The Poser by David Temple

Author:David Temple
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 82 MERCER Publishing

52

SKIN FLIX

Stuart and I were on our way to meet our next suspect, Thomas Showalter, aka Tommy Showoffer. He was not only the youngest CEOs in town, but also one of the most successful studio executives in all of Hollywood—thanks to his enormously successful online porn channel, Skinflix.

According to recent stats, the porn industry was worth more than $100-billion a year, and the United States accounted for no less than fifteen percent of that market. Showalter had gotten in the game early, combining life savings with his expertise of using a handy-cam. Merge that savvy with the cash from several horn-dog venture capitalists, and they were off to the races. Setting up fast websites and cheap cameras with broke actors proved to be a winning combo, and made Tommy and his team wealthy beyond their dreams.

Tommy was flashy, dressing more like a ’70’s pimp than a studio exec. I had seen pictures of his house which was the personification of gaudy. Even his car, a lipstick red $2.5 million Pagani Huayra, was over the top.

Tommy Showoffer. It fit.

Their offices and studios were housed in an enormous warehouse in the San Fernando Valley, on the border between Reseda and Northridge—an area known as the epicenter of porn. It was also home to the devastating 1994 earthquake. While news sources referred to the shaker as the Northridge earthquake, locals knew the real quake epicenter was located in Reseda. What made its location unusual was the family community of Reseda had fifteen public schools and five private ones, a number of Mom & Pop strip malls, and the one business which accounted for a handsome slice of those billions made in porn.

We arrived at the Skinflix offices at lunchtime and were greeted by a receptionist named Candy. Of course. She enthusiastically shared with us how lucky we were to spend time with Tommy, because he was often traveling the world to find new channels of distribution for his first-class smut. Today was special, as employees, cast and crew were on hand to celebrate his thirty-first birthday. She invited us into an enormous dining area where 200-plus gathered around an enormous phallic-shaped birthday cake—complete with two big balls and shaved chocolate for hair.

Classy.

After watching the group celebrate their boss for a good four minutes, Stuart and I joined Tommy in his office which overlooked a gigantic maze of small offices, medium-sized studios, and larger edit bays.

“Notice how the size of the rooms are commensurate with the importance they play?” he joked.

We both gave a polite nod, before taking seats in front of his desk—a huge slab of white marble set atop four columns. Tommy started to light a cigarette, but hesitated, looking at us.

Offering matching frowns, he returned it to a drawer.

“Okay, what’s on your nasty little minds?”

My expression: You’re a loser, but said, “Thank you for your time, Mr. Showalter, and as your receptionist told you we’re here about Meredith Johansen. Do you think she was a supporter of your business?”

Looking away, he pursed his lips.

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