I am so busy with my family beekeeping business these days that I have had no choice but to cut back on anything else. And, as luck has it, there is no sign of more time being available to me in the future. Which is a good thing.
Currently, I am into the first phase of my soapmaking and skin care products production. It’s going well. Time-consuming but going well.
This post is about our old friend Arlan Truss. Yea, him. He’s been exposed as a liar. And that woman he is with is right there with him – lying through her teeth all the way. It’s a nasty situation, filled with lots of phony fronts and about all the fake PDA you can stomach. It’s a disgusting site to behold – but it does make for great storytelling LOL.
Thanks everyone for the support. My best to all!
The stage was all set.
From the strategically placed lighting to the finely tuned sound equipment, all was ready for the big night at the Red Planet Casino. All that was needed now was the Red Carpet arrival of more than 1500 of the Country Music industry’s VIP crowd.
These were the elite of the elite, cream of the crop, when it came to who is making music and money, with or without the gross displays of “having it all” that some still insisted on doing, even though anyone with a brain could tell was about as real as a $4 bill.
Arlan Truss had been one of the big shots putting this all together from months back. And aside from insisting that he and his buddies and his girlfriend had most of the limelight, had also insisted on one thing that had the production staff buzzing. Arlan wanted none of the color blue in the room. And he didn’t want anyone attending the gala to wear blue either.
So they all obeyed?
Not everyone took Arlan’s crazy request seriously. A few of the stage hands slapped each other on the back and vowed to bring in bright blue podiums at the last minute so no one could stop them. Not many of them actually liked Arlan Truss anymore anyway. Since he had that weird breakdown most of the designers and assistants figured he was still out of his mind. And, in a roundabout way, they were right. Kinda. It was more like something was in his mind that was scrambling him up than what might be missing. But the effect was the same. Behind the scenes, Arlan Truss walked and talked and looked like a raving maniac. All he needed was a little drool to complete the picture.
So it was with the intention of setting Arlan off, and hopefully, sending him back to the looney bin where he belonged, that the most brave and bold of the staff went out in search of blue podiums, returning an hour before air time with them stowed behind the stage. They knew that just minutes before the show Arlan Truss would be far more concerned with his hair and how low cut his girlfriend’s gown should be to notice.
Besides this deadly mistake.
There was something else brewing. Amidst all of this tragedy, Arlan Truss’ now ex-wife, Delores, showed up for the event, and had made quite the transformation herself. She had let her hair grow long and tonight it was styled to perfection. She had also been working with a personal trainer for six months and it showed in the way her own cut-down-to-there gown fit. And she had a new man.
His name was Thomas and he was 10 years younger than Delores with a hit single that was rapidly climbing the Country Music Charts. He was in love with her. Head over heels.
So Delores’ joy was genuine. Not just a put-on for the red carpet. The ring Thomas had just given her the day before as a “token of his affection” sparkled brightly as she brushed her long, dark hair off her laughing face. And that glowing Harry Winston could mean more than a mere token. It could mean what everyone was whispering it could mean. Marriage. If Delores wanted. All she had to do was accept.
Keeping that in mind, remember that our friend Arlan aimed for nothing else but to be the center of attention and prove that he was still the “big man” in Country Music. Even though his light was fading – and had been for years.
This is why Delores’ happy situation irked Arlan. He couldn’t stand to see a woman he had abused for so long rise up and take a much better, damn enviable, place in the world.
Arlan and his freakin’ mess.
The girlfriend he had dumped on the phone while he was under Claire’s spell, was now fully back in his life. Vera. As soon as Arlan had contacted her she jumped at the opportunity and climbed back into his bed.
This evening, as usual, she had this odd and unattractive look about her. She was a fake and it showed. But that was all right with Arlan as he was as much one or more so. Unfortunately though, Vera brought nothing to the table that was helpful for Arlan’s lack of popularity. Just the opposite.
People, former fans of his, were harshly critical of how Arlan had had this online affair with Vera while still married to Delores. He didn’t care who knew or read it. Not his wife or his kids or anyone. The fact that Vera had played along with this evil game made her just as guilty. And the public hated her right along with him.
But what Arlan didn’t know about Vera was that she believed she was the mastermind of their relationship. That she had dangled her sexuality in front of him when he was at a weak point and that she had in fact found a vulnerability within Arlan that she could use to her advantage. And, as you may guess, what Vera didn’t know was that Arlan had actually grown tired of her a long time ago and didn’t feel anything like passion for her anymore. She was a pawn to him. A (quite dispensable) piece on his own chessboard that helped him look as good as man with a sagging career can look. She served a purpose. A woman to stuff into a gown and walk alongside him. That was it.
Enter the Blue Devil.
Ahhhh, as with most of my characters, everyone at this event had to reckon with Der blaue Teufel sooner or later. And as you might also guess, one of the stylists in the wardrobe department was in cahoots with the stage hands who had brought in the blue podiums. Besides two neon-blue podiums placed front and center on the stage at the last minute, said stylist had pulled Vera aside and talked her into wearing a blue satin gown. The rest, as they say, is history.
What was left.
A mountain of broken glass, splintered wood, and fragments of red carpet filled the massive hole in the ground where the Red Planet Casino had once stood. This time, our Devil Monster was really pissed. He left very little behind that could positively ID any of the dead.
Some got out in time. A couple of dozen. But a yard or so of blue satin stained with blood left no hope that one of the lucky ones was Vera.
How sad. Ha!