Boy - The Boy Next Door Part 18

Don't give me that innocent look over the cubicle wall. Yes, you. What, you think Ididn't notice all the lipstick and finger-combing? You think you're getting out of here,don't you? Well, you're living in a fantasy world. You're not getting out of here until I see the copy on the Grant/ Hurley breakup.Got it????

G.

To: [email protected] From: Mel Fuller Subject: Dinner

Hi, John. I'm afraid I'm not going to get out of here as early as I thought. Can we scoot dinner up to ninish?

Love, Mel To: Sergeant Paul Reese

From: John Trent Subject: Touching base

Paul--

Just a note to see if you've come up with anything on the Friedlander case. I've been abit preoccupied lately, so I haven't called, but I got a little time on my hands, so I waswondering if you've got anything new. You know, the other night when I came into the building, the doorman wasn't there. When I looked around, I found him and the rest of the building staff in the super's apartment watching the game. Understandable, of course, being the playoffs and all, but it got me thinking: Was there a game the night Mrs. Friedlander got a.s.saulted?I did a little researching, and discovered that there was--at around the time the doctors sayshe was most probably struck. I know it's not much, but at least it explains how someone could have gotten into the building without being seen. Let me know if you guys have any new information.

John

To: John Trent From: Sergeant Paul Reese

Subject: Shame on you

You're taking an awfully keen interest in the events surrounding this old lady's a.s.sault. Any particular reason? And what do you mean, you were in the building the other night? Does this have something to do with that old woman's pretty next door neighbor? It better not. The DA does not take kindly to you all messing around with our cases, as I think you will recall from the last one you amateur-sleuthed your way through. Though since that did result in a successful conviction, they might go easy on you.... In answer to your question, no, we don't have anything new on the Friedlander case. We do, however, have a suspect in the transvest.i.te killer case. Bet you didn't know that, huh? Because we're keeping it under wraps, and trust you will do the same. I know they say you can't trust a reporter, but I've found you to be less unreliable than most.

Anyway, here's the 411: Kid's found unconscious in his bathroom. I won't go into details about why he was unconscious. I'll let your lurid imagination figure it out. Let me just say that it involved a pair of pantyhose and a hook on the back of his bathroom door. And from what he was wearing, which were a number of ladies undergarments, I do not think suicide was on his mind--although Mom and Dad choose to think so. Anyway, the EMS guys take in the fancy duds and note that some of them fit the description of clothing missing from one or two of the homes of victims of the transvest.i.te killer. Not much, I know, but it's all we've got right now. So why, you might ask, haven't we hauled the kid in for questioning? Because he's still in the hospital from his little bathroom escapade, on suicide watch. But as soon as that bruised larynx of his is healed enough for him to talk, the kid's coming down to the station, and if we can get him to chat, we'll find out if your old lady was one of his more fortunate victims. Now how's that for some detective work?

Paul To: Sergeant Paul Reese

From: John Trent Subject: Transvest.i.te killer

I'll bet you a box of Krispy Kremes the Friedlander a.s.sault was the work of a copycat...and not a very good one at that. Let's say this kid you've got your eye on is the one: Take a look at his other victims. All lived in walk-up buildings. No doormen to tangle with. All were considerably younger than Mrs. Friedlander. And all had items taken from their homes. Now, we can't really tell if any of Mrs. Friedlander's clothes were taken, but certainly her purse wasn't, nor the cash in it. And we know the transvest.i.te killer always takes whatever ready cash he can find lying around-- even Victim Number 2's laundry quarters. But Mrs. F had over two hundred bucks in her wallet, which was sitting in plain sight. I tell you, the more I think about it, the more I believe this whole thing points to someone who knew her. Someone she was expecting, so she kept the door unlocked. And someone who knew what apartment she lived in, so he didn't need to stop and ask the doorman any questions....And might even have known the doorman's habits well enough to know that on the night of a ballgame, he wouldn't be excessively diligent about maintaining his post. What do you have to say about that?

John

To: John Trent From: Sergeant Paul Reese

Subject: Glazed, not frosted.

And I usually like a nice tall gla.s.s of milk with them.

To: Max Friedlander

From: John Trent Subject: Your aunt Max, did your aunt have any enemies that you know of? Anyone she knew who might have wanted her dead? I know it's a big effort for you to think of anybody else but yourself, but I'm asking you to give it a try, for me. You know where to reach me.

John To: John Trent From: Max Friedlander

Subject: Aunt Helen

I don't hear from you for weeks, and when you finally do write, it's to ask me some c.o.c.kamamie question about my aunt? What is with you, man? Ever since you started walking that d.a.m.ned dog, you've gone all weird on me. Enemies? Of course she had enemies. That old lady was a b.i.t.c.h on wheels. Everyone who knew her hated her, with the exception of that freakish animal-loving neighbor of hers. Aunt Helen was always campaigning for some unpopular cause or another. If it wasn't Save the Pigeons, it was Stop Starbucks. I tell you, if I was somebody who liked to sit in the park and drink coffee, I'd have taken out a hit on her. Plus she was stingy. REALLY stingy. You ask her for a loan--just a piddling five hundred bucks-and it was like World War II all over again, only you're London and she's the Luftwaffe. This from a woman worth twelve million. Look, Trent, I don't have time for this stuff. Things aren't going as well over here as I'd hoped. Vivica is proving to be far more avian than I ever expected. She's going through money like it's conditioner, or something. It would be fine if it were *her* money, but it's not. She forgot her bankcard. I ask you, how does somebody forget their bankcard when they go on vacation? I wouldn't care if it were just a matter of buying her a sandwich now and then, but she keeps insisting she needs new shoes, new shorts, new bathing suits. She's got nineteen bikinis with matching coverups already. I ask you, how many bathing suits does a woman need? Particularly when the concierge and I are the only ones around to see them. Gotta go. She's got a hankering to go to Gucci. GUCCI! Jesus!

Max To:Max Friedlander

From: Sebastian Leandro Subject: Your message Max Got your message. Sorry I wasn't in. Where were you calling from? Hemingway's house, or something? I hear there's a bunch of stray cats that live there, which would certainly explain all that caterwauling I heard in the background when you called. Look, bud, I don't have a lot, workwise. I told you not to go on hiatus, or whatever it is you're calling this extended vacation of yours. A week here and there is one thing, but this has turned into a full on sabbatical. Dropping out of sight the way you're doing has hurt a lot more careers than it's ever helped. But hey, the news isn't all bad. If you can hang in there a few more weeks, the resort-and-cruise wear issues of J Crew and VS are coming up. They're looking at Corfu and Morocco, respectively. The pay's not much, I know, but it's something. Don't panic. Swimsuit issues are right around the corner. Call me. We'll talk.

Sebastian To: Sebastian Leandro From: Max Friedlander

Subject: You've got to get me out of here You don't understand. I *need* work. Any work. I have to get out of Key West.Vivica's gone mental. THAT's what you heard when I called. It wasn't cats. It was her.She was crying. And let me tell you, when Vivica cries, she does NOT look like a supermodel. Or any kind of model, for that matter. Except like one of those models they use in horror movies just before someone's head gets chopped off by a flying pylon, or whatever.Anyway, she's wracked all my credit cards up to the max. Unbeknownst to me, she'sbeen buying every piece of c.r.a.p driftwood sculpture she can find, and s.h.i.+pping themback to New York. I'm serious. She thinks she's got a real eye for the next big thing,and that it's going to be driftwood sculpture. She's already bought twenty-sevendriftwood dolphins. LIFESIZE. Need I say more? FIND ME WORK. I'll take ANYTHING.

Max

To: Lenore Fleming From: Max Friedlander

Subject: SOS

DEER LENORE, HI! I KNOW IT SAYS THIS IS FROM MAX, BUT IT IS REALLY FROM ME, VIVICA. I AM USING MAX'S COMPUTER SINCE HE ISN'T HERE. I DON'T KNOW WEAR HE IS. PROBABLY IN A BAR SOMEWEAR. THAT'S WEAR HE ALWAYS IS THESE DAYS. LENORE, HE IS SO SELFIs.h.!.+ HE YELLED AT ME ABOUT THE DRIFTWOOD SCULPTURES. HE HAS NO APPRECIATION FOR FINE ART. HE IS JUST LIKE YOU SAID, TOTALLY BORGEWOIS. WELL, YOU WARNED ME. ANYWAY, I TRIED TO CALL YOU, BUT YOU ARE ALWAYS OUT. THEN DIERDRE SAID I SHOULD TRY EMAILING. I HOPE YOU GET THIS. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I GUESS I SHOULD COME HOME, ONLY I FORGOT MY BANKCARD. IN FACT, I FORGOT MY WHOLE WALLET. I DON'T EVEN HAVE A CREDIT CARD, WHICH IS WHY I HAVE BEEN USING MAX'S. BUT I WOULDN'T HAVE, IF I HAD KNOWN HOW SELFISH HE IS. PLEASE COULD YOU HAVE DIERDRE GO TO MY APARTMENT AND GET MY WALLET AND SEND IT TO ME CARE OF THE PARADISE INN IN KEY WEST? ALSO COULD SHE SEND SOME BODY LOTION FROM KHIEL'S BECAUSE I AM PEELING. WELL, THAT'S ALL. IF YOU GET THIS MESSAGE, CALL ME. I NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO. MAX IS JUST DRUNK ALL THE TIME, AND WHEN HE'S NOT, HE'S ASLEEP.

LOVE, VIVICA.

To: [email protected] From: Jason Trent Subject: The cabin All right, I cleared it. If you want the cabin for next weekend, it's yours--on onecondition: YOU HAVE TO TELL HER. Seriously, John, you may think this girl is something special, and she probably is, but NO woman likes being lied to, even if it's for a good cause--which I'm not even sure yours is. In fact, I know it's not. I mean, come on, deceiving an old lady and her neighbors? Admirable, John, very admirable.Anyway, I'll have Bates drop the keys to the cabin at your office tomorrow morning.We're off to Mim's for dinner tonight, so I'll talk to you later.

Jason

PS: One thing I have often found works very well with women, when you have to tell themsomething you don't think they're going to like to hear, is to accompany your confessionwith a pair of .75 carat diamond stud earrings in a platinum setting, preferably fromTiffany's (the sight of that turquoise box does something to most women). I realize thatthis might be out of the price range of a crime reporter, but I a.s.sume you are going to tellher the part about how you are also a member of the Trent family, of the Park Avenue Trents.You are going to mention that, aren't you? Because I think it might help. That and theearrings.

To: Jason Trent From: [email protected] Subject: The cabin

Well, you might be a pompous a.s.s, but at least you're a generous one. Thanks for the keys. I will, of course, take your counsel under advis.e.m.e.nt. On the whole, however, I don't think Mel is the kind of girl who can be swayed by a pair of earrings, from Tiffany's or otherwise. Thanks for the suggestion, though. Gotta go. Last night she made me dinner, and now it's my turn. Thank G.o.d for Zabar's prepared food section.

John To: Mel Fuller From: Don and Beverly Fuller Subject: Remember us?

Hi, honey! It's been awhile. You haven't returned any of my messages. I am a.s.suming that you are all right, and that you have just been busy with this whole Lisa Marie Presley wedding thing. I just don't understand that girl. Why on earth she married that Michael Jackson, I will never comprehend. Do you suppose he is paying her alimony? Do you think you could find out for me? Speaking of marriage, Daddy and I just got back from the wedding of yet ANOTHER of your cla.s.smates. You remember Donny Richardson, don't you? Well, he's a chiropractor now, and QUITE well off, from what I understand. He married a darling girl he met at a NASCAR race. You might want to consider attending a few NASCAR races, Mellie, as I hear that there are quite a lot of eligible men in attendance at these events. Anyway, the wedding was just lovely, and the reception was at the Fireside Inn. You remember, where you and your brother and Daddy always took me for brunch on Mother's Day. The bride was just lovely, and Donny looked so handsome! You can hardly see the scars from that nasty corn-deta.s.sling accident he had all those years back. He's certainly bounced back! How are things going with that young man you wrote about last time? Max, I think, was his name. Or was it John? I hope you two are taking things nice and slow. I read in Ann Landers that couples who wait until marriage to have s.e.x have a twenty percent less chance of divorcing than couples who don't. Speaking of divorce, have you heard the rumors about Prince Andrew and Fergie getting back together? I do hope they can patch things up. He always looks so lonely these days when I see him standing around at Wimbledon or wherever. Write when you get the chance!

Love, Mom To: Don and Beverly Fuller From: Mel Fuller Subject: Hi!

Hi, Mom! Sorry I haven't called or written in so long. I really have been busy. Things have been going really great. Really really great. In fact, better than they've gone in a long time. That's because of the guy I told you about, John. Oh, Mom, I can't wait for you to meet him! I am totally going to bring him home for Christmas, if I can get him to come. You will just love him. He is just so funny and nice and sweet and smart and handsome and tall and everything, you will just DIE when you meet him. He is so much better than Donnie Richardson could ever ever be. Even Daddy will like him, I'm sure.

I mean, John knows all about sports and combustion engines and Civil War battles and all those things Daddy likes. I am so glad I moved to New York, because if I hadn't, I never would have met him. Oh, Mom, he's just so great, and we have such a good time together, and I've been late to work every day this week because of him, and I have accrued about 8 more tardies in my personnel file, but I don't care, it is just so nice to be with someone you don't have to play games with and who is perfectly straight with you, and who isn't afraid to use the L word. That's right, the L word! He loves me, Mom! He says so every day, like ten times a day! He is so not like any of those other losers I have been out with since I moved here. HE LOVES ME. And I love him. And I am just so happy, sometimes I think I could burst. Really. Well, I have to go now. He's making me dinner. Speaking of which, he actually likes my cooking. Really! I made pasta the other night, and he loved it. I used your recipe for the sauce. Well, with a little help from Zabar's prepared food section. But what he doesn't know won't hurt him!

Love, Mel To: Mel Fuller From: Don and Beverly Fuller Subject: Daddy and I are just so happy for you, sweetie. It's just so nice that you have met this lovely boy. I hope the two of you are having a very nice time together, preparing meals for one another and perhaps taking strolls through Central Park (though I hope you'll stay out of there at night. I've heard all about those wilding youths). Just remember though that there are men out there (and I'm not saying your John is one of them) who are only after one thing, and will TELL a girl that they love her just to get her into bed. That's all I'm saying. Not that this young man of yours would ever do such a thing. I just know there are men out there who do. The reason I know this, Melissa, is that, well, don't tell you father, but....It happened to me. Fortunately I realized in time that the young man in question was one of Those. But Melissa, I came very close. Very very close to giving away my most precious jewel to a man who most decidedly did not deserve it. All I'm trying to say, Melissa, is to get a ring on that left middle finger of yours before you give anything away. Will you promise Mommy you'll do that? Have fun--but not too much fun.

Love, Mom PS Also, if you have a picture of this young man, Robbie says he has a friend in the FBI who will run it through their computer and see if he is wanted for any federal crimes. It can't hurt, Melissa, just to be on the safe side.

To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k From: Mel Fuller Subject: My mother Would you please remind me never to tell my mother anything again?

Mel To: Mel Fuller From: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Subject: You told your mother something?

What are you, nuts? I make it a point never to tell mine anything. I am keeping a journal, however, so she can find it all out in the event that I die before she does. I bet she told you to get a ring on your finger before you go to bed with John. Am I right? Did you tell her it was too late? No, of course you didn't. Because then she'd have a heart attack, and it would be ALL YOUR FAULT. You chump. Are you ever going to start going to spinning with me again? You know, it's lonely, spinning alone.

Nadine ;-) To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k From: Mel Fuller Subject: Spinning Oh, Nadine, I would love to start going to spinning with you again. It's just that, withJohn and all this work George keeps piling on me and everything, I just can't seem tofind a single moment to myself. I'm sorry. You don't hate me, do you? Please don't hate me. I mean, we still see each other at lunch....

Mel

To: Mel Fuller From: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Subject: Hate you?

You really ARE nuts. Of course I don't hate you. It's just--and I don't want to sound like yourmother--but dont you think things are moving a little...fast? I mean, you two haven't spent a night apart since you...you know. And what do you know about this guy? I mean, really? Besides his aunt, what do you know about him? Where does he go every morning when you go off to work? Does he sit around his aunt's apartment? Has he taken any pictures of you? It seems to me that, being a photographer, he'd want to. Has he taken you to see his studio, if he has one? Where does he live, when he's not living at his aunt's? Have you seen his place? HIS place, not his aunt's? Does he even have a place? You mentioned that his credit cards are maxed out. Shouldn't he be working to pay them off? But has he gone off to any shoots since you've known him? I mean, does he even HAVE a job, that you know of? I just feel like...I don't know. These are things you ought to find out before you go off the deep end for the guy.

Nadine To: Tony Salerno From: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Subject: Help

I think I just did a bad thing. I suggested to Mel that there is quite a lot about MaxFriedlander that she doesn't know--for instance, where the guy lives when he is notshacking up at his aunt's--and that before she goes off the deep end for the guy, she oughtto at least find some of them out. I sort of forgot that she's pretty much gone off the deep the end already. Now she's not speaking to me. At least, I think she's not speaking to me. She's locked in the copy room right now, with DOLLY, of all people.I'm a very bad person, aren't I?

Nadine

To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k From: Tony Salerno Subject: Mel

No, you're not a bad person. And I'm sure she isn't mad at you. She's just, you know, in love. She doesn't want to think about anything else. Why don't you ask her if she and John want to come out to dinner with us tonight? Tell them I'll fix us all something really special. I just got in some excellent squid ink pasta. Let me know.

Tone To: Mel Fuller From: Dolly Vargas Subject: Nadine She's just JEALOUS, darling. That's all. I mean, have you seen that scrawny thing she's marrying? A cook. That's all he is. A glorified fry cook, who just happens to own a restaurant that, for some inexplicable reason, is doing very well. What am I talking about, inexplicable? It's completely explicable: his fiancee's a food critic for the New York Journal! Don't WORRY about it. Max Friedlander is a hugely successful, hugely sought after artiste. So what if he hasn't had any work in months? He'll be back up on his feet in no time. So dry your little eyes and keep your beard-burned little chin up. I'm sure everything's going to be fine. And if not, well, there's always Xanax, isn't there, sweetie?

x.x.xOOO Dolly To: Dolly Vargas From: Mel Fuller Subject: Nadine Dolly, you had better watch it. You happen to be speaking about my best friend. Nadine is NOT jealous. She is just looking out for me. And Tony is far more than a glorified fry cook. He's the most talented chef in all of Manhattan. But thank you for saying nice things about John.

Mel To: Mel Fuller From: [email protected] Subject: Next weekend Hey, what are you doing next weekend? Do you think you could get out early on Friday? I'm thinking about renting a car and driving up to this ski cabin in Vermont that someone loaned me the keys to. I know there's no snow this time of year, but I promise, it's gorgeous even without the white stuff. And the cabin's got all the amenities, including a great big fireplace, hot tub, and yes, even a satellite dish for the wide-screen TV. I knew that one would get you. What do you say?

Love, John To: [email protected] From: Mel Fuller Subject: Next weekend I would love to go to Vermont with you. Maybe you could bring your photography equipment and take some pictures while we're there. Because you know I've never even seen you in action? With a camera, I mean. You read my column every day, but I haven't seen a single photo you've taken. I mean, aside from last year's SI swimsuit edition.... And maybe before we go, we could stop by your apartment, so I could see it, too. You know, I never have. I have no idea where you live when you aren't at your aunt's, or what kind of stuff you have. I mean, what your taste in furniture and stuff is. And I'd like to know. I'd really like to know.

Mel To: Mel Fuller From: Subject: Next weekend Um, we most certainly can stop by my apartment any time you want. I'm afraid you're going to be sadly disappointed in it, however, since its furnis.h.i.+ngs are mostly of the Ikea and plastic milk crate variety. As for bringing my photography equipment with us to Vermont, I think that might be a little like a busman's holiday, don't you think? Let's just play it by ear. Why this sudden interest in my taste in home furnis.h.i.+ngs? Are you thinking of asking me to move in? It's a little late for that, don't you think, seeing as how all of my clean s.h.i.+rts are now sitting in your linen closet. Or maybe you haven't noticed. Well, they are. And I'm not moving them. Unless, that is, you would deign to give me a drawer somewhere.

Love, John To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k From: Mel Fuller Subject: You're wrong So I asked John if I could see his place, and he said yes, and that it is furnished with milk crates and Ikea furniture, which means it must exist, so you see he DOES have his own place, and though I haven't exactly pinned him down on the work thing yet, I will, because we are going away together next weekend, and we're going to have to spend 14 hours in a car together, and I fully intend to find out everything there is to know about his career. So there.

Mel To: Mel Fuller From: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Subject: I was wrong

Mel, I'm sorry I said all of those things. I had absolutely no right to. I am really very very sorry. Can I make it up to you by inviting you and John to dinner? Tony says he's got some squid ink pasta. Will you come?

Nadine To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k From: Mel Fuller Subject: Well Even though I am totally angry with you, I'll accept your invitation, just so you can see how WRONG you were, thinking all of those horrible things about John. We'll see you both at seven.

Mel

To: John Trent From: Sergeant Paul Reese

Subject: Transvest.i.te Killer

Okay. I'm not saying you're right about the old lady knowing her attacker, but I will saythis: It was definitely a copycat. You didn't hear this from me, understand? But remember that kid I told you about? The one whose folks found him hanging from the hook in the bathroom in ladies underdrawers? Well, we did a bit of investigating, and what do you think we found out? It seems the kid works for one of those dot com delivery companies. You know, anytime of day, anything you want, you go online and make a request, and they'll deliver it?

And by doing some discreet investigating at the kid's place of employment, we found outhe's been in all seven buildings in which a transvest.i.te murder has occurred. We got aprintout that places him at every single one of those crime scenes at exactly the time themurders took place. He killed them while he was supposed to be delivering ice creamand videos. And here's the worst part: the kid never missed a delivery. Not once. Just killed 'em, then went to the next place. And do you think anybody from his place of employment ever caught on, you know, that people were dying at the places this kid delivered to? Oh, no.And what do they have to say about this model employee of theirs? He's so quiet, so shy. He could NEVER have done anything so heinous as murder seven women for their lingerie and laundry quarters. We're bringing the kid down tonight. He got released from the loony ward for that supposed suicide attempt yesterday. But here's the part that concerns you: kid's never made a delivery in Friedlander's building. No record of anyone from that building ever even calling this particular biz. Just thought you'd want to know.

Paul To: John Trent From: Genevieve Randolph Trent Subject: I am very disappointed

in you, John. We had yet another family get-together the other night, from which youwere once again absent. I must say, I am becoming extremely irritated by your continueddisdain for us. It is one thing to refuse to accept our financial aid. It is quite anothersimply to cut us from your life completely. I have been given to understand from Stacy that you and this Fuller girl are quite the item. I must say I was astonished to hear this, as I have only met her once and under, I must say, some extremely unusual circ.u.mstances. In fact, it is not clear to me that she even knew the two of us were related. Your brother and his wife-who is, by the way, as large as a house; I am quite certain her physician is wrong about her due date, and would not be surprised if she gives birth at any moment--are quite reticent to discuss the matter with me, but I feel certain that you are up to something, John.And Ashley and Brittany had some very interesting things to say on the subject of yourwedding to a certain red-headed lady, at which they presume they will be flower girls,and are planning their wardrobe for the occasion accordingly. Is this true, John? Are you planning on marrying this girl, whom you have not even properly introduced to your family?If so, I must say, I never expected such behavior from you. Some of your cousins,perhaps, but not you, John. I do hope you will take steps to rectify this matter immediately. Only giveme a dateduring which you are both free, and I will arrange a casual family dinner. I would beonly too happy to introduce Miss Fuller to the rest of the Trents...those who are currentlyon parole, that is.

Do not mistake my flippancy for lack of caring, John. I care deeply. So deeply, in fact, that I am willing to overlook your exceedingly odd behavior in the matter.

But only up to a point, my boy.

Sincerely, Mim

To: Genevieve Randolph Trent From: John Trent Subject: Don't you worry Mim, Just give me another week. Okay? Just one more week, and you can meet her--properly,this time. There's just a little something I have to tell her beforehand.Can you be patient just a little longer? I promise it will be worth it.

John

To: Sebastian Leandro From: Max Friedlander

Subject: Any luck?

I haven't heard from you. Have you got anything for me? Anything at all? Look, in case you didn't quite get it: I NEED WORK. I am extremely low in fundage at the moment. Vivica's drained me dry....And now, more than ever, I have to get out of here: She's starting to talk about commitment, Sebastian. Marriage. Kids. She's turned completely bovine on me. I just don't get it. I come out to Key West with one of the top supermodels in the country, and somehow, I end up broke, and explaining my position on overpopulation. You've got to find something for me, dude. I'm counting on you.