Chapter 18

A little before six, Joe, Lindy, Stuart, Henry, Brit and Johanna arrived at the Hollywood High auditorium with a bunch of youngsters obviously playing shirts and skins in the half court of the one basket, an older man with a whistle hanging from a chain around his neck watching.

“What’s this?” asked Henry, setting down the equipment he carried. They all carried some equipment.

“I’ll take care of it,” Brit grinned and hopped over to the coach.

Everyone could see the lascivious grin on the man’s face watching the pale punk beauty approach him.

“One of your victims?” Joe asked Johanna.

“Nope, but she’s always been a terrible flirt.”

The coach blew his whistle. “To the showers guys.”

A lot of mutterings, but the youngsters obeyed, some grabbing their shirts before disappearing into the locker room.

Some whispers between Brit and the coach, a kiss on his cheek and a pinch to his groin area suggested an addition to their collection. Brit caught Johanna’s eyes and gestured her over.

“Ah well,” Johanna chuckled. “See you in a bit.”

Joe followed her, “Keys,” he explained.

“Keys,” he repeated to Brit.

“But I need them” she said, so Joe followed the weird parade to behind the auditorium stage and the larger supply closet and once she figured out the key, she handed them back to him.

“We’ll need to get in there soon,” Joe reminded her.

“We won’t be long.”

And with Brit’s skills and seeing her naked with Johanna’s tits exposed as well sucking her, the coach didn’t last long, Johanna filming him spend onto his thigh, making sure he saw that only penis and thigh were visible.

Once dressed, Brit asked the coach, “Help us with that big round table?”

“Of course,” he smiled.

As soon as they delivered it onto the stage, he scampered to the locker room to check on his boys.

“Perfect,” Henry grinned.

By seven, being consummate actors and not prima donnas, everyone arrived and Henry assigned them their seats. Joe helped set up the four cameras in the middle, each on mini stands, Henry directing him watching the monitor with its four quadrants. After discussions between Stuart and Henry, they decided against the camera capturing the entire table because too many would be faced away from it.

“First,” Henry began once everything looked right, “You don’t need to worry about the cameras. I know it shouldn’t matter with your experience but you know it does. They’re strictly for me and Joe, the script writer. Wave your hand Joe.” Joe did. “He’s also Joey in the film. It’ll give us a chance to go through the script again actually hearing it, making notes and changes as necessary.

“Second, I have grouped you according to who you will mostly be with in the movie. Again its not something to worry about, to replace any of you, but to mostly see the dynamics. I’m not one for chemistry, in fact I prefer a more I guess naturalistic approach, how people in the real world just happen to be together, not hired for like a chorus line. That’s not to say I didn’t make choices regarding your looks, along with your voice and of course your talent, but it was more on an individual basis.

“Third, some of you received new scripts when you arrived. These have new scenes in them written by Joe which we didn’t have when we sent the scripts. You can thank Connie, my amazing assistant, along with Joe for highlighting your lines. And Carl? You’re welcome.”

Carl, the actor bad at cold readings, hadn’t got any new lines. He laughed, knowing his weakness.

“Anything else, Connie?”

Connie had arrived closer to 7 having had to pick up an actor whose car had problems. She stood and smiled. “I’d like to thank Mitch for his vision backing this film even with an unproven director, and for hiring me,” she chuckled.

“You’re welcome,” Mitch leaned forward at the table, smiling and blushing.

“Oh there’s another thing,” Henry interrupted. “Especially for those doing voice work. There’s no need to lean into the mic. They’re condensers and will pick up your voices just fine.”

“Sorry,” said Mitch.

“I should have said,” Henry shrugged.

Henry settled back in his seat and Connie continued. “Like I was saying, Henry’s an unproven director but that’s not to say he’s inexperienced. Since high school he’s directed award winning films, experimental, but quite good, including those in college which our scriptwriter Joe wrote. As you’ve most likely noticed, Joe’s quite talented too. Like too many directors with great talent and little opportunity, Henry’s been relegated to commercials these past few years, which, for what he had to work with, including inexperienced models, he’s done quite well. That is to say, he’s good with getting the best work out of actors, and that too goes back to his earliest films. What I’m saying is, especially some of you more experienced actors, many of whom I know, keep your mind open to this man and his ability to create a fine film, and even to get the best out of you. For me, helping him negotiate the jungle of Hollywood, I’ve found him to be as confident, intelligent, respectful and professional as any young director I’ve worked with. I can honestly say it’s been a privilege getting to work with him.”

“Thanks for reading my script so well,” Henry smirked. “But seriously, Connie, it’s been a privilege for me as well. Lord knows I’d have been lost without you. Thanks Mitch for hiring her.”

Mitch nodded.

“Okay, how about we read this thing?” He walked onto the stage and sat beside Joe, reading business.

Many of the actors knew their lines, including Joe and Lindy and of course Carl, and just used the script to keep track. Though not at performance intensity, they all read persuasively, Brit the most persuasive, stealing every scene she was in, getting the most laughs and the most reaction when she’s nearly killed. Joe had actually had Ariel killed in the graphic novel, but both Henry and Lindy persuaded him to save her. The movie, even before Brit had been hired, would have sagged too much in her absence.

The actors applauded themselves or the script after nearly two hours of reading. “Great job,” Henry approved. “You have your call sheets, and I’ll be sure to let you know if anything changes. We should remain on schedule, but shit happens.”

“There’s sandwiches and soda for everyone,” Connie announced. “And good job.”

She had beer too, but thought it best not to announce it.

Johanna pulled out her old acoustic guitar and began playing, sitting on the edge of the stage, Brit coming to sit beside her and feeding her sandwich and beer to everyone’s amusement. Getting there, Brit had to negotiate through actors praising her work, more than one of them hoping to converse more, hoping to hit on her, but she preferred one person and settled next to her. More actors came up, Johanna giving them the stink eye if they persisted.

Another person Brit didn’t mind the company sat beside her with his sandwich and beer. She and Joe exchanged smiles. Lindy sat next to Johanna.

“Well I’m off,” Henry told them a bit later mostly addressing Lindy. “Have to get up fucking early. You coming?”

“I’m good,” Lindy said, showing him the bottled water she was drinking.

“See you Chubby,” said Brit, Henry giving her the finger. “You wish.”

He did of course, and Lindy too. Holly would have to do, and for the next week most likely. He found the thought strangely calming.

“You guys want to get high?” Lindy asked.

“Of course,” said Johanna.

“Mind if I invite Connie along?” Joe asked, the ladies reacting by giving each other curious glances.

“Sure,” said Lindy.

“Let’s go to my place,” Johanna offered. “The hoi polloi are on vacation.”

“Really?” Brit squeaked.

“Why the fuck not?” Johanna growled.

“Cool.”

Joe went up to Connie filling the empty ice cooler with empty bottles. They gazed at each other affectionately, as much as they could do with company around. “We’re going to get high with Brit and Johnny. Want to come?”

“I need to finish up.”

“We’ll help.”

“Okay.”

The table and chairs put away, the four helped Connie collect empties and sandwich packages for the garbage bag, everyone pretty much done and most people gone, especially when Johanna stopped playing. They herded the strays out and Joe gave Brit the keys to lock up. Connie had connected the actor she’d saved with a ride with someone she knew lived near him earlier.

Johanna gave Joe the address, but he managed to follow them to the gated mansion she lived at, she leading them to the back entrance, the service entrance, or in her case the servant’s entrance, Joe driving Connie’s car with Connie in the back and Lindy beside him.

“Holy shit,” said Joe, looking at the back of the hacienda style mansion.

“Used to be Hollywood royalty,” Connie recognized it. “Got bought out by some real estate tycoon in the fifties.”

“You can toss the shit in the garbage and recycle bin,” Johanna let Connie know. Two large bins received the remnants of the reading. Johanna opened the back gate manually, Brit taking her place in the driver’s seat of the old VW, switching back when she closed the gate behind her. They even had a back entrance to the huge garage which at least opened automatically, Joe parking beside Johanna.

“Holy shit,” said Joe looking at the several old classics and contemporary luxury cars.

“What my dad used to take care of and what my brother takes care of now,” Johanna growled.

“I think that Bugatti used to be owned by the former owners,” said Connie.

“Probably,” Johanna muttered. “The old patriarch of the family probably bought it for a song.” She opened a mundane side door and they walked into a modest entryway with a coat closet and attached shelves, the lower one with some boots and what looked like a valet cap sitting alone atop a higher one.

“Servants quarters,” said Johanna. They heard rap coming from down a hall of doors. “My brother must be home. Doors on the right are just storage. I think they used them for the lowest servants but there’s no windows and shit. Hey Gi,” she said at the open door. “What you doing here with the owners gone? Oh hey Em. Never mind. I thought we’d take advantage of the owners’ absence.”

“Bring up some fresh sheets,” Joe heard.

“Lazy bitch. Yeah alright.”

Brit poked her head in. “Hey Gi.”

“Brit. How’d it go?”

“Pretty awesome actually.”

“We’re going to head up, but if you want your door closed...” Johanna offered.

“No one else’s around so leave it open. Martha cooked up a big pot of stew before she left. Clean up after since it’s just us.”

“Yeah we ate but maybe later. I’ll leave you guys to get back to it,” Johanna chuckled.

The group walked on to the next door, Johanna opening it. “My room.”

The room was roomy with an unmade double bed, a couple dressers and a desk in front of the window with a laptop on it. In the corner rested an upright bass on a stand. She even had a sink near the door. Posters on the wall depicted bassists in action, from Esmeralda Spalding to Flea. Joe noticed she had a couple Minneapolis bassists, Greg Norton from Husker Du and Tommy Stinson from the Replacements.

“Very nice,” said Joe, having been invited in.

“Yeah, they redid the rooms since they didn’t need an army of servants anymore,” Johanna explained, dropping her bag on the bed as did Brit. “Emma’s got the next room, she’s like the maid, and Martha’s got like a suite with her husband Frank who does the gardening and their two kids, kind of like a house within a house. Let me grab some linens and put them in the dumbwaiter for the second floor.

They gave her room to exit, Brit taking her guitar, and walked down towards the end of the living quarters where she stopped at one of the doors on the right and came out with an arm full of sheets. “Washer/dryer’s in there. They even got one of those dry cleaner presses. Pretty well vented too.”

Past the corridor the space opened up into a sitting room with a door leading outside, a large LED screen attached to the wall, a component system and a bunch of DVDs and CDs beneath. Across from it, Johanna opened a panel and placed the linen in it and closed it. “I’ll bring it up when it’s needed,” she said.

She pointed to a metal door with a window that swung. “Kitchen. Come on.” She led them through a door which, on the other side, blended into the wall. A strip of dark wood panel molding hid the door knob on the other side, which she demonstrated, pulling out a small portion and twisting. “Can’t have the guests see how the other half lives,” she growled a chuckle. “This is the music room.”

“I can see,” said Joe, a black grand piano taking a lot of space. A few chairs sat vacant for some not existent audience, all the padding, along with the rest of the furniture had Spanish old world tapestry for upholstery.

“Yeah, they had me drag that big ass bass out to entertain guests when I was a kid. Prodigy,” she shrugged. “Actually Dad dragged it out for me usually.”

“You still play it?” Joe asked.

“Yeah. Mellows me out. They used to have a harpsichord but I guess it was too quiet or precious or something. I used to like jamming on it. Let’s go to the smoking room.”

The back wall of the music room, at least to Joe, actually the front wall considering the entrance to the mansion was in that direction, ended in an open corridor. Johanna gestured to a door to the right. “Theater, for watching movies. The problem with having a big ass garage is the view, solved by having a room meant to get dark.”

She opened a door to the left. “Smoking room.”

“Looks more like a library,” Joe countered. Books lined the walls all the way up to the high ceiling, with one of those ladders on a runner to reach the ones up high. Near the center of the room a huge dictionary rested on a table built for it. In front of it, around a dark wood coffee table, a variety of seating: a couple armchairs, a long couch and a loveseat had the same sort of tapestries as had the music room for their upholstery. A beautiful and probably exorbitantly expensive Persian rug with a pinkish hue covered the floor of the sitting area. Even the big thrown clay, shiny glazed ashtray Johanna pulled from a cabinet looked beautiful and expensive.

“Yeah that too,” Johanna responded to Joe’s suggestion of the space being a library.

She sat on the loveseat, Brit joining her. Joe sat across from them on the sofa, Connie and Lindy sitting at his sides. Johanna lit a cigarette and pushed her Zippo lighter across to Lindy who lit up the fat joint.

“Oh shit, you guys probably want something to drink,” Johanna realized.

“What about that fancy ass champagne?” Brit bounced.

“Why the fuck not,” Johanna laughed. “Be right back.”

“I’ll help with the glasses,” Brit volunteered.

Joe stood up with them, and having had the joint passed to him he took a hit and passed it to Connie before wandering around the library. The books on top seemed to have matching old fashioned binding, at least per section and sometimes continuing to the next. He climbed the ladder to investigate one of the continuous ones, pulling out a book.

“What is it, Joe?” Connie asked, smoke coming from her mouth when she talked.

“Some special fancy edition Encyclopedia Britannica. At least they’re not fronts.” He moved over a couple sections. “These are all like first editions from a specific publisher, late 19th century. I’ve never heard of any of the writers.”

“So it is for effect.”

“Seems like.”

He climbed down to where the bindings were no longer uniform. “More contemporary first editions: Stephen King.” He moved to a middle height, where groups matched within the section. “Here we go. Henry Miller,” he chuckled. “Maybe first edition hardbound in the states. Hemmingway. Faulkner. Very cool.”

“What about Henry Miller?” Lindy asked handing him the joint.

“Maybe we should wait for Jo and Brit.”

“I have more.”

“Okay.” He toked and she waited to take it to Connie also perusing the library. He went back up to Henry Miller and pulled out Tropic of Cancer and handed it to Lindy. “He was considered pornographic and could only publish in France I think. When he came out in the states it was like paperbacks? So like these would be when he was somewhat approved or something. Probably a special edition with these matching spines.”

“I see what you mean,” Lindy laughed. “He’s like describing pussy juice as wall paper paste.”

“Yep. They were like worried about Joyce and him talking about pissing and the whole long monolog of Molly at the end of Ulysses, but Henry Miller was a whole other thing.”

“No shit. You think they’d mind if I borrowed it?”

“I doubt they’d notice,” said Johanna entering the library with a bucket of ice, a dark bottle inside of it. Brit followed with slim fluted champagne glasses.

“Should I be the man and open it up?” Joe asked.

“Sure,” said Johanna, setting down the bucket and taking the joint, about a quarter left.

“I have more,” said Lindy and started a new joint.

“Dom Perignon. Nice,” Joe commented.

Johanna shrugged.

Popping the cork sounded right, a soft exhale, and Joe poured the bubbly liquid into the glasses.

“To Joe for writing a great movie,” said Connie.

“Good one Connie,” Lindy grinned.

“To Joe,” the other two said.

“To ... uhm ... me,” said Joe.

The laugh stopped the ladies from drinking a moment.

“Wow, this is really good,” Joe commented.

“I guess you get what you pay for,” Johanna responded.

“Or good taste is expensive,” Brit added.

When the second joint finished and Johanna poured the last of the champagne, everyone with half full glasses, she spoke in a snooty manner, “Let us retire to the master bedroom ladies, gentleman, shall we?”

Brit giggled.

“Shall we take the steps or would the old lady prefer the elevator.”

“Be nice Jo,” said Joe.

“With as high as these ceilings are, I wouldn’t mind taking the lift,” Lindy said.

“The lift it is then,” Johanna proclaimed.

They followed Johanna to the gilded elevator for a slow ride one floor. The whole time, Connie and Johanna stared at each other, a challenge.

The master bedroom ended up being huge, opulent and ridiculously feminine, with a vast canopy bed, lacquered antique dressers, a huge mirror on an extra broad vanity, frilly pink curtains matching the draping on the canopy. “I take it the master of the house doesn’t sleep in the master bedroom,” Joe realized.

“Not since he got caught with my mom and the mistress kicked his butt out. The mistress is the oldest daughter of the old patriarch, the sons ended up flakes and the daughter married a conniving asshole like her father. But it’s always her money that made him. And her days at female boarding schools like the one in Switzerland where the family all went to the youngest daughter’s graduation as an excuse for a European vacation got her interested in the fairer sex which she prefers, though she’s bisexual enough to conceive a brood. And no, unlike her randy husband hitting on me like its automatic, and Em too who let the mistress know, she’s never invited me into this bed, nor would I be interested,” the last addressed to Connie.

“Joe invited me,” Connie defended herself.

“Don’t worry about her,” said Lindy before kissing Johanna.

Brit was more dramatic, shoving Joe onto the bed and straddling him before the kisses.

“Join us however you want,” Johanna told Connie before continuing the kisses with Lindy and beginning to strip her, Lindy stripping Johanna. By the time they were naked and Johanna coaxed Lindy onto the bed to explore Lindy’s body, rediscovering it from the first and only time before, Brit, riding the bulge in Joe’s pants, stripped off her shirt and leaned forward for Joe to undo her bra, meanwhile beginning to unbutton his shirt. Both were impatient with her unbuttoning and Joe did it quicker and soon they displayed their naked torsos to each other, both enjoying the view. But her rocking against that bulge made her want more of it, to have what made it inside her, and soon her hands went to work the pants off, and Joe did the same with hers, and they had to pause their groin grinding for her to pull off everything in the way of Joe’s cock, and to peel away her cloth defenses, and once done, she quieted the sway of his cock with her hand, guiding the head against her damp slit, wetting it there and finally sending it deep.

“Oh fuck Brit, you feel so good around my cock.”

“And you feel great opening me up with that handsome cock of yours.”

His hands went up to take hold of her young, pale, c cup boobs, both soft and resilient, while she leaned forward a little, her hands also on his chest, feeling a delicious firmness, not pumped up but just right, masculine, and began a slow up and down motion, relishing the sweet friction his lengthy cock provided, her eyes closing to get the full appreciation. His remained open relishing the view of her.

Beside them, Johanna continued her exploration, not coincidentally also creating pleasure for her lover. She paused and found Connie at the end of the bed loosening her clothing to get to her nipples and pussy. “There’s a toy box under the bed,” Johanna informed the older woman.

Connie found restraints and implements giving pain which didn’t suit her nor did she think would it suit Joe or Lindy. Blindfolds might have been fun for some other time, but the bed was full of naked pulchritude which everyone on it obviously enjoyed. One of the reasons Connie just didn’t take the availability of Joe’s mouth was his obvious lustful appreciation of Brit’s young, pale body, and Connie certainly couldn’t blame him. Butt plugs? The mistress must have enjoyed anal, and with the several harnesses probably having her cunt filled as well. Connie showed Johanna a lengthy dildo about Joe sized.

“Not for me, and maybe later for Lindy,” Johanna replied to the gesture.

Connie set it aside and stripped off her clothing. “Not bad,” Johanna noticed. Connie used some KY to slick it and pushed it inside her, but still kept looking. A narrower dildo took her interest. “Your girlfriend into anal?”

“Nope,” Johanna replied. “Maybe Joe?”

Connie laughed while Johanna went back to her explorations and pleasuring, closing in on the main event of sucking Lindy’s quim to orgasm. Connie’s laugh took on an evil tone, and she set the slim fake cock aside along with a harness. It would fit the Joe sized phallus as well for when either Lindy or Brit or maybe both would be available. Meanwhile, after pushing the box back beneath the bed, she knelt at the end of the bed in the space between the two sets of lovers, watching them while fucking herself with the Joe substitute.

Climaxing began happening, first Brit riding Joe’s cock wildly, then Joe gripping Brit’s hips and fucking rapidly up into her and then finishing up with Lindy being clit sucked into oblivion by Johanna.

As soon as Joe slipped from Brit’s pussy, Connie saw her opportunity, setting aside the dildo and straddling Joe’s mouth. “Let’s get him hard again Brit,” she grinned.

“Okay,” Brit grinned back. “For an old lady you have a hot body.”

“Thanks,” Connie moaned, Joe already on the attack. She was close enough for Joe not to need much more oral, although Joe decided to go into teasing mode, the fucker. But it did give Connie some ability of concentration showing her technique to Brit, and surprisingly Brit had her own tricks, but after Joe finally let her cum, Connie finally got to show Brit the piece de resistance, sending Joe’s cock into her throat.

“Oh wow,” Brit exclaimed, impressed.

“I think he’s ready,” Connie chuckled, her voice a little roughened by the penetration. She moved off his mouth. “Time for our stud to fuck you.”

“Good idea,” Brit giggled and laid on her back, close enough to touch her lover in a similar position, it being Lindy’s turn to explore. Joe moved between Brit’s legs which lifted and embraced his thighs while Connie guided his cock back into Brit’s pussy.

Connie knew the second round would go longer for Joe, and with some help sucking Brit’s amazing tits, would most likely bring Brit more than one more orgasm. Joe kept his thrusts hard and steady, quickening when Brit’s movements and vocalized pleasure revealed her next cum approaching. With its arrival, Joe keeping the pace before slowing for Brit to somewhat recover, Connie began attending to him, fingers playing with his balls but mostly, KY coated, working into his anus. She’d done that before and it tended to intensify Joe’s pleasure, but she planned for it to get to an altogether new level.

She heard his mewl of disappointment when she stopped her digital attention to his backside in order to put on the strap on and insert the slim dildo, which had a nice configuration at the back end, almost a clip like insertion with a phalange deep enough to rub against her g spot, another rubbing her clit. She made sure to lube those too, along with the shaft.

Starting with a third finger added to her digital intrusion into Joe’s fundament, she replaced them with the slightly bulged tip of the fake cock, carefully following his steady movement when passing through his sphincter.

“What the fuck,” Joe moaned.

“You invited me,” Connie laughed and pushed deeper.

“Go with it Joe,” said Lindy, Johanna tapping her shoulder so she’d notice.

And he did, the weirdness becoming something else, something intense. “Did you just get thicker?” Brit moaned.

The audience chuckled, the ones involved getting lost in it, even Connie, finding the phalanges remarkably effective, and just the act of it, of actually penetrating her lover, adding to the physical pleasure.

The rhythm of fucking and being fucked became Joe’s domain, Connie doing some thrusting when his ass rose to create more impact, but mostly Joe determined the ins and outs so to speak.

The intensity overwhelmed everyone, especially Joe, his orgasm certainly enhanced by the crazy pressure within his rectum, and as he pressed into Brit and undulated with each ejaculation, it seemed to be the last bit to send Brit over, and Connie, also close, pushed deep and grinded out her own orgasm.

“Hop on my face, Lin,” Johanna murmured. “I think we both need to cum.”

Lindy moved her body around, her mouth remaining on Johanna’s pussy, a few licks and sucks sending the Italian girl over, Johanna returning the favor a few minutes later, this time getting the audience.

“What’s next,” Brit giggled.

“I think I’m out for the moment,” said Joe. “Toilet?”

Johanna pointed.

Connie handed him the dirtied dildo for him to wash. He chuckled and shook his head and disappeared with it through the bathroom door.

“There’s plenty of cocks available,” Connie offered.

“No thanks,” said Johanna, getting up and fetching her champagne. The others followed her.

“It seems there’s only one pussy that needs to be fucked,” said Connie looking at Lindy.

“What about you?” Brit asked.

“I kind of fucked myself while you guys were busy,” Connie admitted.

“I suppose I could put on one of those strap-ons,” Brit considered.

“You should clean out all that nasty semen first,” Johanna suggested.

“Oh yeah,” Brit grinned. “Maybe Joe could help.”

“Maybe you should wait,” Johanna held her enthusiastic lover back.

“I suppose.” When they heard the toilet flush, Brit bounded over to the door and knocked.

“Give me a couple minutes,” she heard Joe say.

“Let me know when I can come in,” she shouted back.

“Okay.”

She waited pouting while the others pulled out the toy box and chuckled over it. When he told her she could come in, she went over to grab his champagne flute and brought it in with her.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a thanking kiss as well.

They both finished the tepid liquid and set the glasses aside.

“Jo suggested I clean out your nasty sperm and I thought you could help?”

“You’re safe, right?”

“Totally. You’re the first to go bareback and I’ve been on the pill since forever.”

“I don’t know if I can figure out this shower.”

“Yeah, the bath looks easier and it’s got one of those hand held thingies.”

“I could probably use a soak,” Joe agreed.

“You okay?”

“Just a little remnant of the weirdness,” he answered, gesturing to the subject drying on a hand towel. “Luckily it’s pretty thin and Connie seemed to have greased things up well.”

They climbed into the tub. “You first,” said Brit, and he lifted his ass up for her, his head low. She wetted a washcloth, soaped it and gingerly washed his anus, pushing in a little.

“How’s it look?” Joe asked.

“A little red maybe but not too bad.”

“Good.”

She rinsed out the cloth, keeping it dripping to wash away the soap, her other hand reaching between his thighs and pulling on his half hard cock. “You’re a horny one, aren’t you?” he chuckled