Some people are born with a special gift that makes them different. On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered around. They stared in wide wonder at the joy they had found. Thanks to my god-given “endowment,” when I became a man I decided I should move to the world-renowned San Fernando Valley to share my gift.
I knew I wanted to sign up with a quality production team, so my first stop was Hustler Video. I gave a brief demonstration of my skills using a mannequin, and they hired me as a stuntcock immediately. However, their bitter rivals from Vivid were staking out the Hustler offices. My formidable talent could easily wipe Vivid off the map. They acted quickly to attempt to neutralize the threat I presented.
It’s a little-known fact that adult film actresses in the valley moonlight as deadly assassins. Their abuse-filled childhoods, while making them hypersexual and prodigious consumers of coca plant products, also makes them the perfect killer. They have no memory and no conscience. They also crave cold, hard cash to support the monkey on their back (it is also a little-known fact that carrying a small Capuchin monkey or Pygmy Marmoset is extremely fashionable in the valley).
As I left the Hustler offices, new contract in hand, I jumped into my Aston Martin and headed North (which actually means West) on Highway 101. I noticed that I was being followed by a woman on a motorcycle, wearing a yellow jumpsuit and carrying a Hatori Hanzo katana. My heart jumped in my chest, for I knew right away that it was Jenna Jameson, the valley’s most notorious ‘cleaner.’ Jenna was playing it cool, she didn’t realize that I had already spotted her.
I cruised off the 101 and drove into the Hollywood Hills, Jenna still hanging back in an attempt to be inconspicuous. However, as I turned onto Mulholland Drive she revved up and moved in for the kill. She revved her Ducati and closed the gap, but I was ready. I hit a hidden switch under my dash, and a smoke screen of cocaine billowed from behind the Aston Martin. Jenna let out a joyous shriek as she lost control of the Ducati and overshot the turn, plunging to her death.
I turned off onto Laurel Canyon Road and descended into the valley, sweat beading on my brow. I knew that they would be waiting for me at my villa. As if on cue, as I rounded the corner onto Magnolia boulevard, a Bentley with tinted windows began tailing me. It was obvious. With Jenna down, they had sent in the heavy artillery: Chasey Lain. My pulse quickened. Chasey was the most ruthless assassin in the valley, and the Bentley was equipped with a HEPA-filtered ventilation system. My coke screen would be of no use.
Speeding through red lights in an attempt to shake her was of no use. She had the reflexes of a panther and the driving skills of a Nascar driver. I had no choice but to call Ron Jeremy for help. I cringed at the thought; Jeremy, “The Hedgehog,” would demand a steep price for any favors he provided. He had already laid claim to my firstborn child for the time I asked him for directions to the nearest In-N-Out Burger.
“Hedgehog, I need a favor,” I opined.
Silence. Finally, a sigh.
“You’re in trouble with the girls, aren’t you, mullingitover?”
“It’s Lain. She’s on my tail and I can’t shake her. They put a hit out because they heard I’m signing with Hustler, and they know I’ll take them down.”
“You fucked with the wrong people. You’re a dead man. I can’t help you with this one.” The Hedgehog made his opening statement. I knew this meant one thing and one thing only: he was going to drive a hard bargain.
“Listen, I don’t have time for this bullshit. I need cover NOW. Name your price and let’s skip the bartering.”
Another sigh. A pause. Finally, “50%, in perpetuity.”
“FUCK YOU, HEDGEHOG! No deal!” I screamed. He knew he had me in his grip.
Lain was still following close, the Bentley roaring as she pushed the accelerator to the floor. I whipped around the corner onto Lankershim as she gave chase.
The Hedgehog was patient. “If you don’t want to deal, you don’t want to deal. I understand. Good luck with Lain, you’re going to need it.”
“Fine. I accept your terms,” I growled through clenched teeth.
“A wise choice. I’m dispatching some assistance for you now.” His tone brightened considerably.
I floored the Aston Martin and whipped around the corner from Lankershim onto Riverside. Lain was still on my tail, and gaining. We were heading deep into the heart of Burbank when I saw the stretch Hummer cross the intersection and explode into the side of Lain’s Bentley. The two vehicles ignited into a single fireball.
The Hedgehog had delivered as promised.
The tangled wreckage billowed smoke as I pulled to the side of the street to survey the carnage. A second explosion from a flaming gas tank sent fire into the sky as I stepped out of the Aston Martin. It seemed remarkable that The Hedgehog would sacrifice the lives of his assassins like this.
I shook my head and turned to leave when a creaking groan caught my ear. In a split second I knew that I was not out of danger yet. Chasey Lain was still alive, and she was still hungry for blood. The Pygmy Marmoset on her back was dazed, but still managed to let out a howl of pure rage. Chasey leapt out of the Bentley, hair smoking and mascara obviously smudged. The skin from the left side of her head was peeled back to reveal a gleaming metal skull with a red orb where her eye should’ve been. Even as I reached for my Colt 45 I knew it would be of no use against her.
As she slowly stalked across the street a rumble emerged from the charred wreck of the stretch Hummer. Zombie John Holmes peeled back the side of the Hummer and Zombie Savannah crawled out of the shattered windshield. Chasey Lain turned to face them. She casually ripped a parking meter out of the ground and stalked toward Zombie John Holmes, her glowing red eye now blinking urgently. Zombie John Holmes leapt into the air, but Chasey Lain swatted him away with the parking meter. Zombie Savannah leapt onto her back and performed a zombie brain bite. Lain screamed as Zombie Savannah feasted on her android brain. Zombie John Holmes went to work of her lower half. I threw up in my mouth a little as I watched in amazed horror.
Within minutes police choppers were circling overhead. Snipers from the Burbank SWAT team began to fill the rooftops as the gruesome scene unfolded. Their work done, cyborg Chasey Lain crumpled brainless in a crimson pool, Zombie Savannah and Zombie John Holmes crept into the sewers and disappeared. I shook my head, put on my sunglasses, and slowly got back into the Aston Martin.
It was just another day in the Valley.
