My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One (20 page)

“
What?” Boris said, then stood up. He rushed toward me,
henchmen in tow. He stopped right in front of me, face to face.
“Say again?” He said.

“
I'm just saying, maybe, she was too sheltered as a kid?” I
said, sweating.

“
Why are American's always sweating?” He said. Then with a
right open palm Boris slapped me like a bitch. My jerked and
instantly began to throb. His hand was like a boxing gloved full of
bricks. “Don't say shit about my Elsa, never.”

“
My bad.” I said, rubbing my head.

“
You have until noon tomorrow to bring me Elsa, or I kill
you.” Boris reminded.

“
I'm going.” I grabbed the keys to my uncle's Mustang, left
the apartment.

In the small house behind a rather large two
story house, I sat in an easy chair. The small house was built more
tall then wide. The reason was so it could house a very large TV.
The house had a soda machine. A snack machine. Bunk beds in the
corner. One bathroom. Three easy chairs.

Two of the easy chairs
were occupied by Jack and Jeff Davis. They played
Contra
on
Nintendo.
They both wore
plain black t-shirts, torn blue jeans, faded Converse All Stars.
Both wore their long jet black hair in pony tails.

Without looking away from the game, Jack
spoke, “How can will help you Mr. Sawyer?”

Jeff Said, “Yes, Mr. Tuck, how will we help
you?”

“
You guy's are good with computers. I need you to find me a
woman.” I said. The two brothers laughed hysterically and even
dropped their controllers, but not before pausing the
game.

“
Mr. Sawyer, We laugh at you!” Jack said, still
laughing.

“
Laugh at you is what we do, Mr. Tuck!” Jeff said, his eyes in
tears. I leaned forward in my seat.

“
What the fuck is so funny?” I asked, still pissed from Boris
smacking me.

“
Mr. Sawyer, there is no disrespect behind our laughter, I
assure you. There are many woman on the internet, but none you can
touch.” Jack said.

“
None will let you touch, Mr. Tuck.” Jeff said.

“
Listen, guys, this is a serious situation and I have money.”
I said, low and serious. They broke into laughter yet
again.

“
We all have money Mr. Sawyer. What you are referring to is
illegal activity know as prostitution.” Jack said.

“
Prostitution is illegal, Mr. Tuck.” Jeff said.

“
I need you to help me research a person, well, a woman.” I
said, ignoring their comments.

“
Who might this person be Mr. Sawyer?” Jack said.

“
Who is she Mr. Tuck?” Jeff said.

“
Elsa Spotnik.” I said. The brothers looked confused, then
worried, then they broke into laughter.

“
You came here Mr. Sawyer to mock us or possibly entertain us
through comedy?” Jack said.

“
You must do this more Mr. Tuck.” Jeff said.

“
What?”

“
Elsa Spotnik Mr. Sawyer? Bad girl daughter of Russian mob
boss Boris Spotnik? You want to research her?” Jeff
said.

“
You want to research Youtube bad girl Elsa Spotnik, Mr.
Tuck?”

“
What the fuck? You guys know who she was?” I
asked.

“
She is only Russia's answer to Paris Hilton, Mr. Sawyer. What
more do you need to know?” Jack said.

“
Russia's Paris, indeed, Mr. Tuck.” Jeff said.

Now that I knew that, my plan seemed
feasible. I was coming together nicely. But the brothers needed
convincing.

“
Check it out. Elsa Spotnik is dead. She died in a pool at a
party I threw. She OD'd on a drug called Cloud Nine sold by her
father, Boris Spotnik. He is currently residing at my apartment and
he has given me twenty-four hours to bring him Elsa.” I said,
exhausted. “He thinks and wants Elsa to be alive.”

“
Wow. This dilemma is intense.” Jack said.

“
Your dilemma is intense.” Jeff said.

Now they both seemed scared and they
staggered around their equipment. At some point Jack had a keyboard
in his lap and he brought up Google searches. The big screen TV was
now our computer screen.

“
We don't have time guys, but we need a woman now.” I said
serious.

“
How will yet another woman help this situation, Mr. Sawyer?”
Jack said.

“
Another woman will not help, Mr. Tuck.” Jeff said. I looked
at the two brothers. I probably looked insane.

“
I need to find a girl on the internet that is for hire. A
girl that is maybe an ex-actress. I need her to have a strong
resemblance to Elsa Spotnik. Is it clear to YOU both? DOES THAT
MAKE SENSE?! I'LL FUCKING PAY YOU!” I looked at the time on my
BlackBerry and sighed. “We have nineteen hours to find a woman and
turn her into Elsa Spotnik.”

I fell into the comfy easy chair and nodded
off despite the stress of the situation...

I'm driving down the highway on my way to an
potential clients house. She'd called and gave me her address in
regards to a murder to investigate. I'm a Private Investigator. The
best in the business. Fat paid. Known for my accuracy.

I arrive at the dames place. She answers the
door and asks me to have a seat. I do just that.

“
What is this case about?” I ask. The girls prepares drinks at
the built in bar, complete with stools.

“
What kind of drink do you like? Detective?” She
said.

“
Seven and Seven on the rocks.” I say.

She joins me on the couch. Hands me my
drink. I don't take a drink of it just yet.

“
So what happened? How can I be of service?” I say. The dame
starts up in tears. She cries and says her sister was poisoned. Due
to jealousy. The dame was more popular. The sister, my client, was
the geek of the bunch.

So it didn't make sense for the geek to
remain and the popular one to parish at the hands of poison. But
for some reason as I took a sip of the drink she made me, something
about it seems funny in the taste...

“
MR. SAWYER! WAKE NOW!”
Came the voice of Jack. I shot up out of the chair, drool on my
chin. Confused.

“
What the fuck?!” I shouted.

“
You paid us to research Elsa Spotnik and find a replacement,
Mr. Sawyer.” Jack said.

“
We found a replacement, Mr. Tuck.” Said Jeff. Reality slowly
came back to me.

“
Who is she?” I asked.

“
According to our reply she is on her way.” Jack
said.

“
On her way is she.” Said Jeff.

“
Good. Where did you find her?” I asked.

“
Craigslist dot com. That is where Mr. Sawyer. We posted an
ad.” Said Jack.

“
An ad we posted via Craigslist.” Said Jeff.

“
Can I see footage of Elsa Spotnik so I know what decision to
make?” I said. The next half hour was full of Youtube video footage
of the real Elsa Spotnik running a muck in clubs and bars. Showing
her clam and nip slips. It seemed sad knowing she was dead and not
coming back. I felt bad for Boris. His only daughter.

After an hour of Elsa Spotnik footage, via
Youtube. I anxiously awaited the arrival of the look-a-like
replacement. This would work. Nothing could screw this up.

Then the door to their small house was being
knocked on. The girl at the door resembled her so much. But she
wore a torn Operation Ivy t-shirt, tattoos, and fish net
stockings.
I wanted to cry.

Her name was Cameron Clay. She was an Elsa
Spotnik impersonator. I figured she was there for acceptance. To be
the next big thing. She was going to need work.

But after she changed into her Elsa clothes
and worked on the accent, my stress went away. She glowed and I
believed she was it.

“
What are your goals as an actress?” I asked.

“
To be Elsa Spotnik.” She replied.

“
How do you plan on doing that?” I asked.

“
To take her place.” Cameron said.

“
O.K. She'll do just fine.” I said to Jack and Jeff. Her
make-up, demeanor was perfect.

I entered my apartment with Cameron
Clay/Elsa Spotnik in tow. Boris and his henchmen stood up. Me and
Cameron/Elsa stepped inside. Boris scoffed and sat down. I shut the
front door behind me. Cameron/Elsa entered.

“
I'm back.” I said.

“
Hey, daddy!” Cameron said running to Boris. He put his head
down, as if knowing some secret. She hugged him. He hugged her and
squeezed her. I was proud of the family connection. Boris had
bought it. Life was good.

Then, he looked at me funny. He asked the
daughter, Cameron Clay, to let him know.

“
What happen?” He asked.

“
Nothing. I want to leave, so I did.” Said Cameron Clay, in a
very good Russian accent.

“
You are not yourself.” Boris said.

“
You can't control me forever.” Cameron said.

“
True. You can't control her forever.” I said.

“
Where is my little girl?” Boris asked, pissed, he pushed
Cameron aside, he placed a gun to my forehead.

“
Daddy, it's me. I am your Elsa. I am sorry I refuse to speak
your language of Russia, but I am Americanized now.” Elsa/Cameron
said.

I looked at Boris and even though he had a
gun to my head, he had a tear in his cold eyes. He wiped it fast
and pulled back the hammer on the gun.

“
I did the best I could, Boris.” I said.

“
Maybe yes, maybe no...”

“
I'm sorry, Boris, really.” I said. Boris looked me in the eye
and it was clear what I was sorry about.

Boris pulled the trigger, but it clicked on
an empty chamber.

“
You did good, comrade.” He smiled that eerie grin. “Come now,
Elsa, time to re-learn the ways of Russia, again.” Boris
said.

I smiled at the girl named Cameron Clay, the
Hollywood native with plans to be an actress, she had just gotten
the role of her life. Daughter to Russian Mob Boss. With chances to
screw up.

The next day Lorrie Lovitt
rang my bell. The door bell, that is. It was 3am. I had a slight
buzz. I was watching season one of
Breaking Bad.
The initial sound
startled me. I answered the door, startled.

Lorrie Lovitt stood in the
doorway in yellow
Beatles
Pj's. Yellow Submarine. Pants and top. Her
slender frame hugged tightly. She stared at me. My soul
burned.

“
What are you doing?” Lorrie asked.

“
Watching
Breaking
Bad
.” I said. “Come in.” I
said.

Lorrie came in and sat on the sofa next to
me. I joined her and continued the show. Within five minutes Lorrie
Lovitt had her mouth on my penis. She did her thing very well. But
when it was done and we were cuddling, I felt she was mine. Then I
was erect again and this time I was on top of her. We kissed and
squeezed each other. I let loose all the passion I had held
back.

The next day, we were physically exhausted.
We slept the day away. Me and her being relaxed for the first time
in weeks.

Lorrie Lovitt was mine forever and could
never talk to anyone again. Only me. That was legitimate,
right?

Stay Tuned for Volume 2
COMING SOON!

Follow
@grey_state