by Jordan Cooke
Max got that, too.
“The Awesomeness of The ’Bu!” he shouted to Corliss as he ran and ran.
“I know, Max! I know!”
Somewhere in the Charred Canyon of Malibu—11:23 P.M.
: The
’Bu-Hoo
’Bu kiddies!
Hot off the presses! Or should I say hot off Malibu Canyon…?
Looks like M2 fired the wrong girl! And now he’s being punished for it with a second hospital stay in one week—this time for smoke inhalation!
Yes ’Bu-sters…Champagne Breath has done it again. Six hundred acres of prime real estate reduced to a gigantic ashtray. Guess the Red Bull can she normally uses as an ashtray couldn’t be found—so she used a tumbleweed.
Not. Very. Smart.
CUE AUDIO: Nelly’s “Hot in Herre”
More as it develops! I got to run—the Los Angeles Fire Commission wants to talk to everyone—and you KNOW I’ve got the hottest dirt…
So stay tuned, ’Bu babies. The footage is in the can and the can is in Michael Rothstein’s pudgy little hands.
The future of The ’Bu is being decided as we speak.
’Bu-bye,
MBK
Eleven
The Garden at the Chateau Marmont—4:42 P.M., a Few Days Later
Corliss had ordered a martini, per Uncle Ross’s wishes, but she wasn’t in the mood to try it.
“Corliss, my darling,” he said, “Hendrick’s is very good gin and it’s such a tragedy to see it sitting there getting all warm in the afternoon sun.”
“Sorry, Uncle Ross. I know I should try drinking underage—I’m such a bad niece. But the truth is, I’m bummed my butt got canned.”
“Corliss, such coarseness doesn’t become you.”
“Well, it’s what happened! And I know I hated that job—babysitting Legend—that lisping bad seed—running covert seduction schemes, wiping Anushka Peters’s waxed butt—”
“Again with the coarseness,” he said, shaking his head. “And you really could have spared me that last image.”
“Look, Uncle Ross, I guess I was just starting to realize that, even with all that awful stuff, some days made everything totally worth it.”
Uncle Ross leaned in. “How exactly?”
Corliss hadn’t really thought about it. “I guess I felt that thing you feel when you’re a part of something bigger than yourself. All these creative people! All the excitement! And it all came together like magic. I mean, who was I kidding? Nothing like that ever could have happened in my old boring life before I had highlights and contact lenses and a sense of style.”
“You are looking very fetching lately, I must say…” He looked away for the umpteenth time since they’d sat down.
“But what good does it do me if I’m just going to be sad and lonely with nothing to do? Sitting in a garden with a martini I don’t feel like drinking with my uncle, who’s making goo-goo eyes at the waiter instead of listening to me.”
“But he’s sooo charmant, Corliss.”
“And besides, I kept thinking Max would call me and apologize, at least—especially after all the encouragement I gave him the other day. But nothing, zip, zero, zilch. God, I’m sorry to be so whiny.”
“On the contrary. Your life is so disastrous it makes me feel positively peachy about mine.”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t even asked you how you’re doing.”
“I’m in a very good place lately, thank you. Jurgen has quit the dog-walking business and he’s returning to his law office where he handles plastic surgery malpractice cases.”
“Guess that’s a big field out here.”
“Corliss, you have no idea. He’s already in the midst of representing Courtney Love, who recently had her nose reattached an inch too far to the left.”
“Gotta hurt.”
“The truth is, he doesn’t miss the pooches in the least. He loves his malpractice work—wait—I just had a thought. Maybe I can get you an internship there? It might not be television, but it’s very Hollywood.”
“Huh. Okay. Well, I guess it beats sitting around your pool every day…”
“So, shall we stay and order an early dinner? The bar menu has a divine grilled codpiece.”
“Don’t you mean cod, Uncle Ross?”
But he was too busy winking at the bartender to respond.
“I would love to stay and have dinner with you,” she said, looking at her watch, “but I’m having dinner with Anushka. She says she feels sorry about how everything turned out and she wants to treat me to a special meal.”
“And Anushka is the one whose waxed butt you wiped?”
“It was a metaphor, Uncle Ross!”
“Don’t worry, Corliss,” he whispered across the table. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
Matsuhisa Restaurant, Beverly Hills—7:21 P.M.
Anushka and Corliss sat staring in awe at their dinner. Towers of the most gorgeous sushi sat glistening in front of them.
“What do you think?” asked an impish Japanese man standing above them in a white chef’s coat.
“Nobu Matsuhisa himself, ladies and gentlemen,” called Anushka to everyone in the place. “The most famous sushi chef in the world!”
Diners applauded politely, then whispered and pointed to Anushka and Nobu both. Nobu bowed humbly and asked of the girls, “Which dish looks best, please?”
“I like the Anushka Maki, of course!” said the girl for whom the roll had been named.
“Aha,” he said. “Caviar, a touch of crab, and whitefish. Very good!”
“I can’t believe they named a roll for you,” said Corliss, who was—even after all they’d been through together—still struck by Anushka’s fame.
Nobu went on. “I make with caviar because of your elegance. I make with touch of crab because you don’t want to cross her!”
Nobu and Anushka laughed hard at this.
“And whitefish because your family from Russia. Enjoy!” He took Anushka’s hand, kissed it, and moved away.
“Wow,” said Corliss. “If I had a maki roll named after me, it would be flounder and fish sticks.” But as she approached the Anushka roll, her eyes glowing in anticipation, she suddenly stopped. “Wait, did Nobu say you have a Russian background?”
Anushka made a face. “It’s not in the official bio, but yeah. Anushka Peters is really Anushka Petrovsky.”
“That’s so awesome.”
“Yup. The veddy glamorous star you are dining with grew up on Fairfax over her parents’ deli. For ten whole years I smelled like pastrami and lox.”
Corliss couldn’t believe it. “And look at you now.”
“Don’t mind if you do,” said Anushka, chomping on the Anushka roll and smiling as it ran through her teeth.
“That is so not pretty,” said Corliss. “You know, I bet Rocco would be fascinated to hear about your family. He reads all those Russian novels. Not that I’ll ever see Rocco again…”
“Who cares? He’s so in love with his Rocco-ness. He’s all, ‘I’m so buff and serious and you’re all children.’ After I started the fire the other day he just looked at me like I was some imbecile. Which I guess I was.” She put her sushi down and lost her smile. “I really think I’ve done it this time, Cor. Insurance is gonna pay for it, of course, but that stupid blog made it sound like I meant to do it! Which of course I didn’t. I just wasn’t thinking…as usual. I could really get into trouble if the network wants to make a big deal about it.”
“Don’t worry, Anushka. I know you didn’t mean it. And you’re the undisputed star of The ’Bu! Everyone knows that. They’ll figure something out.”
Anushka stuffed more of the Anushka roll in her mouth and crossed her eyes. “I hate being serious!” She stuck a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag.
JB ran up to the table.
“Speaking of the gag reflex, look who’s here.”
“Survivors of the great Malibu Canyon fire, unite!”
Corliss lit up. “JB!”
“Jeebs, pull up a seat,” said Anushka, grabbing a chair from a table nearby.
“Hey, fire starter!”
“Watch it.”
“Yikes! So what are you chickies doin’ here?”
“Ordering a happy meal, what does it look like?” Anushka twisted one of JB’s nips.
“Careful, Anushk!” he said as he swatted her away. “That means we’re engaged where I come from.”
“What are you doing here, JB?” asked Corliss.
“When I was in high school, I worked for Nobu chopping seaweed. For five whole years I smelled like fish food.”
Corliss sighed. “You’ve both smelled like so many interesting things.”
“He’s kidding, Cor. I invited him. We miss ya, okay? Everyone does.”
She was touched. And she was really happy to see them. They were part of the magic she’d told Uncle Ross about.
“You guys are the best.”
JB smiled his goofy grin. “Does that mean we can all make out later?”
“No!” they said in unison.
“Okay, everyone, quit yapping, start eatin’,” said Anushka.
Corliss started into the food. Everything was beyond delicious. She swooned and made noises that made Anushka and JB laugh.
Anushka raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you sound like when you’re with Trent?”
Corliss covered her mouth, embarrassed. “I told you that wasn’t true, Anushka! That was just another one of Max’s ridiculous missions for me that went really wrong.”
“Yeah,” said JB, “I think I’ve got to assume part of the blame on that one.”
“No, JB, you were only trying to help.”
Anushka smirked. “Help pimp you out!”
JB threw an unagi roll at Anushka’s head. Anushka pinched his nose with her chopsticks.
“Stop it, you two. We don’t get to see each other all the time anymore and I don’t want a fish fight.”
They hung their heads.
“I really am sorry you got canned, Cor,” said Anushka. “You were the best thing that ever happened to M2. That’s what they call him in that blog. You read that thing, JB?”
JB looked nervous. “Me? I’m hardly ever online, so I wouldn’t know.”
Corliss gave him a funny look. “But you’re the one that told me about it.”
“Yeah, but I don’t read it anymore—I live it! So, Corliss, what’s your plan?”
“Yeah, Cor, you’re not going back to Iowa, are you?”
“Indiana.”
“Damn!” Anushka said, flinging wasabi at JB. “I knew it was one of those ‘I’ states.”
“No, I’m not going back there. I think I’m going to do an internship at my uncle Ross’s boyfriend’s law office.” Corliss tried to make it sound exciting. “We’re handling the Shia LaBeouf trespassing suit.”
Anushka and JB shot each other a look.
“Bo-ring,” said Anushka.
“Yeah,” said JB, flicking ginger at Anushka. “Sounds like that could get old pretty fast. Besides, you’re too creative to work in a law firm.”
Corliss knew they were right, so she changed the subject. “So do you think the show will be picked up?”
“All depends on how the pilot comes out,” said Anushka. “The network’s gotta love it or else—” She turned her thumb upside down.
Corliss tried to imagine it. “But it’s got so much potential! Your character is so complex, Anushka. She’s really smart underneath her hotness and, you know, can’t you see her going into politics or something?”
Anushka nodded. “I like, I like.”
“And Ollie is not just some typical nerd. He’s a funny guy who cares more about people and feelings than impressing girls and competing with guys. I’m thinking he should go to college and major in psychology.”
“Very empathetic!” said JB. “Sounds good to me.”
“Course, I know all about that stuff ‘cause I thought I wanted to go into psychology. I mean I still want to help disturbed people, but now…”
Anushka put down her chopsticks. “But now you want to helped disturbed people who work in TV, don’t you?”
Corliss knew she couldn’t hide it.
“Cor, those ideas are great. You should pitch them to Petey.”
“Yeah, Corliss,” JB chimed in. “And I’ve seen the way Petey looks at you—like you were a pretty piece of sushi on a delicious bed of rice.”
“He looks at Anushka the same way!”
“We’ve both got his heart,” said Anushka, toasting Corliss.
Corliss blushed. “You can have him, Anushka. But what’s your point, JB?”
“My point is that Petey would listen to your ideas. I think they’re pretty cracklin’ good, too.”
Corliss laughed, then grew quiet. “But…I don’t work for The ’Bu anymore. Remember?”
Malibu Beach—11:02 A.M., the Next Day
“It’s a wrap, people.”
“That’s my line, Rocco,” said Max, shaking his head.
“Sorry, Max,” said Rocco, wiping the sand from his Speedo.
Max watched as the technicians began to pack up the equipment.
Anushka couldn’t believe it. “You mean we’re done? It’s in the can? The whole thing?”
“Yes, indeed, Anushka,” said Max with a mysterious tone. “The pilot of The ’Bu has completed principal photography. You may now resume wearing clothes.”
“But what if I don’t wanna? Ha!” She turned to the rest of the cast. “You hear that, everybody? We’re done!”
Trent looked at Tanya with big puppy dog eyes. Tanya looked away.
“Yes,” said Max, “I will now work with the editors to turn the footage we’ve shot into a work of prime-time art. You are all free to pack up your condos and retire to your respective homes.”
“Yippee,” shouted JB. “Tarzana, here I come.”
“You’ll hear from me with the network’s decision. With hard work, and the blessing of Scientology,” continued Max, “our show might just get picked up.”
He started off for his trailer. His assistants scampered after him.
Amazing, thought Anushka. She’d made it. She’d even behaved—mostly. Of course, she had set the canyon on fire—but her lawyers said there didn’t seem to be any pending lawsuits. Knock on driftwood.
“So, Rocs,” said JB, “can I hitch a ride with you to the party next week?”
“Sure, JB. We can stop at Book Soup on the way. I want to buy you Tarantino’s memoirs. They just came out. A searing read.”
“Reading material for little ol’ me? You got it, Rocs. It’s a man date. Get it? Man-date?”
Those two are so gay, thought Anushka, then wondered what party they were talking about.
“Tanya,” sulked Trent, “will you be, like, going to the party on your own, or will you be, like, bringing someone? Like a date or someone?”
Tanya flicked her hair over her shoulder and responded coolly. “I haven’t figured that out, Trent. The party is a whole week away and that’s, like, a whole week from now.”
“I see your point,” Trent said.
“Hey!” growled Anushka, her hands on her hips. “What party are y’all talking about?”
“The big party at Michael Rothstein’s next Sunday,” said Tanya, looking at Anushka like “duh.” “Didn’t you get the invite in your trailer with the big bouquet of orchids and the champagne?”
Anushka looked accusingly at all of them. “No, as a matter of fact I did not get a big bouquet of orchids and champagne. Did any of you get two?”
JB threw his hands in the air. “Innocent man! Pollen inflames my mucous membranes, and I gave my champagne to the crew.”
“Anushka,” said Tanya, waving the matter away. “I’m sure yours just got delivered late. Check your trailer.” She clapped and jumped up and down. “Party time!” she said as she ran up the beach. Trent followed. Rocco and JB picked up the rear.
<
br /> That bouquet of orchids and that bottle of champagne had better be there, thought Anushka as she stormed up the beach.
Anushka’s Trailer—11:17 A.M.
But the bouquet wasn’t there. Neither was the champagne. And no invite to any party at Michael Rothstein’s. Anushka had torn the whole place apart looking for them. She was pissed, but when she caught site of her flawless bikini-ed body in the trailer mirror, her mood lifted.
Whatever about this invite. Guess one of Max’s assistants majorly screwed up. This would never have happened if Corliss were still around.
She grabbed her cell phone and called Corliss.
“Cor! Anushka here. Listen, next Sunday there’s a big party at Michael Rothstein’s for all the people involved in the show. Wanna come as my date?”
Corliss’s Bedroom, Uncle Ross’s House—Continuous
Uncle Ross was giving Corliss a nail wrap as she talked on the phone. “Oh, I don’t know, Anushka. Won’t that be weird? Me showing up?”
Anushka’s Trailer—Continuous
“Not with me it won’t be weird! If this footage turns out half as good as I think it’s going to, Anushka Peters will be back big-time. That makes me money, Cor. And that means I’m going to start calling a lot more shots. So you game or what?”
Corliss’s Bedroom, Uncle Ross’s House—Continuous
“Well, I would like to see everyone one last time…” She sat up. “Wait a second. Why should I feel weird? It’s Max Marx who should feel uncomfortable for firing me. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!”
Uncle Ross nodded.
Anushka’s Trailer—Continuous
“Thatta girl. Give ’em hell. I’ll book the limo. You and me will show up in style. Max Marx might have canned your butt, but you saved mine too many times for me to abandon you now!”
Corliss’s Bedroom, Uncle Ross’s House—Continuous
“Anushka, you’re the best.”
Anushka’s Trailer—Continuous
Anushka took another look at herself in the mirror and knew it was true. “Why is it I can never hear that enough?”
