Anyhoo, back at the penthouse we had finished breakfast and I finally managed to piece together the whole of the dastardly plan that this pair had dreamed up. I was to collect a pot of Warwick’s special love cream and bring it speedily back to Lulu, who would … well you can work out the rest. Once the baby was born Derek would use his theatre connections to let the story slip. They would first of all charge the News of the World thousands for the story, before using the results of a DNA test to sting our hapless Hollywood friend for millions.
I was absolutely stunned, how could they come up with such a cunningly ruthless, hateful and worst of all shit plan? “Really though? I mean Warwick? Why him? I’m working with names such as McGregor, Gervais, Spielberg, and Clooney and you want a love child from an evil leprechaun?”
“Hey Van Santo, don’t you think we have thought this through?” Lulu’s agitation was unnerving, “I’ve got to wreck my body having this bastard, the stretch marks and damage to my boobs are going to be with me forever – I’m damned if I’m also wrecking my fanny laid out in agony giving birth to a full sized baby - no way! I’m having as small a baby as possible thank you very much, pass the bonsai bugger a rope and it can abseil out without touching the sides, thank you very much!”
“Er, wow! You know I really don’t think that’s how it works; I’m pretty sure that…” My voice left me as I sat astounded at the level of ignorance I’d just witnessed. I wondered how I had got myself into this mess and then Lulu uncrossed her legs, providing me with the full Basic Instinct, and just for a moment I could see her point. I shook myself, “No – this is madness, you two are crazy, and I’m leaving just as soon as I’ve finished my cup of tea!” With that said I reached over and grabbed the last Custard Cream.
Lulu’s tears filled the room and completely drowned out the dramatic effect that I had been trying for. “But you promised, you absolutely promised – ‘oh it’ll be easy’ you said, ‘me and Warwick are like that’ you said, ‘I’ll pump it out of him myself if I have to’ you said. But it was all hot air just to get a feel of my arse, wasn’t it?”
“Er, well hang on – is there still a chance of that then?” Somehow I knew that I had blown my chances though, so I sat back and drank my tea in silence. Could I really do this? Could I really set up an innocent victim to help someone as deranged and socially intolerant as this? Could I really pass up the chance of copping a feel of her arse?
Derek walked over from the corner that he had so silently been sitting in until now; he clearly was not aware that he seemed less intimidating in his paisley towelling pyjamas than he had in his Nun’s costume, because he fixed me his most theatrical glare and announced “You will do it Mr. Van Santo, because there is no try – do or do not and if you do not then you won’t but if you do then you will, comprend-ey?”
“Er, run that by me again?”
“You will bloody do it Breeze or I’ll bloody well put caps into your bottom, and blow you!”
“Er, no - still not quite got it …”
“What Derek is trying to say, Breeze, is that we have your balls in our hands – listen to this…” at which point a Dictaphone was produced and turned on. I sat and listened to my slightly drunken voice as patches of conversation were played and forwarded past until what was being searched for was found…
“I bet you 10p I can make your tits wobble without touching them…. Get it? She thought she had said it ‘wares’ the soap… Do you know how connected I am? Of course I’m friends with Warwick Davis… Don’t you worry, Breeze Van Santo won’t let you down, I’ll pump my little chap until your cup is full to the brim, and you’ll be up the duff quicker than footballer’s girlfriend!”
I had to admit their evidence was strong; I was well and truly cornered. If they went to the press with that I’d never work again.
I needed some air and some time to think, so I grabbed my jacket and made for the door. I turned and took one last look at the vision draped across the sofa, my heart head and ‘Little Breeze’ started a full on argument, a row that would probably be going on for days. I left.
The drive back home was a lonely one full of dark thoughts. I was almost home when something caught my eye. My brakes slammed on and I just sat and stared, maybe things were going to be alright. Just perhaps… yes, this could work…
Oops, got to go, SuBo needs a hand with her corset.