidate admittedly kept, when Secretary Of State, without permission, beside her toilet, without any leader-like consideration of public trust and national security.
CAN HILLARY CLINTON, AS COMMANDER IN CHIEF, BE BRIBED BY RUSSIAN HACKERS?
The Undecided Voter wonders about the very real possibility that an adversarial world power, like Russia or China, could have hacked the unauthorized private server containing above-top-secret-classified-information that then, Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, knowingly kept beside her toilet in the bathroom of her home, without permission, when she was entrusted by the American public, to lead, serve and protect American children and families, by safeguarding the highest level of National Security secrets, against penetration and manipulation, by the most dangerous enemies of our United States.
CAN CHINESE HACKERS BRIBE PRESIDENT HILLARY CLINTON OVER THE MISSING EMAILS FROM HER UNAUTHORIZED CLINTON MACHINE PERSONAL SERVER?
The Undecided Voter, who understands, that the concept of duty can not be taught, it must be livedĀ and military personnel and veterans, who know the meaning of loyalty and the penalty for violating responsibility and duty, such as safeguarding national security, are wary of trusting Hillary Clinton, as Commander In Chief, of the worlds most powerful military force, with above-top-secret National Security Clearance.
THE CLINTON MACHINE CENSORS TRUTH IN FAVOR OF POLITICAL CORRECTNESS ON FACEBOOK & INSTAGRAM.
TheĀ Undecided Voter realizes that national security issues for the DNC, FBI and the CIA should not only be whether Russia is involved in cyber-espionage exposing racist, anti-semitic, anti-atheist and politically incorrect e-mails, delivered to and from from high ranking leadership, inside the heart and soul of the Democratic party; national security issues should also include finding the more than thirty thousand potentially top-secret emails destroyed by Hillary Clinton and her unauthorized-to-do-so, Clinton-Machine-lawyers.
THE CLINTON-MACHINE-KOOL-AID SERVES TO DISTRACT MAINSTREAM- MEDIA-UNCLE-TOMāS-OF-COMMON-SENSE FROM INVESTIGATING DANGEROUS NATIONAL SECURITY TOP SECRET EMAIL ISSUES AS UNDERSTOOD AND APPRECIATED BY THE UNDECIDED VOTER, MILLENNIALS, HISPANICS & BLACKS WITH COMMON SENSE.
The Undecided Voter understands that Hillary Clinton’s hacked emails could serve to potentially blackmail the Commander In Chief, if any of those above-top-secret emails were hacked by any adversarial nations. For that and other reasons, the so-called-party-of-inclusion is having a hard time feeding truth camouflaged in chocolate scented feces, to The Undecided Voter.
UNITED STATES NAVAL ACADEMY (USNA) MIDSHIPMEN OFFICERS FROM THE BRIGADE OF MIDSHIPMAN POINT TO THE HONOR CONCEPT ā āDUTY CAN NOT BE TAUGHT, IT MUST BE LIVED.ā
The Undecided Voter and Millennials are less worried about Donald Trump being a Russian Manchurian Candidate and more interested in knowing what National Security Information was inside the more than thirty-three thousand pages of information Hillary Clinton and the Clinton Machine lawyers destroyed to hide evidence of treasonous behavior when Hillary Clinton took the calculated action of placing an illegal personal server, containing top-secret United States National Security, in her home, unprotected and without safeguards against foreign hackers, in a clear violation of national security policy.
THE HILLARY CLINTON MACHINE ā CRACKHEAD JESUS: DELETE YOUR ACCOUNT
The Undecided Voter thinks it is both unsettling and creepy to hear Bill Clinton describe how he stalked Hillary Clinton after first laying eyes on her and contemplates the logistical problems that will be faced by the United States Secret Service and Government attorneys fencing off the potential threat of having to deal with the reality of Bill Clinton and Anthony Weiner, two public sex offenders and perverts, stalking the White House Halls behind the President of the United States and Huma Abedin.
The Ā creepy-rapey-guy feeling, that The Female Undecided Voter gets, when listening to Bill Clinton talk openly, about how he stalked Hillary Rodham, before grabbing her and making her his wife, before sodomizing a young intern named Monica Lewinsky, as Hillary Clinton’s husband and Commander In Chief, in the White House Oval Office. So, who’s Monica Lewinsky, in the lost chapter of the twisted Bill and Hillary Clinton Love Story?
MONICA LEWINSKY: CRACKHEAD JESUS IS COMING ON THE BILL & HILLARY CLINTON LOVE STORY
Monica Lewinsky and Hillary Clinton, technically, are the women responsible for manifesting the reality of entitlement for unsupervised teens and preteens to look up at their shocked conservative, parents walking into a latch-key-kids after-school-blow-job-party saying, “But Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, according to President Bill Clinton and the Democratic Presidential Candidate Hillary Clinton, a blow job is, technically, not sex.”
Women React To Bill & Hillary Clintonās Love Story At The Democratic National Convention In Philadelphia.
Or, teens on their rug-burned knees looking up, with wide open innocent eyes, telling their elders to: “Lighten up, Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa; we were just taking a break, from talking about how progressive it is, to have Hillary Clinton as a Presidential candidate and role model for young boys and girls and we figured we’d do some oral exercises, before learning important stuff, about Hillary Clinton, as a leader and role model, for women, on the internet.” All said, while wiping their Daddy’s-Little-Girl’s mouths, on Tommy Hilfiger t-shirts.
HILLARY CLINTON CRACKHEAD JESUS
āMy birth name is Victor-Hugo Vaca Jr. On stage, when I am performing with the Modern Art Music Movement, I am known as, The Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo. When I am manifesting creations in the multi-universe as a modern-art-gonzo-journalist,Ā my job is not to be politically correct, it is to witness, observe, analyze and document so asĀ to colorfully communicate the wisdom of ages, for seven generations forward. The point of my artwork, my Diary-Of-The-World-On-Canvas, is really, to make everyone think outside the box.ā
This work of modern-art-gonzo-journalism is dedicated to victims of domestic abuse, both male and female and abused children around the world. If you are a victim of Domestic Abuse get help by contacting The National Domestic Violence Hotline atĀ 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). If you are a victim of child abuse, or witness child abuse, contact Childhelp at 1-800-422-4453.
Parental Advisory Explicit Content
āItās not about breaking up, itās about moving forward.ā – Victor-Hugo Vaca II
Maverick Artist Victor-Hugo Vaca II (Photo Credit: Award Winning Director, Screenwriter, Producer-Alyn Darnay)
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Scene 1
Ā Opera Diva Love
I was with the Opera Diva the day I met the Countess, at a formal charity event for battered women and children. IĀ witnessed a Phoenix rising in stiletto high heels, before the Countess stole my heart and propelled my curious existence into the strangest love story ever told.
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Scene 2
The Undecided Voter
Artist wearing professional headphones and smoking bong, edits soundtrack on computer while watching news and porn on split screen. Unbeknownst to the Artist, a swat team with bomb sniffing dogs circles his home. Cops bang on front door and ring doorbell frantically.
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Scene 3
Ā Ā Ā Ā Opera Diva Skyline
Opera Diva gets sloppy drunk at charity event, while the Artist mingles his way towards the Countess, who is sitting alone on a park bench in the lush courtyard, beside a fountain and burning tiki torches. Their eyes meet before the Artist introduces himself to the Countess and they start a lively conversation that leads to a six-year relationship.
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Scene 4
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Swatting
Artist exhales cloud of smoke while removing headphones, oblivious to Swat team and bomb sniffing dogs surrounding his home. Television shouts breaking-news of criminals, impersonating police officers, on the loose in local area, robbing homes and victimizing people with respect for authority, as the Artist calmly makes his way to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, while scrolling news of innocent people being shot by rookie police officers, the Artist hears loud knocking and doorbell ringing incessantly. The Artist wipes, flushes and stumbles out of the bathroom while lifting his underwear and pants expecting to find his girlfriend, The Countess, locked out, with groceries at the front door.
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Scene 5
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Opera Diva
The Artist says goodnight to the Countess with a kiss on her cheek, after spending a lovely evening together, at a Charity event for battered women and children. As she walks away, toward the valet, an angry gay man, arm in arm with drunken, sobbing, Opera Diva, approaches the Artist shouting, āInstead of flirting, why donāt you take care of your wife, here!ā
āSheās not my wife.ā The Artist says, while propping up the Opera Diva and holding her steady, in a comforting embrace, before escorting her to a waiting car at valet, loading her into passenger seat gently and driving off at conclusion of party.
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Scene 6
The Artist Contemplates Death
The Artist sees hulk in dark sunglasses staring back at him through open living room window as he crawls on floor tightening his belt.
āOpen the door! This is the police!ā Cops shout.
āWhatās going on?ā The terrified Artist asks while crawling out of view past the kitchen into the bedroom where Swat team in body armor stares back at him with weapons drawn through open windows.
āWhat are you doing on the floor? Get up! Open the door! We need to talk to you! Now!ā Cop shouts at Artist, while filming inside of house with body cam.
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Scene 7
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Towers Of Pleasure
Artist makes love to Opera Diva. His mind is elsewhere.
(ARTIST VOICEOVER) “Her legs were like skyscrapers resting on my shoulders as I thrust myself into her long lean body on the night I met my Muse, The Countess, at a charity event in The Grove.”
Opera Diva and Artist connect in the moment, to reach mutual orgasm and collapse, in a puddle of human liquids.
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Scene 8
Artist Contemplates Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Death Too
Television shouts news about local state of high alert and emergency declared by Florida Governor following Orlando Terrorist attack at Pulse Nightclub and warning of former inmates impersonating law enforcement officers in the viewing area as Swat team, with guns drawn shout at Artist cowering on bedroom floor beside bed. āOpen the door, now! We want to talk to you!ā
āWe are talking! What do you want?ā The Artist asks while crawling away from Swat covered windows in the bedroom to Swat covered windows in the living room.
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Scene 9
Red Head Aging Universe
āThanks for a lovely evening. Perhaps our paths will cross again in a few months, when I return from touring Asia and Australia with the Metropolitan Opera.ā The Opera Diva says before bending over to kiss the Artist goodbye, walking out the door in high heels and a sparkling, wrinkled, evening gown to her car at midday.
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Scene 10
Romeo The Bomb Sniffing Dog
Swat team with bomb sniffing dogs surround artistās house as he crawls around in a panic trying to get out of the line of fire inside his home.
āOpen the door right now! We need to talk to you!ā Police shout.
āDo you have a warrant?ā The Artist asks.
āIf you donāt cooperate, we will get one!ā Cops shout.
āFor what? I havenāt done anything.ā The Artist replies.
āAssault and battery. Your wife says you beat her up. Open the door, now!ā Cops shout while banging on the door.
āIām not married! You have the wrong guy!ā The Artist shouts to armed officers of the law staring back at him through open windows with guns drawn.
The Countess calls the Artist and asks, āWould you like to attend a seminar on the dark side of reincarnation, with me, this evening, at the Kabbalah Center, where Madonna goes?ā
āIād love to but my car is in the shop for repairs.ā The Artist says.
āNo worries. Give me your address. Iāll pick you up at three.ā The Countess replies.
āIām reaching for my cell phone to call 911. Please donāt shoot me!ā The Artist says as he rises from the ground cautiously with arms up, before pointing to his right pocket in front of nervous police officers watching his every move from outside his house, through clear windows, with guns pointed at his chest.
āWe are 911!ā Cops shout.
āI donāt know that! Iām calling 911, please donāt shoot!ā The Artist says as he slowly reaches inside his pocket to grab his cell phone thinking, this may be the last moment of his life.
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Scene 13
Crackheadjesus Attacked Me With A Steaknife
āSo, you were attacked, in your home, by an actor, with a steak-knife, after filming Crackhead Jesus: The Movie?ā The Countess asks the Artist, as she drives to the Kabbalah Center.
āTruth is stranger than fiction.ā The Artist says.
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Scene 14
Ā Ā The Fourth Amendment
āOpen the door! We just want to make sure you are okay!ā Cops shout at frightened Artist as he speaks nervously to 911 operator on his cell phone in his living room.
āPeople claiming to be police are at my door demanding entry into my house without a warrant!ā
āCalm down, Sir.ā The 911 Operator says.
āCalm down? They have guns pointed at me.ā The Artist replies, shaking with fear.
āSir, were you involved in domestic abuse assault and battery with your wife this morning?ā The 911 Operator asks.
āNo! Iām not married!ā Artist says while cops shout, āWeāll come back with a warrant if we have to, open the door!ā
āDo that, because Iām not letting you in!ā The Artist shouts.
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Scene 15
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā How Dare You
Giant, overweight, Actor, with crazy-eyes, bursts through Artistās bedroom door, wielding a steak-knife and shouting, āHow dare you try to come between me and my wife!ā
āPut the knife down!ā The Artist says with authority.
āYouāre trying to break us up!ā
āNo!ā
āThen why would you tell her I raped an actress on set?ā
āThatās not what I said! Put the knife down!ā The Artist says as the angry actor swings a steak-knife while Artist retreats backwards towards master-bathroom.
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Scene 16
See Something Say Something
Swat team surrounds house and bangs on front door of Artistās home, as he speaks to 911 Operator who asks, āSo, you witnessed child abuse and incest in your home, have you reported what you told me to Child Protective Services?ā
āNo.ā The intimidated Artist says, staring back at scowl faced, armed officers gazing through his windows.
āWhy not?ā Asks the 911 Operator.
āI thought my girlfriend would take care of it, itās her grandchildren.ā The Artist answers without hesitation.
āWell, Iām duty-bound to report what you just told me, if you donāt.ā The 911 Operator says.
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āIām going to kill you, you son of a bitch!ā The Actor says as he lunges towards Artist brandishing a steak knife.
āCalm down! Itās not what you think!ā The Artist shouts as he side steps the Actorās attack.
Frustrated, the Actor punches hole in wall causing his hand to bleed onto steak knife.
āYou are a dead man!ā The furious Actor shouts at retreating Artist.
āNo!ā The Actorās Wife shouts. āPlease stop!ā
With nowhere to run or hide, the Artist stands his ground against the mad Actor.
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Scene 18
Romeo The Bomb Sniffing Dog Too
Swat team surrounding house bangs on door shouting, āWeāll be back with a warrant for your arrest.ā
āTheyāre leaving.ā The 911 Operator says to petrified Artist as Swat team exits with bomb sniffing dogs. āBut I suggest you call Child Protective Services, first thing in the morning, to file a report, so they can investigate your allegations of child abuse; otherwise, I have to report you as a co-conspirator. I also suggest you go the police station, ASAP, to give your side of the story, because your domestic partner has made some serious allegations against you.ā
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Scene 19
Ā Ā Ā Get Out Of My House
āGet out of my house!ā The Artist says, as he walks confidently past enraged Actor waving steak-knife at him as Actor’sĀ Wife yells, āNo!ā.
The Actor punches another hole in wall, with his bloody fist, leaving red stains, splattered on white wall, as Artist makes his way into living room past hallway.
āI invite you to stay, with your cat, as guests in my home, and you threaten to kill me!ā The Artist shouts at the Actor and his Wife, as she takes the knife from her Husbands bloody hand while eating a sausage. āGet out!ā
āFuck you!ā The Actor and his Wife shout back at the Artist in stereo.
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Scene 20
Ā The Long Arm Of The Law
Artist walks into police station and approaches Front Desk Officer, sitting behind bullet proof glass.
āIād like to file a police report.ā
āAbout what?ā The cranky Front Desk Officer asks.
āI was just swatted by my girlfriend. She filed a false police report.ā
āExcuse me, Sir, I heard about that incident and I can assure you, the Police were there to protect you.ā The Front Desk Officer says.
āProtect me? With guns drawn? Is that how cops protect citizens?ā
āYour wife made some serious allegations.ā
āSheās not my wife, I told you, sheās my girlfriend.ā
āWhatever, your girlfriend said you have bombs and an arsenal of weapons. She also said you killed both of her dogs and tried to stab her in her sleep.ā The Front Desk Officer, with a raised eyebrow and accusing look, says to the dumbfounded Artist, under camera surveillance.
āWell, she lied.ā
āYouāll have to come back Monday after 3PM. The officers who took the original report are off for the next three days.ā
āBut Iām the victim, Iād like to file my own report.ā
āYouāre a piece of shit!ā The Actor says to Artist as his Wife loads caged cat into overstuffed SUV in front of Artistās home at twilight.
āYeah. Youāre a real piece of shit.ā The Actorās Wife says to Artist, as she struggles into passenger seat, while lowering the vehicle suspension, with her obesity.
The Actor and his Wife stick their middle fingers out the window, as tires tear up lawn, screeching burnt rubber onto road as car drives off in a cloud of smoke.
āSo, tell me what you witnessed?ā The CPS officer asks the Artist who recalls events in flashbacks.
āIt was our sixth-year anniversary. My girlfriendās daughter had just divorced a pedophile that she had procreated two kids with, when she met a stranger on line that she wanted to have sex with.ā
āYour girlfriendās daughter had children with a pedophile?ā
āMy girlfriend claims her son-in law is a convicted sex offender pedophile and former gang member who is now a born again Christian.ā
āOf course and his ex-wife wanted to have sex with a stranger she met on the internet?ā
āThe Granddaughter claims her father and grandfather are upset because the ink was not even dry on the final divorce papers before her mother started sleeping around.ā
āYour girlfriendās Granddaughter told you this?ā
āMy girlfriend’s Granddaughter told me a lot of things.ā
Film crew sets up lighting and soundcheck for scene in fancy mirrored public Ladies restroom.
āOkay, so this is the rape scene. Letās tone it down from the original script and do it like we did at rehearsal.ā The Artist confidently commands cast and crew.
āQuite on the set! Crackhead Jesus: The Movie, rape scene, take one.ā The Directorās Assistant says while snapping film slate.
āAction!ā The Artist shouts.
Actors commence tense scene surrounded by film crew on closed set.
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Scene 24
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā GrandMa’s Stool
Inside Police Station Child Protective Services Division Artist recalls incident in voice over flashback.
āI was in the kitchen making breakfast when I noticed my Girlfriendās five-year old Grandson defecating in front of me.ā
āAre you shitting yourself?ā Artist asks fully clothed Boy whose eyes are watery and face is red from straining to pass bowel movement while standing upright.
Diarrhea runs down the boys shorts, covering his legs and socks in feces, as bacon sizzles on stovetop.
āGrandma, heās pooping himself again!ā TheĀ Boyās nine-year old Sister shouts while pointing a finger at her Brother and laughing.
āHe said shitting.ā The Girl says, pointing to Artist as her Grandmother enters room in panic.
āIs this what you want, Bitch?ā Actor growls as he manhandles Actress on camera, before she slaps his face, as scripted, during intense rape scene.
āI thought you loved me! You used me! Asshole!ā Actress storms out of frame with tears in her eyes, running mascara and tattered clothing.
āCut!ā The Artist shouts. āExcellent!ā
āCan we do that one more time?ā The Actress asks while Makeup-Artist cleans her face. āI think I can do better.ā
āIs that okay with you?ā Artist asks Actor.
āSure.ā Actor replies, with a big grin on his lipstick-smeared face.
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Scene 26
Ā Ā Ā Living A Mythological Life
Artistsās kitchen filled with smoke and the smell of bacon, eggs and feces causes fire alarm to scream over Granddaughters shouts of, āGrandma, he shit himself again!ā
āDonāt say shit!ā The Countess scolds her Granddaughter with an evil eye and a scowling look.
āBut Grandpa said it first!ā The Granddaughter says with big innocent eyes while pointing at Artist.
āIām not your Grandfather.ā The Artist says while removing burnt bacon from frying pan.
āHow dare you curse in front of the children!ā The Countess howls.
āBut, he shit himself while I was making bacon.ā
āYou burned the bacon! Ha! Ha!ā The Granddaughter laughs at confused Artist.
āYouāre an asshole!ā The Countess says to Artist while grabbing Grandson covered in feces and taking him to bathroom leaving behind a trail of dark, green, diarrhea on plush white carpet.
Inside smoke filled kitchen, Countess returns from bathroom to ask Artist, āWhereās his clothes?ā
āYouāre asking me?ā
āHe has no clothes.ā
āWhat do you mean he has no clothes?ā
Grandson runs around house naked yelling, āPenis! Penis! Penis!ā
āHis overnight bag is full of toys; no clean clothes!ā The Countess shouts as her Granddaughter screams, āItās Naked Man!ā
āYour daughter didnāt pack a change of clothes for your Grandson?ā The Artist asks as the bare-assed-Boy somersaults and runs around the house proclaiming, āNaked Man! Naked Man! Naked Man!ā
The Countess and Artist arrive at Kabbalah Center for seminar on the dark side of reincarnation.
āSo you told the Actorās Wife he raped his Costar?ā The Countess asks the Artist.
āNot exactly.ā The Artist recalls in flashbacks.
Inside Artistās house, the Actorās grossly obese wife shoves a hot dog in her mouth while talking to Artist in kitchen. āLet me take care of you. You must be so stressed out. Let me give you an orgasm.ā
Artist backs away from Actorās Wife, as she slides her tongue from cheek to cheek, wiping away mayonnaise and mustard from the sides of her mouth.
Inside living room of Artistās house, Naked Man reigns supreme as Artist plays the piano. Countess, Artist and Granddaughter watch in horror as Grandson grabs long wooden flute and proceeds to masturbate with instrument as his Sister screams and Grandmother gasps.
āUh, is anyone going to stop this kid from masturbating in front of us?ā The Artist says while playing piano.
āDonāt say that in front of the Kids!ā The Countess shouts at Artist.
āSo let me get this straight.ā The Artist sings while playing piano. āHe can masturbate in front of us but I canāt say the word to describe what he is doing.ā
āWhatās masturbate, Grandma?ā The nine-year old girl asks Countess as her nude five-year old brother runs to the piano and starts slapping his penis on piano keys, shouting, āNaked Man! Naked Man!ā, while Artist tickles ebony and ivory without skipping a beat.
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Scene 31
Let Me Ease Your Stress
Inside Artistās house, dining room, Artist tells Actorās Wife, āYour Husbandās co-star is accusing him of rape.ā
āWhat?ā
āI know, I tried explaining to her that it was a rape scene but she insisted I talk to you and your husband before tonights award ceremony because you are producers on this project and well, honestly, I donāt know what she wants.ā
āThat bitch is crazy!ā
āI figured we could discuss this with your husband over dinner, so we donāt cause a scene at the awards ceremony.ā The Artist says to Actorās Wife as she stares out window to see her husband flipping steaks on barbecue grill in backyard.
Inside living room of Artistās house, Countess and her Granddaughter watch as Grandson rubs his penis on Artistās arm as he plays piano.
āOkay, this really has got to stop! Now heās rubbing his dick on me!ā The Artist says to Countess while her Grandson sings, āNaked Man! Iām Naked Man!ā and Granddaughter looks on in shock.
āDonāt say dick!ā The Countess screams at Artist, doing nothing to stop her Grandsonās perverse behavior.
āHe said dick!ā The Granddaughter says in amazement as her naked brother shouts, āDick! Dick! Dick!ā while slamming his penis all over the piano keys.
Inside Kabbalah Center auditorium, the Countess and Artist meet Philip Berg an American Rabbi and dean of the worldwide Kabbalah Center. The Countess is starstruck in the presence of this Holy Man.
āThis man is your Soulmate.ā Berg says to Countess as he stares into Artists eyes while shaking his hand firmly for a length of time. āHis love for you is eternal. He is sent to challenge, awaken and stir different parts of you in order for your soul to transcend to a higher level of consciousness and awareness.ā
āItās an honor to meet you, Sir.ā The Artist says as both men loosen their grip on each other.
āThe honor is mine. You are a visionary. Your work is prophetic with divine inspiration. Keep Shining, Brother. Flow.ā Berg says to the Artist, before walking onstage in front of a packed auditorium to begin his lecture on the dark side of reincarnation.
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Scene 34
Fruit Doesn’t Fall Far From Tree
āCan you watch the kids while I go buy Naked Man some clothes?ā The Countess asks the Artist as he cleans up the kitchen and her Grandson streaks across the house chasing his sister shouting, āIām Naked Man!ā
āNo. Your daughterās kids are out of control.ā
āPlease, I canāt take him to the store naked.ā
āYour daughterās more concerned about getting laid than taking proper care of her children. What kind of mother sends her maladjusted kids on an overnight, without clothes?ā
āAsshole! Donāt say, laid, in front of the children!ā Countess screams as her Grandson fondles his Sister in front of her and the Artist.
āOur totality must include a dark side if we are to be whole.ā Says American Rabbi Philip Berg at the conclusion of his dissertation on spiritual afterlife at the Kabbalah Center before exiting the stage to a standing ovation.
āThat was fantastic.ā The Countess says to Artist who replies, āInteresting.ā, as they both applaud and make their way out of the packed auditorium to the parking lot.
āWould you like to come back to my place for a drink?ā The Countess asks the Artist, who answers, āSure.ā,Ā with a smile as he opens the drivers-side car door for the Countess before walking around her clean, red Volvo, to sit in the passengers seat.
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Scene36
What, Me Worry?
āSweetheart, are you done in the shower, we have to go get your Brother some clothes at the store.ā The Countess hollered to her Granddaughter as her Grandson in a long, white, t-shirt bursts through the closed bathroom door, revealing his Sister standing naked and exposed in front of the Artist and her Grandmother.
āBoobies!ā The Brother shouts at his Sister, while pointing at her bare chest, as she screams in vulnerable embarrassment, while staring, naked, into the Artistās shocked, wide-open, eyes, in front of her Grandmother, the Countess.
The Artist and Countess reach orgasm together before resting side-by-side in her King-Size bed.
āThat was incredible. Thanks.ā The Artist says as the Countess rises from bed naked and walks towards closet.
āI want to show you something.ā The Countess says, as she stands naked on her toes to retrieve a large box from the top shelf in her closet. The Artist notices and reacts physically to her erect nipples and hairy bush as she brings the box to bed with her, noticing his bulge rising from underneath her silk sheets he inquires, āAre we about to get, really kinky, now?ā
āI thought we already did.ā The Countess says, laying the box gently beside his excitement, before opening it.
āWeāre back!ā The Grandson shouts, as he bursts through the front door sporting new clothes. āLook what Grandma got me.ā
āThatās just great.ā The Artist says, feigning interest before boy punches him in the groin, manifesting pain and shock that causes Artist to shout, āWhat the fuck?ā, while recoiling.
āStop cursing in front of the children!ā The Countess shouts.
āBut he punched me in the nuts!ā
āHe said nuts, Grandma. Is that the same as balls?ā The Granddaughter asks her Grandmother while pointing at the Artist, as her little Brother guffaws, before punching the Artistās testicles again.
āWhat? I canāt say nuts either?ā The Artist asks Countess with watery eyes before falling to the floor. āWhat the fuck?ā
The Countess goes through her last pile of photoās with the weary Artist, revealing her rich, celebrated history and international circle of influence including celebrities and world leaders.
āSo, youāre telling me you created American Idol and The Bachelor?ā The Artist asks while nibbling on the Countessā perky nipples.
āYes, but I never got credit or any money for it, because Hollywood assholes and their lawyers stole my ideas at a pitch meeting with network executives.ā
āWhy didnāt you sue?ā
āI tried but I didnāt stand a chance against corporate lawyers on payroll; Iām just a poor little rich girl.ā The Countess said, before grabbing the Artistās stiff manhood, while kissing his lips.
Granddaughter approaches Artist in his office as he works on his computer. āCan I talk to you about something private?ā She asks.
āSure.ā
āMy Dad and Grandfather are very upset with my Mom because sheās been spending so much time on the computer meeting strange men and sleeping with them instead of taking care of my Brother and I.ā
āReally?ā
āGrandpa says my mom is a whore. Whatās a whore?ā
āSo you are an actor, producer and an award-winning film director.ā The Countess asks Artist while they lie naked in bed together in her beachfront mansion.
āAnd an award-winning artist.ā
āAnd a politician as well?ā
āI used to be, not anymore.ā
āAnd a businessman?ā
āTrue.ā
āSo, youāre a jack of all trades and master of none?ā
āI wouldnāt say that.ā
āSo, what else are you good at?ā
āWell, here, let me show you.ā The Artist says before crawling under silk sheets to perform cunnilingus on the Countess.
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Scene 42
Modern Man Modern Woman
āA girl in my class says men can get pregnant and have babies, is that true?ā
āSounds like your friend knows a thing or two about being transgender.ā
āWhatās transgender?ā
āWhat are you teaching my Granddaughter?ā The Countess asks Artist as she enters the room.
āShe asked me a question.ā The Artist answers.
āYouāre not the one to be teaching her about sex.ā
āIām not. Obviously, your Daughterās not either. Sheās too busy having sex with strangers online to teach her children about nature.ā
āSex! Sex! Sex!ā The Grandson shouts, as he runs into the room and slaps his Sisterās ass.
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Scene 43
I Bet On America
āThat was lovely, thank you. I see you are talented with your tongue as well, young man.ā
āGlad I could be of service to you.ā The Artist says after wiping his mouth on her sheets.
āSo, what made you become a politician?ā
āI was young, dumb and idealistic. I thought I could make a difference.ā
āYou sound jaded. What happened?ā
āI was offered a bribe by an alleged serial-killer-spinal-surgeon.ā
āAre you serious?ā
āYes.ā
āOkay, Mister, now Iām curious; Explain.ā The Countess demands as she snuggles comfortably into the Artistās bare chest.
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Scene 44
Reputation Is Wealth
āMy Daughter will be here any minute to pick up her kids, can you watch them while I take a shower?ā
āIād rather not.ā The Artist tells Countess as he watches children play in yard from his office window.
āDonāt be a dick. Just do it.ā The Countess says as she disrobes into shower.
āWhereās their deadbeat dad?ā The Artist shouts loud enough for Countess to hear him in the shower.
āThe kids mother and father are having sex with strangers, while we babysit their children on our six year anniversary; am I the only one who sees something wrong with that?ā Artist says as he watches Brother hurl rocks and sticks at his tormented Sister in the yard.
*************************************************************************
Scene 45
Ā Woman 2 Infinity
Voice over flashback as the Artist recalls history for the Countess.
āI was a millionaire businessman in my late twenties, when I fell in love with a woman I met at an open house for real estate investors in a high-rise luxury building.ā
Buxom blonde wearing a label reading, āHello My Name Is Godessā, on her heaving breast, grabs Artist by the hand and leads him to her Girlfriend, sitting alone at bar beside neon lit infinity pool at night.
āLet me introduce you to my friend. Sheās not a real estate agent but she needs to get laid, itās been a while.ā Goddess says before introducing the Artist to her beautiful friend.
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Scene 46
Seven Deadly Sins
Brother chases Sister into house and assaults her in front of the Artist. Sister is hit so hard by Brother that she doubles over in pain onto couch and bites the pillow to muffle her screams of pain.
Brother looks at Artist with innocent eyes and says, āPlease donāt tell.ā.
Sister wipes tears from her eyes and says the same to Artist as Countess walks into the room with towel on her head asking, āWhatās going on out here?ā
āYou know, I donāt normally do this?ā Muse says to Artist, as he opens passenger side door of his Lexus convertible, a DVD case titled, āAnal Intruders #57ā, falls out of car onto pavement.
Embarrassed, the Artist replies, āYou know, thatās not mine?ā
āI guess weāre even then.ā The Muse says, as she picks up the DVD and inspects packaging.
āIāll tell you the story on the way to your place.ā Artist says, as he closes car door, after Muse settles into seat.
āThe story of Anal Intruders 57; I canāt wait.ā The Muse says slyly as Artist starts the engine.
*************************************************************************
Scene 48
Ā The Dead Cock
āMomās home!ā Grandson shouts as his mother pulls into driveway with Internet Lover.
Artist goes to open door and sees Internet Lover slap kids mother on ass while saying, āI canāt wait to tap that sweet ass again, Mama!ā
āAnd eat my pussy; I love the way you eat my ā¦ā The kids Mother stops when she realizes Artist is standing at entryway watching.
āOh! Hello.ā She says to Artist. āWe brought you some soda pop.ā
*************************************************************************
Scene 49
Full Moon Beach
āSo you evicted a seventy year old woman with an extensive porn collection?ā
āI had to, she wanted to pay rent in blow jobs.ā The Artist tells Muse as he navigates Ocean Drive with the top down under full moon light. āBank of America doesnāt take that sort of payment on mortgages.ā
āSo how many properties do you own?ā
āTwelve. Itās a pain the ass, though, no pun intended.ā Artist says to Muse holding Anal Intruders #57 in her lap as they both laugh.
āTell me about it.ā The Muse says.
āWell, one tenant told me she couldnāt pay rent, because her son had been decapitated and needed the money for his funeral. I mean, what am I supposed to say to that?ā Artist asks as he pulls up to Museās apartment building on the beach.
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Scene 50
The Sex Offender
āSo, how was your 5k run for charity?ā Artist asks kids Mother as she washes vegetables at kitchen sink for salad and Countess slaves over burners on stove while Granddaughter twerks in front of Internet Lover and her Brother in living room.
āWhat?ā The kids Mother says, taken aback by the question. āOh, we only ran 1k.ā
āReally, what did you do the rest of the time?ā Artist inquires while watching Internet Lover enjoying the nine-year olds provocative dance in front of him.
āWe found stuff to do. Want to hear a joke?ā The kids Mother asks in a quick change of subject. Without waiting for an answer, she barrels into her comedy routine. āThis guy and his girlfriend are fighting, she says, āIām breaking up with you.ā āWhy?ā He asks. She says, āBecause you are a pedophile.ā He says, āPedophile? Hmmm, thatās an awfully big word for a ten year old.ā
The Artist looks at her stunned, without laughing.
āI told that to my employees at T-Mobile. They loved it. Okay, hereās another one: What type of shoes do pedophiles wear?ā The kids Mother asks the speechless Artist before answering, āWhite Vans. Get it? Pedophiles drive around in white vans.ā
āYouāre a manager at T-mobile and you tell your workers pedophile jokes?ā Artist asks kids Mother as Granddaughter approaches him dancing seductively.
āWhatās a pedophile?ā Granddaughter asks Artist, who pauses before answering to take in his surroundings and situation.
āYour Father.ā The Artist replies.
āHow dare you!ā The Countess shouts from kitchen immediately.
āI mean, ask your Father.ā Artist corrects himself to no avail.
āThatās not what you meant!ā The Countess scolds Artist.
āWait a minute. Let me get this straight. Your daughter marries a convicted sex-offender pedophile, has two children with him, divorces him, starts whoring around with strangers on the internet using charity as an excuse to do so and tells pedophile jokes at work to her employees and in my home, in front of her mother and children, but Iām the bad guy?ā
*************************************************************************
Scene 51
Money Backed By Faith In Federal Reserve
Artist arrives at fourplex in Lexus convertible to collect rent from his tenants. He knocks on first door and sees disheveled tenant making his way out back window of apartment. Artist catches up with him before both feet hit the ground.
āWhat the hell are you doing?ā
āI heard you knocking at the door.ā
āSo you climbed out the window?ā
āThe front door is locked.ā
āSo why didnāt you open it?ā
āThe window is jammed.ā
āYou just climbed out of it.ā
āI know but the door is locked.ā
āListen, Iām just here to collect the rent.ā
āI donāt have it.ā
āWhat do you mean you donāt have it? You are two months late now.ā
āCan I pay you in weed?ā
āNo! You canāt pay me in weed! The mortgage company doesnāt accept weed as a payment.ā
āHow about crack?ā
āAre you fucking kidding me?ā
āI have cocaine if you want.ā
āI donāt want drugs. I want you to get the fuck out of here.ā
āYou canāt evict me. I know my rights. I have ninety days.ā
āIām calling the cops.ā
āThey canāt do shit without a warrant. Besides, Iāll tell them itās yours and theyāll confiscate your place as a drug house.ā Tenant pulls three crumpled, one-hundred dollar bills, from his pocket and tosses them at Artist. āHere, Iāll pay you the rest later. Go fuck yourself!ā
Artist picks money up from floor as he watches his tenant run away out the back fence door.
āWhy canāt you be more of a man, like him?ā Granddaughter asks Artist while sitting on her Motherās Internet Loverās lap.
The Artist pauses to look at Internet Lover smiling while young girl sits on his lap in front of him as Countess and her Daughter set table and prepare meal for serving.
āYou mean why donāt I father illegitimate children with different women out of wedlock? Why am I not a deadbeat dad? Or, why am I not screwing your mother?ā The Artist says as the Countess announces, ā Okay, everyone, dinner is served. Letās go, everyone to the dinner table, including you, young man.ā She says to her Grandson as he humps her leg.
āWhoās going to say Grace?ā The born-again Christian Daughter asks as she plays footsy with her Internet Lover under the table and her son picks his nose while his sister winks at the Artist.
āWhy donāt you say a prayer for us?ā The Countess asks the Artist.
āDear God, help us all.ā The Artist prays.
āThatās it?ā The Countess says.
āWhat more do you want?ā The Artist replies as the Grandson wipes his finger on the tablecloth.
*************************************************************************
Scene 53
Working Women
Artist knocks on second door of fourplex.
Two young, scantily clad Russian girls open door and proceed to seduce the Artist.
āIām here to collect the rent.ā
āThreesome?ā The petite Girl says in a thick Russian accent as her Roommate rubs the Artistsās crotch over his dress pants.
āIād love to but Bank Of America doesnāt accept sexual favors on mortgage payments.ā
āNo money. Love.ā The Roomate says as she unzips his pants in an accent so thick he can barely understand what she is saying. āWe give you good love.ā
āIām sure of that.ā The Artist says, zipping his pants up while pushing the girls off him.
āYou gay? Sissy-boy?ā The petite Russian says mockingly.
āIām not gay, Iām your landlord and Iām here to collect rent not screw around.ā
The Roomate walks over to a coffee can in the kitchen and takes out some cash which she hands to the Artist saying, āRest later or blowjobs now?ā
The Artist takes money and looks into camera with raised eyebrow, breaking the wall between artist and audience, as both girls drop to their knees in front of him.
*************************************************************************
Scene 54
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The 3 Muses 2016
āMommy, Daddy says you are Mama number two and my step-brothers mother is Mama number one. I thought you said she was Mama number two.ā Granddaughter says to her Mother at dinner table surrounded by Brother, Grandmother, Artist and Internet Lover.
āShe is sweetheart, Iāll always be Mama number one.ā
āThen why does Daddy call you Baby Mama number two.ā
āBecause your fatherās an asshole. Eat your salad.ā
āYou know, that is confusing. All these Baby Mamaās and Baby Daddyās, itās hard to make sense of it all and Iām an adult.ā The Artist says after sipping water from glass.
āWhy donāt you mind your own business?ā The Countessā Daughter snaps while slamming her fork on table, making the silverware rattle.
āActually, your Mother and I are planning to start a family of our own.ā The Artist says proudly, raising a glass of Champagne to toast his heartfelt announcement.
āStop saying that, the kids may start believing you!ā The Countessā Daughter barks.
āActually, a seventy year old woman, in India, just gave birth, following two years of IVF treatment, at a fertility clinic and Iām no where near seventy.ā The Countess says as she clinks her champagne glass with Artistās before taking a sip.
āMom, youāre sixty-five.ā The Daughter reminds her Mother.
āSo?ā The Countess replies.
āSo stop telling the kids you guys are going to have a baby, I donāt want them believing that.ā
After a short, awkward pause in the dinner conversation, where everyone looks at the Artist with contempt, he breaks the silence by looking at the Countessā Daughter and says, āYou ought to explain Transgender to your daughter, she asked me if men can get pregnant.ā
āI donāt want you talking to my children about Transgenders, those freaks are disgusting.ā
āDisgusting? Thatās funny coming from you.ā The Artist responds to irate Daughter of Countess.
āThatās it. Weāre out of here. Come on kids, letās go. Iām sorry, Mom. I donāt know what you see in this monster. Heās rude, disgusting, vulgar and offensive.ā The Daughter says as she rises from the table in a fit of rage.
āLook in the mirror, the same words can be used to describe you and your life.ā The Artist responds.
āHow dare you say that to my daughter?ā The Countess shouts. āThatās it! Weāre done! Weāre over! Youāre out of here! I want you out of my house before the end of the month!ā
āWait!ā The Artist says, standing up. āBefore you go, letās all toast to our sixth year anniversary. Happy anniversary, Babe.ā The Artist says turning to the Countess.Ā āItās been real.ā The Artist says, as he raises his glass to an exasperated room full of houseguests, clamoring to exit, before he takes a swig of champagne and gets hit in the testicles by the Grandson, forcing him to spit out champagne all over the Countess and her Daughter.
***************************************************************************************
Scene 55
Baker Act
Artist knocks on third door of fourplex. Old man stinking of alcohol through pores and breath opens door to hand artist check.
āThank you.ā The Artist says before noticing the date on check. āWait a minute, this check is for next month, I need this monthās rent.ā
āI thought I paid this month already.ā
āNo and you were late on last months rent, so you have to add the late fee.ā The Artist says taking a step back to avoid the repulsive smell emanating from the lanky senior citizen.
āI paid last month.ā The drunkard says before breaking into a coughing fit that projects spittle onto the Artists suit and tie.
āYes but you were late.ā The Artist says while wiping spit off his tie with handkerchief from his pocket.
āIām not late. Iām paying you a month in advance you greedy bastard!ā The old man shouts in a drunken rage that cause him to stumble back into his apartment.
āThis check is dated a month in advance. I canāt cash this.ā
āThatās not my problem.ā The old man says before passing out on his couch, snoring and dribbling out of the side of his wide open mouth.
***************************************************************************************
Scene 56
Passion Muse
As Daughter drives off with kids and Internet Lover, peeling out of the driveway, the Countess returns and yells at the Artist, āHow dare you embarrass me in front of my family.ā
āMe? Iām the embarrassing one? Thatās rich.ā The Artist laughs.
āYes, you. My daughter says she never wants to see you again and will not let me see my Grandchildren until you are out of my life, so youāve got to go. Now!ā The Countess screams hysterically.
āAre you serious? The pedophile lover finds me offensive?ā The Artist says while dodging a plastic cup full of water hurled at him by the furious Countess as she hollers, āGet out! Get out! Get out!ā
The Countess curls fingers into fists and pounds Artist in chest with both clenched hands pushing him backwards. The Artist grabs her arm instinctively to stop his descent and tears her shirt as they both fall to the floor, dangerously close to sharp edge of living room furniture. He holds the Countess in a tight embrace as she struggles to break free from his stronghold. She crumbles into tears and curses him as he attempts to contain her anger within his hug.
āItās okay. Iām sorry. Itās okay. Weāll get through this, I promise.ā The Artist says before kissing the Countess on her forehead as she sobs uncontrollably in his arms.
***************************************************************************************
Scene 57
Crackhead Jesus Is Coming
Artist drives up to beachfront property, steps out of his Lexus convertible, makes his way to front door and rings bell.
āThank God you are here!ā Says behemoth woman who opens door with curlers in her hair. āMy husband got high on crack, went to work, got on his desk and told everyone at his office that he is the New Messiah and they are all his disciples.ā
āWhat?ā The Artist asks in disbelief.
āMy husband thinks heās Jesus fucking Christ!ā
āYouāre kidding?ā
āI wish! The stupid motherfucker got fired today! He spent all our money on drugs and gambling, so now we canāt pay the rent.ā The jumbo sized wife sobs as her husband approaches from behind in a white robe and sandals saying, āWelcome my Son.ā, to the startled Artist.
***************************************************************************************
Scene 58
Evolution Of Man & Woman
Artist in bed with Countess leans over to kiss her goodnight but she recoils and turns away from him.
āHow long are you going to keep ignoring me? Itās been three weeks since your daughter ruined our anniversary.ā The Artist asks and receives a silent response from the Countess. āI didnāt think you could hold a grudge for that long.ā
The Artist shuts off light. A loud fart breaks the silence. The Countess turns on light leaps out of bedĀ and storms out of the room.
āI guess a blow job is out of the question.ā The Artist says as she exits.
āJesus donāt pay rent.ā Crackheadjesus says to the Artist, while lounging in Speedo, on a float, shaped like a slice of pepperoni pizza, in pool.
āListen Mister, unless I get footage of you walking across this pool, Bank of America isnāt going to believe Iām renting to the New Messiah.ā The Artist says.
āFuck Bank Of America! Those crooks fleeced everyone with the bailout!ā
āThat may be so but I still need to collect your rent.ā
āI told you, Jesus donāt pay rent!ā
āI donāt have time for this nonsense. If you donāt pay rent, Iāll have to hire an attorney to evict you.ā
āBankers and lawyers all have a special place in hell and so will you if you donāt stop fucking with me.ā Crackheadjesus said to the Artist while making the sign of the cross with his middle finger as the Artist walks past his gigantic sobbing wife saying, āYour husband needs an intervention.ā, before walking out the door.
āGood morning, My Love.ā The Artist says sincerely to grumpy, disheveled, Countess as she makes her way into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee in the morning.
āMy daughter and I voted you off the board of directors. You are no longer part of our company.ā
āYou canāt do that.ā
āWe just did.ā
āI never got notice, besides you and your daughter voted me off on what grounds?ā
āOn the grounds that youāre an asshole.ā
āThat may be so, but I remind you, this asshole, made us all a lot of money; a third of which Iām entitled to, as one third owner of the company.ā
āWeāll see about that.ā
āWell, good luck lying to the IRS. Iām sure theyāll be just as curious as I am to know what happened to my money if you two decide to steal and hide it.ā
***************************************************************************************
Scene 61
The Backpacker
Artist plays chess with white haired Doctor in penthouse apartment overlooking Ocean.
āDoc, Iāve got this tenant who thinks heās Jesus Christ and wonāt pay rent; got any suggestions?ā
āDo what I did when I had an obnoxious, deadbeat, crackhead tenant.ā The auspicious looking spinal surgeon says to Artist while moving his Knight to put Artistās Queen in check on the marble chess board. āAfter performing complex spine surgery, I washed up and left the hospital wearing a clean pair of surgical gloves.ā
The Doctor tells Artist story in flashback as Artist plots his next moves on chessboard.
No one notices Doctor as he walks to his Cadillac in the Emergency room parking lot and opens car door in fresh surgical gloves. āI own a couple of low income tenement buildings in Baltimore, Pennsylvania and New Jersey.ā The Doctor says in voiceover as he drives through Baltimore to a run down building in ghetto. āWhen my tenants get out of line, I kill them.ā
Doctor parks car in dark alley next to filthy dumpster and exits vehicle as rats scurry away under his feet. He calmly walks through back entrance into dimly lit hallway that leads to stairwell consumed with graffiti under flickering lights. His expensive shoes crush German roaches as he climbs up seven flights of stairs without breaking a sweat. He exits enclosed stairwell and makes his way to apartment 702 where he knocks on the door with authority.
Seconds pass before the Doctor sees an eyeball staring back at him through peephole and he hears multiple locks being undone before door opens to reveal a lanky drug addict who says, āListen, Iām sorry about the rent.ā
Doctor grabs crackhead by the throat and lifts him off the ground, walking him straight back towards open window at the other end of filthy apartment saying, āIām sure you are.ā, before pushing his tenant, with feet and arms flailing, out the window to his death. The Doctor looks out window to see his victim impaled on fire hydrant and smiles before calmly walking out of the apartment, locking the door behind him and making his way past elevator to stairwell, where he walks downstairs to his car and drives away as if nothing happened.
āYouāre kidding me, Doc.ā The Artist says while moving his pawn to protect his Queen from the Doctor. āYouāre suggesting I murder Crackheadjesus?ā
āIām not suggesting anything, Iām merely answering your question before putting you in checkmate.ā The Doctor says as he moves his Bishop between the Artistsās King and Queen on the chessboard.
āI want you out of here, now!ā The Countess shouts at Artist, as he follows her fluidly through house, with cellphone camera, video recording her every move and words.
āWhereād you get those bruises?ā The Artist asks Countess, from behind the camera, while filming black and blue areas all over her body, as she puts clothes away in closet.
āI got them at an amusement park.ā
āOh really, when did you go the amusement park? I donāt remember being at an amusement park.ā
āIt was the beach.ā
āReally? So how did you get that bruise?ā
āGet out of my face.ā
āBut, how did you get that bruise? Did I give you that bruise?ā
āI have pictures of the bruises youāve given me and they were much worse than that.ā
āSo then who gave you this bruise right here?ā The Artist asks, as Countess walks away from him, into living room area, as he follows her with camera recording.
āI was playing with the kids at the beach.ā
āWhich kids? The kids that are incestuous? The ones that have parents that actually lie and have us, on our anniversary, take care of her children, so that she can have sex, with a stranger?ā
āI forbid you to film me.ā The Countess shouts over the Artist as their words collide in an escalating argument that moves through the house with the artist saying, ā A stranger that your daughter brings into our house; a stranger that she met three months prior.ā
āI want you out of my home!ā
āEndangering the life of her children, by bringing a stranger into the house, so she can have sex.ā
āThis is my house.ā The Countess shouts looking into the camera saying, āThis man is not welcome in my home and I will call the police to have him evicted.ā
āI have to witness incest and assault.ā
āYou didnāt see incest!ā
āMaking me have to see child pornography.ā
āYou didnāt see assault!ā
āBecause the kids Baby Daddy and Baby Mama are irresponsible.ā
āYou didnāt see anything of the such. Youāre the person that was saying the words boobies and penis!ā
āI had to see a young girl naked, which offended me.ā
āExcuse me, you never saw a young girl naked!ā
āYeah, because the incestuous son of a pedophile, in front of the Countess, who did say nothing and actually turned the blame on the poor young girl, who ended up having to show her naked body to a stranger and now, your Daughter puts that same endangered young girl, in the hands of a stranger and you, as her Mother, condone it.ā
āYou are insane! You need to leave my home!ā The Countess says as she slams the Officer door behind her and locks the Artist out, leaving him filming a closed door, saying, āAnd this is now on the record.ā
Artist sheds his clothes and turns into bed alone before shutting off light to sleep at Midnight. He sees a bright light flashing into his bedroom and hears rustling outside his window. Frightened, Artist crawls out of bed, onto floor, while grabbing his cellphone off nightstand and heads into bathroom avoiding the bright spotlight. He dials 911. The moment Operator answers, two men burst through bathroom door with bright lights and guns pointed at him as he sits on the toilet shaking with fear.
ā911, is this an emergency?ā
āTwo men are in my house pointing guns at me!ā
āPolice! Put your hands up!ā Blinded by the light, Artist can only hear shouts in the surrounding darkness.
āThey are police, Sir. We got a report of burglars in your neighborhood.ā
āHow did they get into my house without a warrant?ā The Artist asks squinting at light beams.
āYour wife gave us the house keys and said there was a burglar in the house.ā Voice behind light says.
āIām not married.ā
āIām going to let you go now, Police will take care of things.ā 911 Operator says.
āCan I videotape them?ā
āThey have body cameras on, Sir. Just do what they tell you and everything will be alright.ā 911 Operator says before hanging up.
āDo you have I.D., Sir?ā One of the police officers says from behind the light.
āNot on me.ā The Artist replies. āIām sitting on the shitter. Please donāt shoot.ā
āTurn on the light, so we can shut our Mags off.ā
The Artist flicks bathroom light switch on, revealing two armed cops, with guns aimed at his chest, standing inches away from his naked, shaking body.
āDo you live here?ā Cop #1 says as both men shut off their lights and lower their weapons.
āYes. My wallet is on the night stand. Iāll show you my drivers license.ā
Police back away and allow naked Artist to get identification out of his wallet.
āYour wife thought there was a burglar in the house. She seemed pretty frightened.ā
āSheās been swatting me and cop shopping because I notified Child Protective Services of possible child abuse with her grandchildren. This is the second time in less than a week that Iāve almost gotten shot by police in my own home.ā
āWeāre sorry, Sir. Weāll go talk to her.ā
āThatās it? Can I file a complaint about her making false police reports? Isnāt it a misdemeanor or felony?ā
āWeāll talk to her, Sir. If she genuinely thought there was a burglar inside, we canāt do anything.ā
āHereās your license. Sorry for the misunderstanding. Goodnight.ā Cop #2 says before exiting home with Cop #1.
Inside Courtroom Artist sits beside his short, stumpy, Lawyer, as Judge looks down on him.
āYour Honor, my client is looking to evict this man and seeks financial retribution for damages done by tenant to his rental property.ā
āLet me ask you something.ā The Judge says to Artistās Lawyer. āHow many properties does your client own?ā
āTwelve, your Honor.ā
āAnd he canāt find it in his heart to house this man until he gets the help he needs to move on?ā
āYour Honor, with all due respect, my client is running a business, not a charity.ā
āThat may be so but do to the extenuating circumstances, Iām going to allow for the tenant to reside in the property for ninety days and award your client $3,000 in damages for what you were able to prove as negligence on the tenants part. Thatās my judgement. Get a copy of the ruling from the clerk on your way out of the courtroom.ā The Judge said before striking gavel on desk as Crackheadjesus and his wife grinned from ear to ear at Artist.
āYouāll never see a penny of it.ā Crackheadjesus says to Artist as they cross paths on way out of courtroom. ā And if you think your house is fucked now, wait till you see it in ninety days.ā
Artist watches news investigation of people shot and killed by police before shutting off television and going to bed, alone in his house. He is noticeably shellshocked. As Artist, naked, twists and turns restlessly in bed, he notices through window, a car parked at the end of street, with itās engine running and lights off. He crawls out of bed and puts robe on to investigate when suddenly bright lights fill his bedroom and he drops to the ground in terror as loud knocking fills the night time silence.
āPolice! Open the door!ā Artist sees cops and dogs surrounding his house in shadows. He walks to front door and looks through peep hole where he sees police in military gear standing outside his door.
āWhat do you want? I talked to the cops already.ā
āYou were arrested for battery the other day, weāre here to serve you.ā
āNo I wasnāt. Youāve got the wrong guy, I wasnāt arrested for anything the other day.ā
āYou donāt have a job. You are unemployed.ā
āThatās not true. What does that have to do with anything?ā
āOpen the door, Sir. Youāre just making it more difficult on yourself.ā Artist notices the police officer taking a defensive stance behind the closed door.
āIām calling 911. Please donāt shoot me. Iām not armed and you donāt have a warrant, so Iām not letting you in.ā The Artist shouts while backing away from door and dialing 911.
ā911, is this an emergency?ā
āIām being swatted. Iām being harassed by police because I reported my girlfriends Daughter to CPS.ā
āTheyāre just there to serve you with papers, Sir.ā
āFor what? I havenāt done anything.ā
āYou have an injunction, Sir.ā
āWhatās that?ā
āTheyāll explain it to you, Sir, just open the door.ā
āNo. Iām not opening the door. Those guys are intimidating and accusing me of having been arrested for battery, which obviously I didnāt since, Iām not in jail.ā
āIām on the phone with the officers on the scene, they will leave, if you promise to drop by the station tomorrow morning, to sign the injunction.ā
āIāll do that but the only thing Iām guilty of is doing the right thing. Since when did see something say something become a crime?ā
āTheyāre leaving, Sir. Make sure you drop by the station tomorrow morning, please.ā
Artist watches from window as Swat team leaves with bomb sniffing dogs in tow.
āI paid you to evict Crackheadjesus and now I have to house this guy for ninety days while he trashes my place!ā
āEviction is not as easy as you think. Thereās squatters rights.ā
āWhat about my rights.ā
āRule of Law and justice are two different things, neither of which is always fair.ā
āBut you make money regardless.ā
āItās called law practice. Clients pay us to practice law.ā
āIf a plumber, electrician or hairdresser donāt do their job right, they donāt get paid but if a lawyer fucks upā¦ā
āWe get paid. Thatās how it is. Speaking of which, heres your bill. We take cash or credit card.ā The Lawyer finishes Artist sentence while handing him invoice with a big grin and gold rings on his fingers.
Artist in underwear talks on phone with Sister, recounting his nightmare experience, when doorbell rings as sun comes up. Artist answers door to find two elderly, non-threatening, police officers standing outside holding papers.
āAre you, the Artist?ā Elderly Cop #1 asks Artist who has his Sister on phone as aural witness.
āYes.ā
āSign this please.ā
āWhat is it?ā
āItās an injunction. You have five minutes to vacate the premises.ā
āWhat?ā
āItās a temporary injunction for protection against domestic violence. Youāll have your day in court in a month. Until then, you are not allowed within 500 feet of this property or your wife.ā
āIām not married.ā
āYou have five minutes to grab whatever you can. Weāll be right here waiting for you to leave. If you donāt leave, we will arrest you.ā
The Artist hangs up with his sister and commences a high speed race through the house gathering whatever he can in five minutes and loading it all into the car before driving away under the watchful eye of authority.
Countess lies in bed with Artist, listening to his story while snuggled into his bare chest.
āI canāt believe the Judge let Crackheadjesus stay in your house for ninety days.ā
āThe worst part is, Hurricane Wilma left me homeless and destroyed my rental business. Of the twelve properties I owned, the only one that was unscathed was the one Crackheadjesus lived in and he destroyed that property when he left.ā
āWere you able to collect for damages?ā
āNo. The Court said they could not enforce the ruling, because they were not a collection agency and lawyers just wanted more money to collect on something that would leave me in the red, even if I won, so I just cut my losses and got out of the rental business.ā
āAnd you became an artist.ā
āNever been happier.ā
āKiss me.ā Countess says as she pulls the Artistās head to meet her lips in a warm embrace.
āIām fucking homeless! Again!ā The Artist says to his friend as he sits at a rest stop talking on his cell phone. āAnd she emptied out our business and personal bank accounts, so Iām fucking broke too!ā
āThatās fucked up. Do you have enough money to make it to my house?ā
āBarely.ā
āYou can crash on my couch, for a few days, if you want but I can only let you stay for a week because I have family coming over and well, you know, your situation is kind of a bummer and theyāll be on vacation.ā
āI get it, Man. Thanks for the offer. Iāll take you up on it until I figure out what to do. Iām still in shock over the whole thing.ā
Artist starts engine and drives onto highway towards friends house.
Artist and Countess sip fruit cocktails on beach in front their Mansion.
āI think we should start a family.ā The Countess says to Artist.
āDidnāt you go through menopause?ā Artist asks taken aback by the prospect.
āI can get IVF treatment.ā
āDesigner babies. I donāt feel much like jerking off into a cup.ā
āItās not like that.ā
āOh, yeah, what are we going to tell our children, that theyāre father beat his meat to an all girl lesbian orgy video with tribbing, strap-ons and double dongs, so they could be born in a petri dish?ā
āYouāre so disgusting.ā
āIf you think thatās disgusting, how are we going to make a baby? Are you going to fuck me proper or do you want me to jerk off to Disney videos at the sperm bank, so, in your mind, you donāt think Iām a pervert?ā
Artist sitting on friends couch surrounded by papers making phone calls.
āHey Bud, I need a favor.ā
āI know. She contacted me.ā
āSo you know my situation.ā
āI know you are a dick for hitting her and killing her dogs.ā
āI didnāt kill her dogs or hit her.ā
āWell, thatās what sheās been telling everyone. Your name is mud.ā
āYou know Iām not the monster she describes.ā
āI donāt know, Man. She sounded pretty convincing. I canāt let you stay at my house. I donāt want to get involved, Sorry.ā
Artist hears phone line go silent when friend hangs up on him as his Buddy enters room asking, āHave you found another place to stay yet?ā
āNo, Man. Sheās been calling everyone and telling them shit about me. No one wants to get near me, they think Iām a dog killer, wife beater and child molester. Thatās what I get for doing the right thing. No wonder no one wants to get involved.ā
āSee something say something get fucked. Thatās why I mind my own business.ā Artistās Buddy says while taking a toke from joint and passing it to downtrodden Artist. āHere, this will calm you down.ā
āThanks, Man.ā
āNo worries.ā Buddy pauses to take hit from joint passed back to him from Artist. āI hate to be a dick but you got to get out of here tomorrow. My family doesnāt take kindly to dog killers and child molesters.ā
āCongratulations! Our hard work paid off. Weāre set to make well over seven figures this year in profit.ā
āThatās great. We should celebrate by taking off for the weekend. Maybe get a hotel somewhere nice,Ā since tomorrow is our six year anniversary.ā
āOh, about that, my daughter and her new boyfriend are running a 5k for charity tomorrow and she asked if we could watch her kids this weekend.ā
āDoes she know itās our anniversary?ā
āYes, but, I told her we would. You know how much I love those kids.ā
āIf thatās what you want. If it makes you happy.ā
āIt does.ā
āIf Mama aināt happy, nobodyās happy, so I guess weāre babysitting your grandkids for our anniversary.ā The Artist says, as Countess rises from table to kiss him on lips, saying, āThank you Baby. I love you so much. Youāre the best.ā
Artist reads Injunction with Friend as both smoke bong.
āI canāt believe she told police I am a terrorist with bombs and a cache of assault rifles. No wonder they showed up with swat teams and bomb sniffing dogs.ā
āWhat a cunt!ā Friend says exhaling a cloud of smoke. āThe Bitch tried getting you killed by police, thatās called swatting.ā
āI know, the police said she was cop shopping too, trying to find officers that were sympathetic to her cause.ā
āThatās bullshit, Man, cops always take the womanās side.ā
āThanks for letting me stay here, Man, everyone thinks Iām a prick because of her.ā
āI know you are a prick but you are my prick and Iām not going to let you crumble because of some dumb bitches lies.ā
āMan, I need to get an attorney but she cleared out my bank account and left me penniless.ā
āListen dude, you can crash on my couch as long as you like but I aināt lending you any money. Iām not a bank.ā
āYouāve got three weeks to raise the money to save your good name and reputation, so if I were you, Iād be selling my ass on the street if I had to.ā
Artist enters Courtroom with attorney and sees Countess sitting beside Domestic Abuse Counselor in packed Court as female Judge enters room, Bailiff says, āAll rise, the Honorable Judge Lynn Topper presiding.ā
āYou may be seated.ā The Judge addresses the packed courtroom. āWe are hear today to rule on Injunctions for protection against domestic abuse. These are summary proceedings. There is no opening statement, no closing statement, no character witnesses, no long stories and background information about personality disorders or all of the circumstances surrounding the situation. I want facts. Cut to the chase. I wonāt stand for any long stories about the history of your relationship, work history, residence history or contribution to the relationship because itās not relevant. Iām here to determine one thing and one thing only, is the petitioner a victim of an act of violence or is the petitioner in imminent danger of becoming a victim of an act of domestic violence under section 741.30 of Florida statutes. The burden of proof is on the Petitioner to speak specifically about the act of violence perpetrated against the Petitioner and Iām not talking about yelling, cursing, threats or intimidation. I want dates, time and location of specific acts that caused the Petitioner to become a victim. Nothing else matters in my Court. Now, if I do find the Petitioner to be a victim of domestic abuse, I am authorized to sentence the Respondent to up to, but no more than, five and a half months in jail. With that in mind, letās proceed. Bailiff, whatās the first case on the docket?ā
Doctor plays chess with artist in Penthouse overlooking Ocean.
āRemember this, my friend.ā Doctor says to Artist as he puts Artistās King in check with pawn. āYou can always count on cops being overworked, underpaid and lazy and lawyers being greedy. Thatās why you can always get away with murder.ā Doctor winks at Artist before adding, āThat is of course, if you are smart, like me.ā
In packed Courtroom, Judge addresses female Petitioner, with lawyer, in front of Respondent, without lawyer, defending himself pro se.
āYou testified under oath that you witnessed the Respondent beating your son with his fists, did you not?ā
āYes, your Honor, I did.ā
āThen why in the police report, taken minutes after police arrested your domestic partner, did your son write, and I quote, āI thought he would hit me but he didnāt.ā , end quote?ā
āI donāt know, your Honor.ā
āOh, I think I know. If your son had been struck by the Respondent, as you claim, he would have remembered it moments after it happened and included it in the police report. There is a big difference between thinking you are going to get hit and actually getting hit. Iāll tell you what I think. I think the Respondent , as he stated under oath, told you he wanted you and your kids out of his home months ago. I think you tried buying yourself some time by filing this injunction and putting this man in jail without just cause. Your lies have put this man through hell. Therefore, I am denying your request for permanent injunction and dismissing this case for providing insufficient evidence under Florida Law sections 741.30. Whoās next Bailiff?ā
āYour Honor, Case number 2016DR002970DRAXES, The Countess versus The Artist.ā
Artist sits with Crackheadjesus as he floats in pool on inflatable Pizza in Speedos.
āYou will be challenged by the Justice System and you will learn that it is broken. No justice no peace. In your life, if you want peace, you must learn to navigate the litigation vortex, before it swallows you whole and ruins your existence. Remember, Motherfucker, the truth will set you free.ā
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