Red Meat Cures Cancer by Starbuck O'Dwyer

Red Meat Cures Cancer by Starbuck O'Dwyer

Author:Starbuck O'Dwyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307427427
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2007-12-18T05:00:00+00:00


22

Politically Impotent

LOS ANGELES, YET AGAIN

Once the class action lawsuit was filed, the battle in the press began in earnest. Our PR guru, Zeb Nettles, now under tremendous pressure from the Link to produce positive spin for Tailburger, advised me that ABC, having seen the fireworks between me and Muffet Meaney on Larry King Live, hoped to have us face off again on Real Time, the late-night talk show with Bill Maher. With no recent school slayings or prominent white supremacists in the news, there was time apparently for a debate about beef.

This was a perfect opportunity for me. Finally, I’d have a chance to let Muffet publicly know what I thought of her and her lawsuit, and to let the hardworking customers of Tailburger know that our food was safe and good for them. Of course, I’d also have to conceal the fact we were purposefully undercooking our meat in order to increase sales.

Unfortunately, Maher, a stand-up comedian turned television host, wasn’t what you’d call a sympathetic ear. He met everyone with a certain distrust and every issue with cynicism, which made me nervous and meant I’d need to be on top of my game.

After arriving at the studio, a beautiful production assistant, Gabby, escorted me to a makeup chair and then the green room. Scheduled to appear with Morgan Fairchild and Arianna Huffington, I was surprised to find myself alone with Muffet. I opened a bottle of Evian and took a seat on the red velvet couch directly across from her. She pretended to study her day planner for a minute or two and then looked up at me.

“I see your plane didn’t crash.”

“I missed you, too.”

“I want that tape, Sky.”

“I’m sure you do, but you’ll just have to wait ’til Christmas. Have you been a good girl?”

“Asshole!”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Although Muffet grew pissier by the moment, I was really starting to have fun now. I couldn’t wait to get out onstage, maybe chat up Ms. Fairchild, break a few hearts. Ten minutes before showtime, however, Gabby poked her headsetted face into the green room.

“Did you two hear about the change in guests?”

Muffet and I shook our heads in unison.

“Bill usually likes to get a few celebrities into the mix, but Morgan Fairchild and Arianna Huffington canceled so we’ve flown in replacements.”

My mind raced. Who would be in the chair next to me? Robert Klein? Sister Souljah? Roshumba? George Will?

“Sky, do you know Traylor Hitch?”

Before I could answer, over the transom came Hitch, the blinding glare from his belt buckle unmistakable.

“Sky, you old sum bitch. How the hell are ya?”

“Hitch, what a surprise.”

I tried to shake Hitch’s hand but he insisted on some kind of Texas bear hug.

“Hey, Sky, I see you’re not missin’ a meal. No sir.”

Hitch then noticed Muffet.

“Whoa Nellie. Did I just enter an igloo or is that my imagination?”

“Hitch, you know Muffet Meaney, of course.”

“Well, sure I do. How doo, little lady?”

Hitch extended a hand.

“No, thank you,” Muffet replied, recoiling from the offer.

“Suit yourself, missy,” Hitch responded, hardly missing a beat.



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