The Incredibly True Adventures of Four Stars, Two Actors In Love, and One Gay Landmark (Interlude)
10 Things We Love About Jake is the feature on People.com. Bwahahahahaha! Crack dealers, they are everywhere, kids. Just say yes!
Dedicated to my girl, ethrosdemon, who is having a shitty day, I break out the big guns. I would also like to thank everyone who played along with this game, because you totally inspired this section.
RPS/RPF
My Two Gay Uncles, Brad & George, and the ubiquitous Ari Gold
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
The Incredibly True Adventures of Four Stars, Two Actors In Love, and One Gay Landmark (Interlude)
For reasons that are pretty obvious to George, he and Brad Pitt are attempting to do the jitterbug to Charles Trenet's 'Boum' in Ari Gold's opulent -- noveau riche, according to Brad -- office.
Obviously they didn't start out doing the jitterbug on Ari's plush verdant carpet -- that's just a very entertaining interlude in what's already a seriously dramatic and dysfunctional partnership -- and George laughs, because everyone wishes they had a Brad Pitt in their lives.
Originally, Brad had come to town to see Angie and the kids, because he really is that whipped. George was in town because of all the Syriana ho-ha, and because Matt had floor tickets to the Lakers.
Of course that was all a smokescreen for the Boom Boom Room business -- but since they'd just happened to be in town at the same time since forever, they'd come to see Ari and talk about Jake and the photo shoot with Viggo.
It was the sort of surprise that wasn't one at all, but since Ari was off doing God only knew what sort of psychological damage to some poor schmuck, they'd decided to entertain themselves while they waited.
Ari had photographs of Mrs Ari and Little Miss Ari on his desk, and George had to hand it to him. "He's got a really good looking family."
Brad didn't even bother to look up from rifling through Ari's cabinets. "The kid's not his. At least I hope not -- for the kid's sake."
"She's pretty hot, too." George had pointed out Mrs Ari, and Brad hadn't even looked up from invading Ari's privacy.
Brad and Ari hadn't seen eye-to-eye ever since Ari had called Angie a man-eater. Of course Ari'd also talked at length about Angie fucking her brother, so that probably hadn't helped.
As far as George could tell, ever since Brad had hooked up with Angie he only had eyes for two women, one of whom couldn't even talk yet.
Brad made a hmming noise as he studied the paintings on Ari's walls.
"They're all fake," Brad announced just as Ari's assistant, Lloyd, walked in. How Ari had managed to land, and keep, an assistant like Lloyd, George had no idea, because everything that Ari wasn't -- gay, Asian, polite -- Lloyd was.
Lloyd hadn't actually come out to George or anything in the few times George had visited, but the fluttering eyelashes and the polka-dotted tie and waistcoat had kind of given him away. "Lloyd, what do you think of French music?" Brad asked, and George rolled his eyes.
"Lloyd, don't get him started, please. All I've heard about for the last week is about his ideas for the B&B and how inspirational the 1930s theme will be. All I have to say are two words, Bradley -- running water. We're not doing the Depression era slums, you got it?"
Brad laughed. "You talk a lot of shit for a man who just bought a gay bar."
"Oh my god, are you coming out the closet?!" Lloyd's grin was the biggest, brightest smile George had seen since he'd told Ari there was going to be a sequel to Ocean's 11.
And then George had had to explain his stance on human sexuality, which pretty much went, "I'll sleep with anybody at anytime, but no, I'm not gay. Or at least not exclusively gay."
"Except for me," Brad clarified.
"Well, you and Matt," George corrected. "And Richard. And Steven."
"I told you about cheating on me!" Brad protested.
The paperweight that Brad threw at George's head just missed him, and it crashed against the sofa pretty loudly. George looked over his shoulder at the crystal ball, which was apparently some sort of award, and then back at Brad. "That almost hit me."
Brad licked his lower lip. "Huh."
It had been really fucking funny in that crazy way that Brad seemed to be favoring more and more since he'd hooked up with Angie. They were clearly going to have to talk about that, but then Brad had decided to bore Lloyd to death with the details of the B&B's restructuring and all the architectural crap that was his responsibility.
Brad mentioned that his entire "motif" -- his word -- had been inspired by this one song, and he'd then convinced Lloyd to illegally download the mp3 from one of those file-sharing services that Brad loved, and George couldn't be bothered to learn when he could just get the CDs for free.
George had a lot of friends who hated the whole celebrity shtick, and he totally understood why, but the freebies were great. It hadn't been that long ago that George's been sleeping on sofas and in closets, so he always appreciated the free aspect of what he did.
And all that had led to this -- George and Brad both trying to lead, with Lloyd yelling out encouragement, and Charles Tenet's 'Boum' resounding out of the tinny speakers of Ari's laptop.
George can appreciate how fucking hysterical they must look, because he can see their reflections in Ari's floor-to-ceiling windows, and if he has any doubts, Lloyd's watching them them as though they've stripped and streaked down Wilshire.
Brad, though, Brad's loving it -- at least that's what George thinks based on the way Brad's trying to fling George around like he's 100 lbs. soaking wet and answers to the name Angie.
And that's about when Ari walks in.
"Oh my fucking god, I took a wrong turn at the elevator and ended up in Fagland. Jesus fucking Christ, I'm already surrounded by queers, what the fuck is this? Make a Queer Day?!"
Ari starts slapping Lloyd with the black posterboards he's carrying, and for a moment, George thinks that they're about to witness the first case of homicide by posterboard. "This is what I fucking get for leaving my best client with a queer -- you've made him gay!"
Whap!
"You've fucking made George Clooney gay!"
Whap!
"I always knew that Bradley was a fucking shirt-lifter, with that pansy ass name. Bradley. Who the fuck names their kid Bradley unless they want him to be a cocksucker?"
Whap!
"Ari, stop acting like a disgrunted ex-wife!" George grabs Ari and drags him off Lloyd, because, really, if anybody's acting like a girl, it's Ari.
Ari's howling and Lloyd's shrieking, and Brad's watching the scene quietly, but his temple is twitching, and George thinks that Ari might need to worry about more than his sexuality.
"I am not acting like a fucking bitch," Ari yowls, kicking out at Lloyd. "That fag just lost me millions in commission. How can I make you a convincing leading man if you're playing Rock Hudson... wait, wait, wait. Fuck it! If those old fogies can do it, I can do it too. We've gotta get you a beard. Who's available? Shit, did Tom Cruise steal the only lesbians -- what about Scarlett Johansen? You still fuck chicks, right? I mean you're an actor, you can make it believable."
"Ari, shut up," George snaps. "Lloyd, are you all right? And you," he says pointing at Brad, "sit down, before you have some sort of rage episode."
Brad snickers, even as he flings himself down on Ari's leather sofa. "Mr I Defend Everyone's Honor is worried about me having a rage episode? That's really funny."
"If you had some honor to defend, we could talk," George says, before turning back to Ari and actively putting himself between five feet and six inches of agitated Jew and five feet and five inches of terrified assistant. "And Lloyd didn't make me gay -- so you owe him a big ass raise."
"Oh, so it was gay ass Bradley who did it?" Ari's dropped the posterboard on the floor and is slowly bringing himself under control -- Lloyd looks like he's about to call the ACLU or The Insider.
"Ari, I'm not going to tell you, again," George has had enough. "Apologize to your assistant for being an ass, again."
George has never seen Ari truly contrite -- and it looks like today isn't going to be any different -- but Ari does at least seem a bit ashamed. "Lloyd, baby, you know how it is. You're a gay man -- you get discriminated against all the time!"
"Ari." Every two months or so Ari does something completely horrible and offensive, and George thinks he should fire him, but he ends up changing his mind because Ari really is the best at what he does. Plus, it's been almost three months since Ari threw a temper tantrum at the Geisha House and called half of ICM "disease-ridden crackwhores," so really, he's past due.
"I'm sorry, let's hug it out?" Ari says opening his arms wide. Lloyd just snorts. "Okay, fine, go pick something out from Tiffany or whatever gay ass store you want, but the key word there is gay-ass STORE not GAY ASS store."
Lloyd just shakes his head. "One day, Ari -- one day I'm going to start my own website called www.myagentsuckscock.com and you're going to be really sorry."
At this Ari smiles. "So, you are learning something from me. That's what I like to hear, fairy boy."
Lloyd throws up his hands and walks out.
"Well -- that was entertaining," Brad says after Lloyd shuts the door behind him.
"You can shut up anytime, Bradeena, or whatever the fuck the tabloids are calling you today." Ari stops himself before George can intervene. "Okay, okay -- enough with the flirting. I've got something that's going to make you both very happy men, and Bradgelina, if you get a hard-on, don't tell me about it."
George rubs his face with his hands and opens the bottled water than Lloyd brought in earlier. "This better be good Ari, because I'm feeling that firing urge coming on again."
"Thank fucking, Christ," Brad says.
"You'll be eating that in a minute," Ari says, picking up the posterboard he just assaulted Lloyd with. Ari's very pleased about something, and every time Ari smiles, George can hear the screams a thousand miles away. "Okay, I had the boys in marketing mock up a little something featuring the gays favorite bareback boy toy-"
George frowns as Brad gets to his feet. "I don't like the term 'the gays'."
Brad nods. "Yeah, I think that's not what we're after here."
Ari just rolls his eyes. "How about faggot then, how do you two queers feel about faggot? What the fuck is this pussy PC bullshit? Just look at the goddamn ad."
And so George looks.
And then he looks some more.
"Wow," Brad says after several seconds of staring.
"You want me to leave you three alone?" Ari says, offering them the mock-up.
Brad's mouth just keeps opening and closing. "That's -- that's --"
"That's really gay," George finishes.
Ari beams. "I fucking know. I'm a goddamn rocket scientist. Personally, this shit makes my balls retreat into my belly, but if the sight of Jake Gyllenhaal glistening and half-dressed gets off the gays, who cares? Plus, I know women, and women would ejaculate like some kind of Japanese porn and the gays would kill their Pomeranians with their own manicured hands to get in on that," he says, slapping the poster hard.
Brad clears his throat. "You know it's not called the Boom Boom Room anymore, right?"
"I don’t care if it's fucking called Your Mama," Ari says. "I'm here to sell the product and that's what I'm fucking doing. Speaking of which, if your boy isn't seeing that disease-ridden Ho Han-fucker, are you gonna get him another shirt-lifter or what?"
"Do I look like a fucking matchmaker?" Brad asks, tearing his eyes away from the posterboard to eyeball Ari.
"No, you look like a home-wrecker," George answers without thought.
"That's just cold-blooded," Brad retorts. "Just because--"
"If the next word out your mouth starts with A and ends with an E, I will stab you with Ari's letter opener."
Ari covers his mouth with the poster of Jake. George doesn't have to see his lips to know he's smirking. "Are the lovers having a quarrel? Aw, you want me to bring in a fucking marriage counselor or some shit? Should I get Oprah on the phone, B-Rad, or is she still pissing on your photo cause you left Jen?"
"Shut up, Ari," George responds without any heat, because this is what they do. They bicker and squabble.
Brad isn't fazed in the slightest by George's condemnation of his girlfriend. "I think we should just let him shoot the prints solo. I think it would be therapeutic--"
"Oh, shut the fuck up with the Dr Phil mumbo-jumbo. Who died and made you fucking Ricki Lake? Jake's a single boy, get him some fucking men! You can make it into the Best Little Whorehouse in Laguna Beach!"
Brad rolls his eyes, and it's George's turn to make himself comfortable on Ari's sofa. As far as sofas go, it's pretty nice. Brad probably knows who made it, and when, and what kind of leather it is, but George just likes the comfort. As long as it's not made out of pork, he's pretty easy-going. "We're not promoting swinging, Ari," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Why the fuck not? You've already got the home wrecker thing taken care of."
George snickers. "Damn -- that was my line."
"Keep it up, Porky." The sofa squeaks and shifts as Brad drops down next to George. Their bodies line up instinctively, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. Even on a sofa with room for five, they sit side-by-side.
George isn't anyone's fairy godfather. He doesn't even want kids, no matter what Michelle and Nicole thought about him being a father before he was 40 -- he's more than happy to take their money. $60,000 will buy Max a lot of pig vitamins.
"I could post an ad on Craig's List, " Ari says, tossing the mock-up on the desk behind him. "It would spread like the fucking bird flu -- Single, possibly gay, big box office draw ISO reasonably attractive, unmarried, also possibly gay same for eventual long-term relationship, lucrative contract as spokesperson for gay landmark B&B included."
"No man whores," George amends.
"Well, that leaves off Colin Farrell," Brad predicts.
Ari claps his hands together. "You're talking my language, kids. C'mon, make me something bigger than Katie Holmes Cruise is pregnant via Scientology."
George snickers again. This is yet another reason he doesn't fire Ari -- he's funny as shit. Offensive as hell, but very fucking funny. "All right, all right, who do we know who would look good with Jake?"
"Ryan Gosling," Brad says immediately.
George groans. "Why is everything out your mouth these days about Ryan Gosling? That notebook film wasn't that good."
Brad scoffs. "You're just jealous that you were too old for the role--"
"This from fucking Achilles?"
"Children! Children!" Ari claps. "I hate to break it to you, but he's boning that Mean Girl who's not Lindsey Ho Han. Next!"
"Topher," Brad offers.
"Oh, hell no," says George.
"Why the hell not?"
"He's a friend of yours, isn't he?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that he might decide to upgrade randomly at any given moment."
Ari's howl makes the walls shake. "Wow, do you want me to break out the Lee Press-On nails so you two can scratch each other's eyes out or what?"
George doesn't even try to hide his smirk as Brad turns in his direction. "Are we having a problem, sweetie?"
"I don't know; we might be. Let's see who else we've got before I decided to kill you for offending me."
Ari interrupts. "Luckily I have that brain chip where any references to what could be construed as a murder plot is fucking edited out of my hearing. It comes with the job."
Brad's voice is all droll humor. "Lucky us. All right, what about that kid that did that film with Jessica Alba?"
"Paul Walker?"
"Mormon," Ari says.
"No, the other one. The superhero movie --"
"Chris Evans," Ari supplies. "Dumber than a box of rocks. Not big enough."
"Heath Ledger," George supplies.
"Just had a baby girl with his co-star," Brad says.
"Oh, we should send them something on Jake's behalf."
"Okay, mom," Brad laughs.
"Doogie Howser bats for the home team," Ari says randomly. "As a matter of fact I heard a story about him and--"
Brad and George exchange a look. "I'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that," George speaks over whatever salacious story Ari's about to unravel.
"What about that kid in the other superhero movie?" Brad offers.
"Toby?"
"No, right movie, wrong kid."
"Franco, James Franco." Ari's brain is like a rolodex of actors and roles. "He played James Dean on some Made-For-TV thing. He's on the B-plus list. Not big enough for our boy."
"I saw that," Brad says thoughtfully. "He was really fucking good. Skinny though."
George just hmmms, which Brad knows interprets to, "No fucking way."
"All right, your highness," Brad says, stretching out on the sofa and putting his feet up on George's lap. "You don’t like my choices, you find him someone."
George knocks Brad's legs back onto the floor, and they spend several minutes wrestling as Brad puts them up and George knocks them down. Eventually, Ari breaks it up.
"Do you want me to leave the two of you alone, so you can play happy queers in peace? I'm just saying though, if you fuck on my sofa, you buy me a new one."
Brad closes his eyes, as far as George can tell all those late nights playing Mr Mom are taking their toll. Shaking his head, he turns back towards Ari. "Droll, Ari, very droll. Seriously, do you know of anybody who's big enough to do this?"
Ari grins. "Just leave it to me."
After Ari leaves, George taps Brad. "You think we should ask Jake who he might want?"
Brad cracks open one eye. "Nah."
---On to Part 3---
Key: Matt = Matt Damon; Steven = Steven Soderburgh, George's partner in Section Eight; Richard = Richard Kind, BFF to George
+ The art was provided by green_queen, so everyone can bow down to her right about now.
+ Lloyd actually is Ari's assistant on Entourage. He's played by Rex Lee.
+ Portions of this section were created with ethrosdemon and serialkarma because I have nothing without them.
Dedicated to my girl, ethrosdemon, who is having a shitty day, I break out the big guns. I would also like to thank everyone who played along with this game, because you totally inspired this section.
RPS/RPF
My Two Gay Uncles, Brad & George, and the ubiquitous Ari Gold
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
The Incredibly True Adventures of Four Stars, Two Actors In Love, and One Gay Landmark (Interlude)
For reasons that are pretty obvious to George, he and Brad Pitt are attempting to do the jitterbug to Charles Trenet's 'Boum' in Ari Gold's opulent -- noveau riche, according to Brad -- office.
Obviously they didn't start out doing the jitterbug on Ari's plush verdant carpet -- that's just a very entertaining interlude in what's already a seriously dramatic and dysfunctional partnership -- and George laughs, because everyone wishes they had a Brad Pitt in their lives.
Originally, Brad had come to town to see Angie and the kids, because he really is that whipped. George was in town because of all the Syriana ho-ha, and because Matt had floor tickets to the Lakers.
Of course that was all a smokescreen for the Boom Boom Room business -- but since they'd just happened to be in town at the same time since forever, they'd come to see Ari and talk about Jake and the photo shoot with Viggo.
It was the sort of surprise that wasn't one at all, but since Ari was off doing God only knew what sort of psychological damage to some poor schmuck, they'd decided to entertain themselves while they waited.
Ari had photographs of Mrs Ari and Little Miss Ari on his desk, and George had to hand it to him. "He's got a really good looking family."
Brad didn't even bother to look up from rifling through Ari's cabinets. "The kid's not his. At least I hope not -- for the kid's sake."
"She's pretty hot, too." George had pointed out Mrs Ari, and Brad hadn't even looked up from invading Ari's privacy.
Brad and Ari hadn't seen eye-to-eye ever since Ari had called Angie a man-eater. Of course Ari'd also talked at length about Angie fucking her brother, so that probably hadn't helped.
As far as George could tell, ever since Brad had hooked up with Angie he only had eyes for two women, one of whom couldn't even talk yet.
Brad made a hmming noise as he studied the paintings on Ari's walls.
"They're all fake," Brad announced just as Ari's assistant, Lloyd, walked in. How Ari had managed to land, and keep, an assistant like Lloyd, George had no idea, because everything that Ari wasn't -- gay, Asian, polite -- Lloyd was.
Lloyd hadn't actually come out to George or anything in the few times George had visited, but the fluttering eyelashes and the polka-dotted tie and waistcoat had kind of given him away. "Lloyd, what do you think of French music?" Brad asked, and George rolled his eyes.
"Lloyd, don't get him started, please. All I've heard about for the last week is about his ideas for the B&B and how inspirational the 1930s theme will be. All I have to say are two words, Bradley -- running water. We're not doing the Depression era slums, you got it?"
Brad laughed. "You talk a lot of shit for a man who just bought a gay bar."
"Oh my god, are you coming out the closet?!" Lloyd's grin was the biggest, brightest smile George had seen since he'd told Ari there was going to be a sequel to Ocean's 11.
And then George had had to explain his stance on human sexuality, which pretty much went, "I'll sleep with anybody at anytime, but no, I'm not gay. Or at least not exclusively gay."
"Except for me," Brad clarified.
"Well, you and Matt," George corrected. "And Richard. And Steven."
"I told you about cheating on me!" Brad protested.
The paperweight that Brad threw at George's head just missed him, and it crashed against the sofa pretty loudly. George looked over his shoulder at the crystal ball, which was apparently some sort of award, and then back at Brad. "That almost hit me."
Brad licked his lower lip. "Huh."
It had been really fucking funny in that crazy way that Brad seemed to be favoring more and more since he'd hooked up with Angie. They were clearly going to have to talk about that, but then Brad had decided to bore Lloyd to death with the details of the B&B's restructuring and all the architectural crap that was his responsibility.
Brad mentioned that his entire "motif" -- his word -- had been inspired by this one song, and he'd then convinced Lloyd to illegally download the mp3 from one of those file-sharing services that Brad loved, and George couldn't be bothered to learn when he could just get the CDs for free.
George had a lot of friends who hated the whole celebrity shtick, and he totally understood why, but the freebies were great. It hadn't been that long ago that George's been sleeping on sofas and in closets, so he always appreciated the free aspect of what he did.
And all that had led to this -- George and Brad both trying to lead, with Lloyd yelling out encouragement, and Charles Tenet's 'Boum' resounding out of the tinny speakers of Ari's laptop.
George can appreciate how fucking hysterical they must look, because he can see their reflections in Ari's floor-to-ceiling windows, and if he has any doubts, Lloyd's watching them them as though they've stripped and streaked down Wilshire.
Brad, though, Brad's loving it -- at least that's what George thinks based on the way Brad's trying to fling George around like he's 100 lbs. soaking wet and answers to the name Angie.
And that's about when Ari walks in.
"Oh my fucking god, I took a wrong turn at the elevator and ended up in Fagland. Jesus fucking Christ, I'm already surrounded by queers, what the fuck is this? Make a Queer Day?!"
Ari starts slapping Lloyd with the black posterboards he's carrying, and for a moment, George thinks that they're about to witness the first case of homicide by posterboard. "This is what I fucking get for leaving my best client with a queer -- you've made him gay!"
Whap!
"You've fucking made George Clooney gay!"
Whap!
"I always knew that Bradley was a fucking shirt-lifter, with that pansy ass name. Bradley. Who the fuck names their kid Bradley unless they want him to be a cocksucker?"
Whap!
"Ari, stop acting like a disgrunted ex-wife!" George grabs Ari and drags him off Lloyd, because, really, if anybody's acting like a girl, it's Ari.
Ari's howling and Lloyd's shrieking, and Brad's watching the scene quietly, but his temple is twitching, and George thinks that Ari might need to worry about more than his sexuality.
"I am not acting like a fucking bitch," Ari yowls, kicking out at Lloyd. "That fag just lost me millions in commission. How can I make you a convincing leading man if you're playing Rock Hudson... wait, wait, wait. Fuck it! If those old fogies can do it, I can do it too. We've gotta get you a beard. Who's available? Shit, did Tom Cruise steal the only lesbians -- what about Scarlett Johansen? You still fuck chicks, right? I mean you're an actor, you can make it believable."
"Ari, shut up," George snaps. "Lloyd, are you all right? And you," he says pointing at Brad, "sit down, before you have some sort of rage episode."
Brad snickers, even as he flings himself down on Ari's leather sofa. "Mr I Defend Everyone's Honor is worried about me having a rage episode? That's really funny."
"If you had some honor to defend, we could talk," George says, before turning back to Ari and actively putting himself between five feet and six inches of agitated Jew and five feet and five inches of terrified assistant. "And Lloyd didn't make me gay -- so you owe him a big ass raise."
"Oh, so it was gay ass Bradley who did it?" Ari's dropped the posterboard on the floor and is slowly bringing himself under control -- Lloyd looks like he's about to call the ACLU or The Insider.
"Ari, I'm not going to tell you, again," George has had enough. "Apologize to your assistant for being an ass, again."
George has never seen Ari truly contrite -- and it looks like today isn't going to be any different -- but Ari does at least seem a bit ashamed. "Lloyd, baby, you know how it is. You're a gay man -- you get discriminated against all the time!"
"Ari." Every two months or so Ari does something completely horrible and offensive, and George thinks he should fire him, but he ends up changing his mind because Ari really is the best at what he does. Plus, it's been almost three months since Ari threw a temper tantrum at the Geisha House and called half of ICM "disease-ridden crackwhores," so really, he's past due.
"I'm sorry, let's hug it out?" Ari says opening his arms wide. Lloyd just snorts. "Okay, fine, go pick something out from Tiffany or whatever gay ass store you want, but the key word there is gay-ass STORE not GAY ASS store."
Lloyd just shakes his head. "One day, Ari -- one day I'm going to start my own website called www.myagentsuckscock.com and you're going to be really sorry."
At this Ari smiles. "So, you are learning something from me. That's what I like to hear, fairy boy."
Lloyd throws up his hands and walks out.
"Well -- that was entertaining," Brad says after Lloyd shuts the door behind him.
"You can shut up anytime, Bradeena, or whatever the fuck the tabloids are calling you today." Ari stops himself before George can intervene. "Okay, okay -- enough with the flirting. I've got something that's going to make you both very happy men, and Bradgelina, if you get a hard-on, don't tell me about it."
George rubs his face with his hands and opens the bottled water than Lloyd brought in earlier. "This better be good Ari, because I'm feeling that firing urge coming on again."
"Thank fucking, Christ," Brad says.
"You'll be eating that in a minute," Ari says, picking up the posterboard he just assaulted Lloyd with. Ari's very pleased about something, and every time Ari smiles, George can hear the screams a thousand miles away. "Okay, I had the boys in marketing mock up a little something featuring the gays favorite bareback boy toy-"
George frowns as Brad gets to his feet. "I don't like the term 'the gays'."
Brad nods. "Yeah, I think that's not what we're after here."
Ari just rolls his eyes. "How about faggot then, how do you two queers feel about faggot? What the fuck is this pussy PC bullshit? Just look at the goddamn ad."
And so George looks.
And then he looks some more.
"Wow," Brad says after several seconds of staring.
"You want me to leave you three alone?" Ari says, offering them the mock-up.
Brad's mouth just keeps opening and closing. "That's -- that's --"
"That's really gay," George finishes.
Ari beams. "I fucking know. I'm a goddamn rocket scientist. Personally, this shit makes my balls retreat into my belly, but if the sight of Jake Gyllenhaal glistening and half-dressed gets off the gays, who cares? Plus, I know women, and women would ejaculate like some kind of Japanese porn and the gays would kill their Pomeranians with their own manicured hands to get in on that," he says, slapping the poster hard.
Brad clears his throat. "You know it's not called the Boom Boom Room anymore, right?"
"I don’t care if it's fucking called Your Mama," Ari says. "I'm here to sell the product and that's what I'm fucking doing. Speaking of which, if your boy isn't seeing that disease-ridden Ho Han-fucker, are you gonna get him another shirt-lifter or what?"
"Do I look like a fucking matchmaker?" Brad asks, tearing his eyes away from the posterboard to eyeball Ari.
"No, you look like a home-wrecker," George answers without thought.
"That's just cold-blooded," Brad retorts. "Just because--"
"If the next word out your mouth starts with A and ends with an E, I will stab you with Ari's letter opener."
Ari covers his mouth with the poster of Jake. George doesn't have to see his lips to know he's smirking. "Are the lovers having a quarrel? Aw, you want me to bring in a fucking marriage counselor or some shit? Should I get Oprah on the phone, B-Rad, or is she still pissing on your photo cause you left Jen?"
"Shut up, Ari," George responds without any heat, because this is what they do. They bicker and squabble.
Brad isn't fazed in the slightest by George's condemnation of his girlfriend. "I think we should just let him shoot the prints solo. I think it would be therapeutic--"
"Oh, shut the fuck up with the Dr Phil mumbo-jumbo. Who died and made you fucking Ricki Lake? Jake's a single boy, get him some fucking men! You can make it into the Best Little Whorehouse in Laguna Beach!"
Brad rolls his eyes, and it's George's turn to make himself comfortable on Ari's sofa. As far as sofas go, it's pretty nice. Brad probably knows who made it, and when, and what kind of leather it is, but George just likes the comfort. As long as it's not made out of pork, he's pretty easy-going. "We're not promoting swinging, Ari," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Why the fuck not? You've already got the home wrecker thing taken care of."
George snickers. "Damn -- that was my line."
"Keep it up, Porky." The sofa squeaks and shifts as Brad drops down next to George. Their bodies line up instinctively, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. Even on a sofa with room for five, they sit side-by-side.
George isn't anyone's fairy godfather. He doesn't even want kids, no matter what Michelle and Nicole thought about him being a father before he was 40 -- he's more than happy to take their money. $60,000 will buy Max a lot of pig vitamins.
"I could post an ad on Craig's List, " Ari says, tossing the mock-up on the desk behind him. "It would spread like the fucking bird flu -- Single, possibly gay, big box office draw ISO reasonably attractive, unmarried, also possibly gay same for eventual long-term relationship, lucrative contract as spokesperson for gay landmark B&B included."
"No man whores," George amends.
"Well, that leaves off Colin Farrell," Brad predicts.
Ari claps his hands together. "You're talking my language, kids. C'mon, make me something bigger than Katie Holmes Cruise is pregnant via Scientology."
George snickers again. This is yet another reason he doesn't fire Ari -- he's funny as shit. Offensive as hell, but very fucking funny. "All right, all right, who do we know who would look good with Jake?"
"Ryan Gosling," Brad says immediately.
George groans. "Why is everything out your mouth these days about Ryan Gosling? That notebook film wasn't that good."
Brad scoffs. "You're just jealous that you were too old for the role--"
"This from fucking Achilles?"
"Children! Children!" Ari claps. "I hate to break it to you, but he's boning that Mean Girl who's not Lindsey Ho Han. Next!"
"Topher," Brad offers.
"Oh, hell no," says George.
"Why the hell not?"
"He's a friend of yours, isn't he?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that he might decide to upgrade randomly at any given moment."
Ari's howl makes the walls shake. "Wow, do you want me to break out the Lee Press-On nails so you two can scratch each other's eyes out or what?"
George doesn't even try to hide his smirk as Brad turns in his direction. "Are we having a problem, sweetie?"
"I don't know; we might be. Let's see who else we've got before I decided to kill you for offending me."
Ari interrupts. "Luckily I have that brain chip where any references to what could be construed as a murder plot is fucking edited out of my hearing. It comes with the job."
Brad's voice is all droll humor. "Lucky us. All right, what about that kid that did that film with Jessica Alba?"
"Paul Walker?"
"Mormon," Ari says.
"No, the other one. The superhero movie --"
"Chris Evans," Ari supplies. "Dumber than a box of rocks. Not big enough."
"Heath Ledger," George supplies.
"Just had a baby girl with his co-star," Brad says.
"Oh, we should send them something on Jake's behalf."
"Okay, mom," Brad laughs.
"Doogie Howser bats for the home team," Ari says randomly. "As a matter of fact I heard a story about him and--"
Brad and George exchange a look. "I'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that," George speaks over whatever salacious story Ari's about to unravel.
"What about that kid in the other superhero movie?" Brad offers.
"Toby?"
"No, right movie, wrong kid."
"Franco, James Franco." Ari's brain is like a rolodex of actors and roles. "He played James Dean on some Made-For-TV thing. He's on the B-plus list. Not big enough for our boy."
"I saw that," Brad says thoughtfully. "He was really fucking good. Skinny though."
George just hmmms, which Brad knows interprets to, "No fucking way."
"All right, your highness," Brad says, stretching out on the sofa and putting his feet up on George's lap. "You don’t like my choices, you find him someone."
George knocks Brad's legs back onto the floor, and they spend several minutes wrestling as Brad puts them up and George knocks them down. Eventually, Ari breaks it up.
"Do you want me to leave the two of you alone, so you can play happy queers in peace? I'm just saying though, if you fuck on my sofa, you buy me a new one."
Brad closes his eyes, as far as George can tell all those late nights playing Mr Mom are taking their toll. Shaking his head, he turns back towards Ari. "Droll, Ari, very droll. Seriously, do you know of anybody who's big enough to do this?"
Ari grins. "Just leave it to me."
After Ari leaves, George taps Brad. "You think we should ask Jake who he might want?"
Brad cracks open one eye. "Nah."
---On to Part 3---
Key: Matt = Matt Damon; Steven = Steven Soderburgh, George's partner in Section Eight; Richard = Richard Kind, BFF to George
+ The art was provided by green_queen, so everyone can bow down to her right about now.
+ Lloyd actually is Ari's assistant on Entourage. He's played by Rex Lee.
+ Portions of this section were created with ethrosdemon and serialkarma because I have nothing without them.