Chapter 19: Strange Things Seen

40,000 feet above northwestern Illinois

October 31, 2001

“Now this is the way to fuckin’ fly,” said Matt as the Gulfstream IV cruised high in the sky (as Caydee would say). He and Jake Kingsley were on their way home from Chicago the day after their Rockline interview. It was a good day for flying, with only scattered clouds below and little to no turbulence. “I don’t get this private air shit very often. Thanks for hooking a brother up.”

“This is the way I am going to be flying anywhere in the continental United States that I can’t get to in my own plane from here on out,” Jake said. He was sipping from a bottle of iced tea and munching on an everything bagel with cream cheese, Nova lox, and capers on it. “Fuck that two hours in the security line shit. First class is nice, but private is the way to go these days.”

“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “It was nice to show up ten fuckin’ minutes before the flight was scheduled and just stroll from the limo into the fuckin’ plane. I even carried a doob with me. Wanna burn?”

“I do have to fly when we get back to John Wayne,” Jake told him.

“Oh yeah,” Matt said with a frown. “You’re still into that no toking or drinking before you fly thing.”

“I’m still into that,” Jake confirmed.

“Oh well,” Matt said regretfully. “I guess I’ll just have to smoke alone.” He looked over at the male flight attendant who was caring for their needs on the trip. “Yo, Bruce,” he said, though the man’s name was actually Richard (“call me Rich” he had told them when introducing himself). But, since he was quite obviously and flamboyantly gay, Matt had dubbed him Bruce. Rich did not seem to mind.

“Yes?” Rich responded, a quite apparent lisp on the word.

“Is it cool if I burn a doob over here?” Matt asked, holding up said doob from his cigarette pack.

“It is against policy for anyone to smoke anything on an aircraft in flight,” Rich replied sternly. And then he smiled. “However, I have a terrible sense of smell and I am not very observant. It is unlikely that I would even notice if you were to violate this otherwise ironclad rule.”

“You’re all right, Bruce,” Matt told him, returning the smile.

“Thank you,” Rich replied. His smile then grew a little wider. “You know, there is also a rule about sexual activity in flight, but if someone were to put something in my face, I would feel obligated to provide good customer service.”

Matt’s smile turned instantly to a frown. “I don’t fuckin’ swing that way,” he told the man sternly. “Never have, never will. So, unless you want me to come over there and kick the shit out of you, don’t offer again.”

“Understood,” Rich said, unoffended but perhaps a bit disappointed. “How about you, Mr. Kingsley?”

“Well,” Jake said, “while I appreciate the offers, I have to fly later so I can’t suck on the doob, and I don’t really swing that way either, so you can’t suck on my doob.”

“A pity,” Rich said with a sad shrug.

“If we ever fly with Charlie, our bass player, you just might be in business,” Jake told him.

“Yeah,” Matt scoffed. “It depends on which part of the fuckin’ moon cycle we’re in. He tends to want schlong in the waxing phase and bush in the fuckin’ waning phase.”

“He sounds like an interesting guy,” Rich said.

“Not the fuckin’ word I would use,” Matt said.

Matt fired up the joint and took a few hits off of it, filling the cabin with the pungent smell of Humboldt county skunk. He then lit a cigarette, filling the cabin with the smell of burned tobacco smoke. “How about another of these fuckin’ Jack and cokes?” he asked Rich.

“Right away, sir,” Rich said, rising from his seat behind the cockpit door. “Anything for you, Mr. Kingsley?”

“I’m good,” Jake said, adjusting the ventilation fan so it would better blow the smoke away from him. He enjoyed the smell of marijuana smoke because it had pleasant associations for him, but he hated the smell of cigarette smoke. He had not indulged in the habit in many years now—the last toke of a cigarette he had taken had been that day outside Portland when he had slammed his plane into a Canadian goose after taking off from Hillsboro Airport with Celia in the passenger seat (and he had boned her for the first time later that day, an event that no one but the two of them knew about)—and the smell of it now disgusted him.

“Thanks,” Matt said absently when Rich delivered his fresh drink.

“Glad to be of service, sir,” Rich replied. He then returned to his seat and strapped in.

“So,” asked Matt, who was now in a jovial mood thanks to the marijuana, “what do you got planned for the night?”

“Planned?” Jake asked. “I have no plans except to get myself laid after Caydee goes to bed.”

“That’s a good plan,” Matt said, nodding appreciatively. “Especially if Meghan the nanny gets in on it with you and...” He glanced over at Rich, who could undoubtedly hear their conversation, “ ... and, you know?”

“Nobody is doing the nanny except Massa the violinist,” Jake repeated for perhaps the tenth time on this trip.

“Yeah, right, of course,” Matt said with a little roll of his eyes. He still could not believe that Jake Kingsley would have a hot nanny living in his house and not be boning her. “But I was talking about Halloween shit. What’s your kid gonna dress up as?”

“Nothing,” Jake said. “We don’t do the Halloween thing.”

“You don’t?” Matt asked, appalled. “What the fuck, dude? Scoring some candy on fuckin’ Halloween is a vital part of childhood!”

Jake just shrugged. “We live on a cliff over the ocean,” he said. “We don’t have any neighbors to trick or treat. Caydee doesn’t even know about the concept.”

“That shit ain’t right, man,” Matt told him, obviously appalled (and having picked up that phrase from Jake, who had picked it up from Gordon and his band). “If you ain’t got any fuckin’ neighbors, you truck your ass over to some rich neighborhood in the city. They got shit like that in San Luis Obispo, don’t they? How about where the fuckin’ Nerdlys live? Send her out with fuckin’ Kelvin.”

“The Nerdlys don’t do Halloween either,” Jake said. “They don’t give out candy and they don’t send Kelvin out to trick or treat. I think it’s a Jewish thing, but I’m not really sure.”

“That’s fuckin’ appalling!” Matt declared. “Every fuckin’ kid in the United States of Fuckin’ America has the right and the obligation to extort candy from motherfuckers on Hallow-fuckin’-ween. It’s in the goddam constitution.”

“That is not in the constitution,” Jake told him.

“It’s fuckin’ freedom of religion, man!” Matt countered. “You need to take your kid out tonight. Nerdly too. Don’t make me call the fuckin’ child protection motherfuckers on your asses.”

“We would be recognized and mobbed,” Jake said. “We just got to a place where the media has forgotten about how Laura and I are getting divorced but still living together. It’s not gonna happen.”

“That’s what fuckin’ costumes are for!” Matt insisted. “It’s Halloween, dude! You dress up and mingle with the fuckin’ common people and no one knows who the fuck you are. Jake, you can’t let your fuckin’ daughter miss out on this rite of her childhood.”

Jake was beginning to see that Matt was taking this subject very seriously. This was not idle, stoned chit-chat, but something that Matt obviously felt deeply about. And he himself did, in fact, have some fond memories of trick or treating the neighborhood on Halloween when he was a child. His mother and father (usually smelling of that strange, burnt smell they sometimes smelled like—which was usually accompanied by the two of them being in a really good mood) would walk him from door to door while he was dressed like Superman or Speed Racer or Dracula and he would score weeks’ worth of candy (which his parents always examined carefully before he could eat it and then pilfered from).

“I’ll go with you,” Matt said. “Just let me get Kim in on this shit. She’ll come up with costumes for all of us—she’s in that business after all—and we’ll hit up Nerdly’s neighborhood and score your little girl some serious shit. Nerdly’s kid too. We just need to give his ass a call and tell him he’s going out with us.”

Jake was now catching the enthusiasm. He used the in-flight phone to call Laura and tell her the news: Caydee was going to dress up and trick or treat tonight.

“Are you stoned?” she asked. “You know you have to fly home from Orange county.”

“I am not stoned,” Jake assured her. “Matt is, but not me. He convinced me that by not taking Caydee out trick or treating, she is missing out on an important and vital cultural rite of passage.”

“Trick or treating?” she asked. She herself, as a Mormon raised child, had never been allowed to participate in the ritual and had no idea what she had missed. Though the Mormon church itself took no stance on participating in Halloween, her parents had. Halloween was evil, linked to Satan, and was not to be acknowledged.

“Trick or treating,” he confirmed. “Kim is going to come up with some costumes for Caydee and for us and we’re going to invade Nerdly’s neighborhood and score some candy.”

“You’re sure you’re not stoned or drunk?” she asked doubtfully.

“Absolutely sure,” he assured her.

“What if I don’t like what Kim wants me to dress as?” she asked.

“You do it anyway,” he said. “Kim is a professional.”

“I don’t want to look like I’m going to be performing in one of her pornos,” Laura said. “You know how modest I am.”

“I will pass that information on to her,” Jake promised.

Matt called Kim next. She was very enthusiastic about the plan. “I already know what I want to dress Caydee as! Teach too! The perfect redhead costumes!” she exclaimed. She refused to give any details, however. Matt did pass along Laura’s request that her costume be tasteful and as non-sexual as possible.

Jake then called the Nerdlys. Though it was forbidden for orthodox Jews to participate in gentile festivals like Halloween, neither of the Nerdlys were strictly orthodox. Though Sharon’s parents had not allowed her to trick or treat because they were a bit more orthodox than their daughter turned out to be, Nerdly had fond memories of his own about the ritual of childhood and had only not participated in the past because his son and wife had no concept of the practice and he had never thought to introduce them to it. Now, however, Kelvin had learned about it from his schoolmates and had been asking about this theoretical endless supply of candy for the past two weeks.

“We’re in,” Nerdly told him, after discussing the issue with his wife.

“Groovy,” Jake said. “Sunset is at 6:35. We’ll be over at 6:00.”

“What are we going to dress as?” Nerdly asked.

“Kim is in charge of that,” Jake said. “You wear whatever she tells you to.”

“I don’t want to look like a porn star,” Nerdly said.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Jake told him, quite honestly.

They landed at John Wayne Airport at 3:33 PM. Kim was waiting for them, several large suitcases in her possession. “I raided the wardrobe department at my main studio,” she told them excitedly. “I have something for everyone here. You’re going to love it.”

“No porno outfits, right?” Jake asked. Her main studio, after all, was in the business of filming pornographic videos, not documentaries or animal shows.

“No porno outfits,” she confirmed. She then considered a bit. “Well ... I mean, the outfits were used to make pornos, but are not pornographic in and of themselves.” She considered for another moment or two. “Except for Celia’s and mine. They are a bit risqué.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake asked. “How risqué?”

“They’re tastefully risqué,” Kim said. “Celia’s is perfect for her body type though. And I think she’ll like it.”

“What is it?” Matt asked, liking the thought of seeing that bitch he couldn’t stand (but still liked looking at and lusting over) dressed in some slutty clothes.

“You’ll find out when you see it,” Kim said. “I also brought lots of hair styling stuff and professional film makeup supplies. Caydee, Teach, Sharon, Celia, and you, Jake, are all going to need some work done.”

“Do we have enough time for all this?” Jake asked. “We won’t be at our house until close to five o’clock.”

“We’ll have time,” Kim said. “We’ll dress all of us at your house and then head over to the Nerdlys’ place and get them dressed.”

“Sounds good,” Jake said.

They roared into the sky and made the thirty-eight minute flight to SLO Regional. Jake drove everyone to the Kingsley home in his Navigator. After hugs and greetings, Kim went to work. She opened her suitcases and started the project with Celia.

“This is the most risqué of all the costumes,” Kim told the Amazonian built singer, “but it will be perfect for you, absolutely perfect—in more than one way. I could not have asked for a better subject for this one.”

“How risqué are we talking here?” Celia asked nervously. She knew, after all (and had enjoyed, on more than one occasion) what Kim’s primary business was.

“PG-13,” Kim told her. “Thank God it’s a warm night here.” She then pulled out a single piece of clothing that looked like a one-piece woman’s bathing suit. It was red on the top, strapless, gold in the middle, and blue on the bottom with white stars scattered geometrically throughout. It would show nearly all of Celia’s long legs and a good portion of the tops of her breasts, not to mention her bare shoulders and armpits.

Celia looked at it in her hands. “Is that ... Wonder Woman?” she asked.

“Fuckin’ A,” Kim told her. “You will be the most beautiful Wonder Woman of all time. Your body is absolutely perfect for it! You’ll blow Lynda Carter at her peak right out of the fuckin’ water! Here ... these go with it.” She pulled out two red knee-high boots with three inch heels and a pair of gold bracelets. There was also a rope lasso.

“Oh my God, that is fucking hot,” Jake said, nearly drooling. “You have to wear that, C.”

“Yeah,” said Laura, who was also nearly drooling, “and keep it on after we get home.”

Celia blushed a little. “Well ... I’ll at least try it on,” she said. “Did you actually use this costume in one of your movies?”

“Yes,” Kim said simply, “though the actress in the flick had bigger tits than you and wasn’t as tall. I still think it’ll work out though.”

“I haven’t seen that video,” Jake said.

“Wonder World,” Kim said. “One of our shorts, available on the website you have access to. It’s in the same series as the Wonder Twins, who do a lot more than just activate.”

“I will have to keep my eyeballs out for those two,” Jake said respectfully.

“I think you’ll like the Superman and Lois Lane and Lana Lang threesome too,” Kim advised. “There’s a good sixty-nine style analingus scene between the two chicks just before Superman plows them both.”

“In cape?” Laura asked.

“Of course,” Kim said with an eye roll. “What do you take me for? An amateur?”

Next was Laura. Kim pulled out a pale blue dress, a red button-up sweater, and brown lace-up boots that would go halfway to Laura’s knees when donned. Laura looked at this in confusion. “I don’t get it,” she said.

“Little Orphan Annie!” Kim said excitedly. “We just need to get some curlers in your hair and let them sit for a while.”

“Can you wear black panties with that, babe?” Jake asked, thinking already about a threesome with Orphan Annie and Wonder Woman later in the evening.

“If I’m wearing this, I’m not wearing panties at all,” she said slyly, already getting into the fantasy.

“That’s fuckin’ hot, Teach,” Celia said, imagining the possibilities herself. She could not wait to find out who Jake was going to be.

“Yeah,” Matt whispered so that only Kim could hear. “Fuckin’ hot.” She nodded to him, just as slyly.

Jake was the next to find out who he was going to be. He was handed a long red robe with a blue smock that went over it. For his feet, he was given sandals. To carry with him, he was given a staff with a Jewish star atop it. He looked at all of this and it took him a moment to realize who she wanted him to be. “Jesus Christ?” he asked.

“Exactly!” Kim said. “You have the perfect hair for it, especially since you haven’t cut it in a while.”

“I’ve been kind of busy,” he said.

“And I’m glad you have been,” Kim said. “We just need to put some fake facial hair on you and you’ll look just like Him.”

“Mmmm,” Laura said with a sexy smile. “I ain’t never had me no Messiah before.”

“I heard that JC and his Sunshine Band weren’t into that kinda shit,” said Matt, who was, for the first time in his life, actually wishing he could be Jake Kingsley for one night.

“I don’t think that even The Man Himself could have resisted this kind of temptation,” Jake said.

“We’re all going to hell if any of that fuckin’ bible shit is true,” Matt said, getting a good laugh.

“At least all our friends will be there,” Jake said, completely unconcerned for his immortal soul. If God did not approve of Jesus, Wonder Woman, and Orphan Annie threesomes that were all in good fun and good taste, then he didn’t want to have anything to do with the dude anyway.

“There is that to look forward to,” Matt agreed.

“All right now, Mattie,” she said, looking at her roommate/friend with benefits. “Your turn.” She then pulled nothing from the suitcase.

“What do you got for me?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “You’re going to go as Matt Tisdale.”

“What?” he asked. “That’s who the fuck I am.”

“Exactly,” Kim said with a smile. “We’re going to be trick or treating in an upper-class neighborhood full of snooty-ass WASP and Jewish families with young kids. What could I have come up with for you that would be scarier to them than Matt Tisdale, who is evil personified to such a demographic?”

He thought about this for a few moments and then smiled. “You know ... you’re right about that shit,” he said.

“Yep,” she said. “You tapped into my inner producer with this project. Now, let’s talk about me.” She reached into her suitcase and pulled out a slinky red miniskirt that would fall to her upper thighs, barely below her panties. With it was a short-haired black wig, a red garter, and five inch black heels.

“Damn, baby,” Matt said lustfully. “You’re gonna wear that shit?”

“I’m gonna wear this shit,” she confirmed.

“Who are you supposed to be though?” asked Celia.

“Betty Boop,” Kim said. “Classic cartoon sex kitten.”

“There’s Betty Boop porn?” Jake asked. Betty Boop had been in the daily comics during his childhood and had been one of his first sexual fantasies in life when had started approaching puberty at the age of 11.

“Of course there’s Betty Boop porn,” Kim said. “Rule 34 applies here.”

“Rule 34?” Jake asked. He had never heard this term before.

“Internet rules,” Kim said. “Rule 34 states that, if it exists, there is porn about it. A good part of my income relies on Rule 34.”

“Is there a specific part of your website that is dedicated to Rule 34 porn?” asked Celia. “Uh ... a friend of mine would want to know about it.”

Kim giggled. “Not currently,” she said. “Your ‘friend’ will just have to search out her kinks individually. You know? Disney porn, Wonder Woman porn, Three’s Company porn, shit like that.”

“Disney porn?” Jake asked, quite interested.

“It exists,” Kim said with a smile. “The Pocahontas, Captain Smith, and Little Mermaid threesome is quite popular. So is the Cinderella being forced to eat out her sisters scene. In any case, I will get my tech guys working on a Rule 34 area because that sounds like an awesome idea. Put it all in one place for easy browsing. Thanks for coming up with it for me.”

“Happy to help,” said Celia, who had a sudden urge to fire up Jake’s computer and browse for a bit.

But that was not to be. They still needed to get dressed and prepped for the evening. Kim broke out Caydee’s costume next. It was a multicolored long sleeved shirt, a pair of denim bib overalls, a pair of red socks with red sneakers and white laces, and a long, plastic butcher knife with fake blood stains on it.

“Is that ... Chuckie from Child’s Play?” asked Laura when she saw the getup.

“Yep,” Kim confirmed. “I am so happy that you just cut her hair. It’ll be perfect once I put a few fake slash marks on her face.”

“You have a Chuckie costume for a little girl in the wardrobe of your porno studio?” Jake asked carefully, feeling a little sick at the thought.

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” Kim said, just as appalled by the suggestion. “This one I got at the costume store, everything except the knife and the fake blood anyway—period porn and slasher porn you know. They’re a thing. Anyway, I bought Caydee’s and Kelvin’s costumes there. Only thirty bucks apiece, including the shoes. That’s why I called Teach and asked for Caydee’s sizes earlier.”

“Who Chuckie?” asked Caydee, who had been listening to the entire discussion but not understanding most of it.

“An evil possessed redheaded doll who kills people in a movie,” Jake told her.

“Caydee be Chuckie for trick and treat?” she asked. Laura and See-Ya had explained the concept of trick or treating to her earlier that day but she still was not convinced it was true. Peoples would just give her candy? Just for knocking on their door and being dressed up as something? That sounded like parental bullshit if she had ever heard it.

“That’s right, little girl,” Jake told her. “Kim came up with a great costume for you.”

“Caydee watch Chuckie movie?” she asked.

“Maybe in a few more years,” he said. “There’s such a thing as being too scary for little girls.”

“Awww,” she pouted.

She was placated, however, when Kim showed her a still picture from one of the Child’s Play movie posters. Her hair was the exact color of the character in the film. She was concerned that she might be asked to kill some peoples because she did not really want to do that, but when reassured that murder was not a part of the traditional trick and treat experience, got into things quite nicely. When her costume was put on her, she was presented as the most adorable murderous doll in the history of the world.

Kim worked on Laura’s hair, putting curlers in it to make it a curly mop and then worked on Jake’s face, putting a fake brown mustache and beard on him. She combed out Celia’s long black hair, making it fluffy and pronounced. She did the same to Caydee’s hair, but then tucked some of it up using bobby pins to make it look shorter than it really was. She applied the fake slash marks to the little girl’s face. She then donned her own costume and wig, leaving her legs bare and putting on a pair of black, slutty looking heels. She made a perfect Betty Boop. And Jake, Laura, and Matt were all drooling over the sexy Wonder Woman that Celia had been transformed into.

They all piled into Jake’s Navigator to make the fifteen minute drive to the Nerdly neighborhood up in the hills overlooking San Luis Obispo city.

“An interesting fact about Wonder Woman,” said Kim, who was doing a little drooling of her own over the Venezuelan superheroine as they made the trip.

“What’s that?” asked Celia, who was feeling sexy as hell and could feel that her thong panties were already wet beneath her slinky costume.

“William Marston, the creator of the Wonder Woman character, was married to a petite, attractive redhead named Elizabeth,” Kim said. “And the two of them were involved in a polyamorous relationship with a tall, Amazonian-type, brunette named Olive Byrne. Olive Byrne was the inspiration for the Wonder Woman character.”

“Are you making this shit up?” asked Matt who, like everyone else in the vehicle, knew that Jake, Laura, and Celia were involved in just such a polyamorous tripling.

“Not at all,” Kim said. “The three of them were together for more than a decade. Both of the women had children with him.”

“How long ago was this?” asked Laura, who was immediately fascinated with the story. “Like back in the fifties?”

“Much earlier,” Kim said. “Olive met the Marstons in the mid-twenties. She moved in with them in 1928 and she presumably became their lover shortly after that.”

“I didn’t know people did shit like that back then,” Matt said.

“There’s nothing new under the sun, Mattie,” she told him.

“How do you know so much about this?” Jake asked.

“I’ve done a ton of research on it since I randomly came across the information while I was web-surfing for new film ideas. I’ve got a writer working on a script for their story. I think it would make a great feature film.”

“I would watch it,” Celia said.

“Me too,” said Laura.

“Next time you visit Mattie’s place, I’ll show you some pictures I dug up of the three of them,” Kim said.

“Pictures of them in action?” Jake asked hopefully, his mind picturing images of grainy black and whites of a threesome with hairy bushes and full breasts.

“No,” she said, “not in action, just basic pictures. William is a very handsome man, and both Elizabeth and Olive are quite stunning. The resemblance of Olive to the modern day image of Wonder Woman is striking.”

“Are they all fuckin’ dead now?” asked Matt.

“Yes,” Kim said. “William died in the late 1940s, still fairly young.”

“The two bitches wore his ass out,” Matt said respectfully. “Be careful about that shit, Jake.”

“We take precautions against that,” Jake assured him with a smile.

“Olive and Elizabeth died more recently, in the early 1990s, just two years apart. They lived together 43 more years after William died. Olive was 86 when she passed. Elizabeth was 100.”

“That’s some shit,” Matt said. “You think they were still dyking out to the end?”

“I like to believe they were,” Kim told him, “but there is no documentation I could come up with to confirm such a thing.”

They arrived at the Nerdly house just as the sun was sinking in the western sky. All three Nerdlys exclaimed over the costumes their guests were wearing, though Matt’s costume had to be explained to them. Once they were given the concept of Matt Tisdale going out as Matt Tisdale, they declared Kim a genius of costume production.

“Brilliant,” Nerdly said. “That will shake up the neighbors like nothing else.”

“I’m looking forward to this,” said Sharon. “My parents never let me go trick or treating when I was a kid. They were just a little too orthodox for that.”

“My parents used to make me take Nerdly along with me and my friends,” Jake said with a chuckle. “Talk about a cock block.”

Nerdly looked surprised. “I thought you enjoyed my company,” he said, his face hurt.

“I do now,” Jake said. “You’re my best friend in the world after Laura and C, but back then you were a nuisance. You were a year and a half younger than me and I was forced to hang out with you in cool situations. It was a cock block. You with your big-ass glasses and your nerd laugh.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Nerdly said. “I’m sorry if my presence, appearance, and mannerisms inhibited your sexual connection with members of your peer demographic.”

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, Nerdly,” he said. “You are the reason I didn’t get to wet my weenie for the first time until I was eighteen and a senior. All your fault. Not my pathetic shyness at that awkward stage of adolescence.”

“At least you got to experience sexual congress with a willing female at eighteen,” Nerdly told him. “I did not get to experience the pleasure until I was twenty and we performed at the club for the first time.”

“Do you still remember that bitch you plowed the first time?” Matt asked him.

“Yes, I do,” Nerdly said, matter-of-factly. “She was a long-haired brunette with puffy lips, strawberry lipstick, large breasts with above average areolas, smaller than average nipples, and fishnet stockings that tore easily. Her hair was quite puffed out, as was the style back then. She had pearl earrings and a Christian cross necklace on. She smelled like an overapplication of cheap perfume. She tasted like bubble gum and cigarettes when she kissed me and she had a full growth of black pubic hair that stretched up toward her navel. Her vagina did smell quite pleasant though, as if she regularly engaged in bathing practices.”

“Ahhh, the eighties,” Jake said nostalgically, perfectly picturing, smelling, and tasting the description. He had a particular fondness for eighties chicks.

“I think we women should go back to the full bush,” Kim suggested. “What’s wrong with full bush? It’s a pain in the ass shaving down there all the time. We’re talking razor burn and staph infections down there on the cooter. Can’t we just keep it the way God intended?”

“I kind of like the shaved thing,” Jake said, “although full bush is not a deal breaker for me.”

“Do you keep a runway so you can display your natural hair color?” Laura asked Kim. She maintained such a runway because she knew that Jake and Celia both liked it.

“Naturally,” she said. “I’m a real blonde and fuckin’ proud of it. But maintaining that runway is kind of what makes it such a pain in the ass.”