Chapter 3

Los Angeles, California. November 30, 2008.

"May I see your invitations, please?"

"Invitations?" the tallest of the strange trio replied. "We don't need no stinking invitations!"

The two heavyset guards standing in front of the gate in the fence surrounding Marilyn Manson's Beverly Hills home exchanged frowns. The one on the right, Andy, was dressed as Frankenstein's Monster. His partner, Barney, was in a mummy outfit. Andy nodded at Barney and then turned back to the trio of men at the gate. "If you don't have invitations, you can't get in."

"I told you!" was the reply. "We don't need invitations!"

Barney grimaced as he looked over the three. I might not let these guys in even if they did have invitations, he thought. I've been watching them. They're not in costume and that's the theme of our employer's party tonight. Everyone standing around these guys is dressed properly and ready for the gathering, but they're not. They're also among the most suspicious people I've ever seen in two decades of working security for celebrities in Los Angeles, New York and everywhere in between. Something about them just gives me a bad vibe.

The three men were Caucasian and dressed well in pressed black T-shirts, jeans and garish plaid sports jackets. Other than that, they looked very dissimilar. The one who had spoken was tall and lean with a long face and thin blond hair. He wore a red coat and held an energy drink can in one hand. Barney had seen him take many sips from the drink while standing in the long line outside the mansion. The mummy guard dubbed this character "Stretch."

Stretch's first accomplice was a short fellow with features like a rodent. His nose and eyes were sharp and his black hair was knotted and thick. A horrible smell emitted from his body. He constantly took unwrapped beef jerky bits from his blue jacket's pockets and chewed on them, ignoring the awful effects this had on his image and breath. It was because of the stench that Barney thought of him as "Stinky".

The third man was of medium height but very obese with a dark brown flattop and beard. He grinned at the people around him, showing shark-like teeth. His lips, fingers and green coat were very greasy. Barney guessed that "Fatso" ate too much fried junk food and wiped his face on his sleeves.

Who are these guys? Barney wondered, looking them over again. He noticed some other common features among the trio now. The three moved rapidly, sometimes even jerking about and jogging in place when they stood at ease. In addition, they all wore unfamiliar eight-limbed crosses on pendants around their necks and had their coat pockets stuffed with pamphlets that read "Dianetics" at the top. Scientologist cult Cylons, Barney realized. We definitely don't need their scum.

"You may not get in without invitations," Andy informed the trio a third time.

"Hey!" Stretch shouted. "I told you —"

"Silence, brother Bean," Stretch's short odiferous associate said and then stepped forward. "Look, you officers are obviously very good at your jobs," Stinky hissed, looking from Barney to Andy and back again. "We appreciate that. My brothers and I forgot our invitations, but we have good reason to be here. This is Marilyn Manson's party, is it not?"

"Yes, but no one gets in without invitations," Barney said. He decided to taunt the suspects a little himself and see what happened. "Especially not people like you."

"What?" Stinky raised his eyebrows and noticed the guards' eyes on his pamphlets. "Oh, is it this?" He fingered his pendant. "You let Catherine Bell in a few minutes ago!"

"She had an invitation," said Andy. "You don't."

Catherine Bell is also one of the Scientologists I can tolerate, Barney added to himself. She's a very pleasant person, doesn't proselytize her beliefs unprompted and exudes no sinister feelings. These three on the other hand...

Fatso came close to the guards and said, "Look, guys, if you didn't know, Marilyn Manson is converting to Scientology. We're here to spread the word to his guests."

"Manson is converting to Scientology?" Andy directed raised eyebrows at Barney. "I haven't heard anything about that!"

"Me neither," Barney said. "Then again, we were only hired yesterday. You better call Mr. Fox."

Andy nodded and moved away from the trio, raising a radio to his lips. Barney kept his eyes on the three dubious men while his partner contacted their supervisor. The trio continued to make arguments for their permission to enter, punctuating their pronouncements with insults and rising fervor. Barney returned their words with only a blank stare. After a few minutes, the three stopped trying to bait him and looked at each other.

"Damn," Stretch, or Bean, said. "This pig is good."

"Maybe Jessica was right," whispered Stinky. "She said that Manson was a lost cause. The Chairman of Scientology told her we need to quit doing things like this."

"That moron needs to stop changing our procedures!" Fatso spat. He turned back to Barney. "Look, rent-a-cop, tell Manson we're here. He'll welcome us."

Barney glanced towards his partner, who was putting his radio back on his belt. "Well, Andy?"

"Mr. Fox told me just what to do with these guys," Andy said. "He knows them very well." The Frankenstein's Monster guard grinned and then addressed the suspicious men. "You may not enter the mansion. Our client told us not to admit you."

"We aren't going away!" Fatso declared. "You can't make us leave!"

"Fine," Andy said with a shrug. "If you want to stand out here and wait, you can do that. I have a feeling you will be waiting forever."

Tall Bean, stinky Bunce and Fatso looked at each other. After sighing, they turned and cantered off, grumbling amongst themselves. Andy watched them leave and then faced Barney. "Did those guys remind you of Roald Dahl at all?"

"Not a bit," Barney replied with a shrug. "I saw them more as the bad ghosts from those 'Casper' movies or maybe Donald Duck's nephews."

After sharing a chuckle with Barney, Andy waved at the next people in line. "Ah, Ms. Leah Remini. Welcome. Mr. Angelo Pagan, welcome to you as well. Barney and I have done security for your friend Jennifer Lopez several times, if you don't remember. We're working for Manson tonight. Can I see your invitations? Thank you. Please ignore the way we just treated your fellow Scientologists. We have cause to believe that not everyone in your church is a good person like the two of you are. Oh, you know those guys? You agree with my partner and me about them? Okay, thanks." The guards stepped aside and let the celebrity couple dressed as a zombie Fred and Wilma Flintstone pass.

Farther back in line, a frumpy brunette woman fidgeted, adjusting her glasses and smoothing her hair. "Do you think I make a good Daria?" she asked the blond weasel-faced werewolf standing beside her. Nadine Holliday wore a green sweater vest and black skirt. She and two other tabloid journalists were assigned to infiltrate Manson's party at the last minute. Her favorite angst-filled MTV character was the quickest costume Nadine could rustle up.

"You look great," Gary Parker, the werewolf, replied. He wore a full-length fur outfit with fangs and makeup instead of a mask. Gary was hoping that no celebrities or party security would recognize him from his TV appearances. Or maybe I don't care if they do, Gary thought with a shrug. If they throw me out, it will still be a decent story.

The third reporter in their party, Baxter Page, was a middle-aged hippie with long brown hair and beard. Outfitted in typical Goth attire like most of the crowd around them, Baxter had several disfiguring marks on his face. "You guys really should have dressed better," he told Nadine and Gary. "Do you want someone to know who we are?"

"You're not wearing a very good costume either," Gary pointed out.

"No, but I have on fake scars and piercings. Do you honestly think anyone is going to peg me as the perfect gentleman I usually am on the air? Damn it, you two!" Baxter waved his hands and then looked away, focusing on the crowd. "At least there should be many good stories here," he said. "You see that guy who just walked through the gates disguised as a mad scientist? That was Jack Nicholson."

"The original Joker?" Gary asked. He looked towards the mansion entrance and nodded. "Yeah, that was him."

"I spotted Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie farther back in line," Nadine said. "Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer were about twenty people ahead of us. If those two couples meet up tonight, it could be fun to watch the fireworks."

"I thought you didn't like recording celebrity troubles, Nadine," Gary said.

"I don't mind a good spat. I just don't want to be the one that starts it. I got into this business to win friends."

Fat chance of that in our line of work, Gary thought but did not say. He looked around the crowd, trying to spot more famous faces. Manson had made it known that he was collecting donations tonight for a campaign to overturn the recent ban on homosexual marriage in California. Thus a large number of celebrities and others were attending his gathering. One or two hundred people outside all together, Gary counted. Perhaps three hundred more if you add security and other hangers-on. There's got to be at least that number within the mansion too. I see a few of our colleagues on the street behind the fence, taking notes and snapping away with cameras. They won't be going inside the house, though. Nadine, Baxter and I will.

He removed the invitation from his pocket and showed it to the guards, who nodded and stepped out of his way. I wonder how our boss Ted Pinkerton got us invited here, Gary thought as he watched Baxter and Nadine admitted past the gate. It seemed almost too convenient. He also provided us concealable microphones and digital video recorders disguised as reflective buttons. I don't know where Mr. Pink acquired such technology. He's handed out spy gadgets before, but these are very sophisticated. I hope they work right.

"You think Lindsay Lohan will be here?" Gary asked Nadine, recalling a recent interview they had done with that actress.

"Probably not," Nadine answered. She smiled at some Goths who hummed "La, la, la, la, la" as they walked past her. "Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson are in Europe right now. We talked to Lindsay right before they left."

"Oh yeah," Gary recalled with a sigh. He regretted that he could not interrogate Lindsay further about her confessed bisexuality or her declining career.

"Keep your minds on what we're going to be doing here tonight," Baxter ordered his co-workers. "Don't go looking for specific people. Just wait and watch what happens. If we're lucky, we'll get something Ted will enjoy hearing. If not, at least we tried."

"If somebody recognizes us, be nice," Nadine suggested. "Tell them we're not on the job. Wait, do you think they'll believe that?"

"No, probably not," Baxter answered with a sigh. He looked around the courtyard and felt relieved that no one was paying attention to them.

I wonder if my allies in the Friendship society are here yet, Baxter thought. I called and warned Viceroy Doug Ramsay that we'd be coming. Our boss is also a Viceroy, so we couldn't get out of this assignment. Doug said he understood and had already dispatched his own infiltrators. Like us, they're charged to ascertain the current state of Marilyn Manson's girlfriend, actress Evan Rachel Wood. I doubt we'll be working with these other spies but I hope they at least won't work against us. Never mind, Baxter. Keep your eyes on the game.

Gesturing at Gary and Nadine to follow him, the hippie journalist headed towards the mansion's front door. His colleagues walked alongside, checking out faces and noting those they knew. Their hidden cameras and microphones were taping away. None of the three reporters saw the burly balding actor dressed as his "Sin City" character admitted to the party a few minutes after they entered the mansion.

"It's great to see you here," Barney said.

"Thank you," Mickey Rourke replied. "It's great to be seen."

Inside the mansion, Jodi Lee Nichols and Asher Stravjan were already in place amongst the crowd. There were almost as many Goths and other costumed people inside as outside. All were enjoying themselves while music played and drinks got served. The music was mostly that of the mansion's owner, of course. Marilyn Manson had also inserted songs by Nine Inch Nails, KISS, the Sisters of Mercy and other Goth metal groups. Jodi Lee didn't often listen to such tunes but now she was finding herself liking them. The raw vibe and emotion of the beat sounded in her brain and the words sparked memories of wonderful things she had done with guys and girls. I wish I had known there was so much sex in Goth rock before, Jodi Lee thought. Maybe I would have had a better opinion of it.

"Hey!" a very drunk guest said, beaming at Jodi Lee and Asher. "Jodie Foster! Clint Eastwood! I thought I saw you both leave five minutes ago!"

Jodi Lee raised her eyebrows and looked at Asher. Should we correct this guy that we're only lookalikes? Jodi Lee asked in sign language

No, the albino mute Asher answered in the same. It does not matter if he thinks we are people we are not. Jodi Lee shrugged and nodded at the drunk as he stumbled off. "I thought there would be drugs here," she said, looking around. "Aren't Goths supposed to be into heroin and cocaine?"

You expect them to explore such habits in the open? Those habits are more rumor than reality, Jodi Lee. I thought you said you were going to drop your preconceived notions.

"Sorry," Jodi Lee replied. She looked at herself in a mirror on the wall. The Australian agent was dressed as a fantasy Amazon with her dark copper hair piled into a beehive and makeup accenting her sharp freckled face. A brown imitation leather bustier and skirt completed the ensemble. Asher had disguised himself as a grinning ghoul, a blue-skinned undead cannibal with ragged clothes and yellow fangs. He waved his clawed hands at people who complimented him on his costume.

"Far out, man," a moping Goth said as he drifted by.

Thank you, Asher signed in response. He did not care that most of the guests could not interpret his movements. Have you seen Friend Evan yet? Asher asked Jodi Lee.

"No," the other Friendship agent said. Jodi Lee sipped her virgin martini. "I keep looking for her trademark blonde hair and then I remember that like everyone else here she's probably hiding herself."

I concur. Perhaps we should split up and look for her separately.

"All right. Why don't you see if some of these people can understand you? I've heard there are disabled Goths and homosexual ones also. Maybe you can make a new friend with benefits or two tonight."

I am too professional for that. I could show these people some juggling or acrobatics, though, if it would not attract too much attention.

"Do that," Jodi Lee suggested. I don't think you'll have much problem drawing attention here, she added to herself. I see quite a few celebrities around us exhibiting shocking behavior. That old man in the mad scientist outfit is Jack Nicholson, one of the greatest actors to ever play the Joker and the Wolf Man. He's got two twenty-something Goth girls on his arms and they both look extremely intoxicated. Do I have to speculate what Jack plans to do with those girls?

I also see many celebrity couples dancing and making out in the room, homo- and heterosexual. There's Ellen DeGeneres embracing Portia de Rossi and there's Jennifer Aniston waltzing with John Mayer. The former couple is dressed as the witches Willow and Tara from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and the latter couple is impersonating the young stars of that new vampire film "Twilight". And there's George Takei with his gay partner. They're kissing and costumed as Sulu and Wesley Crusher from "Star Trek". I also see Wanda Sykes over there dressed as Elvira hugging some other black woman dressed in drag as Drizzt the dark elf. Hmm.

Wait a second. That couple over there disguised as Devil Ned and Warrior Angel Maude Flanders. The chubby blonde and the rangy man with the mustache standing near the front door. Is that Candace Cameron and her hockey player husband? No way, it can't be. Candace Cameron is a famous evangelical Christian. What would she be doing at a party hosted by a well-known Satanist high priest?

Maybe she was part of the Friendship secret society like Manson, Jodi Lee conjectured. Members of the Friendship were amazingly tolerant of other religions. They knew that religion was supposed to be about freedom and satisfaction, not conversion or control. The Friendship welcomed and learned from diversity. They admitted followers of nearly all philosophies in support of this idea, rejecting only the prejudiced. Holding freedom of religion as an inalienable right, the Friendship's leaders advised their subordinates to live the good in their personal beliefs and to respect those of others. Most Friends followed such suggestions. They knew from history that religions grew in tolerant climates. They shrunk, then destabilized if their environment filled with conceit and fear.

Even if Candace wasn't a Friend, though, her religion was no reason to peg her as a bigot. Many Christians throughout history practiced great openness, Jodi Lee reflected. The Puritans were proud sexual beings, although they only wanted affection to occur within the bounds of marriage and never in public. There were also several Roman and medieval Christian sects that were into free love and swinging. Jesus Christ himself hung out with adulterers and prostitutes. Just because Candace's brother Kirk was a modern stuck-up Christian idiot was not cause to assume she was as well.

On impulse, Jodi Lee waved her hands in a secret Friendship gesture at the Flanders couple. Maude signed back and Jodi Lee smiled, happy she was right.

Asher tapped Jodi Lee on the shoulder and she turned back to her Gypsy companion. We work alone, Asher signed. Viceroy Ramsay said not to make this too complicated.

"Sorry," Jodi Lee said. "I'll try to remember our mission. You work the crowd. I'll find our host." Asher nodded in agreement and moved away.

It did not take Jodi Lee long to locate Marilyn Manson. The rock star was one of the few people at the party dressed as themselves. He feels his usual appearance is costume enough, Jodi Lee guessed as she looked upon Manson's pale face, long black hair and leather jacket and pants. A top hat, tails and cane were also part of his outfit, she noticed, so maybe he was in costume after all. Jodi Lee pegged him as Willy Wonka. Manson seemed very laissez-faire, pleased that his party was successful and exchanging greetings with the guests.

I think Asher was right, Jodi Lee said to herself. The man is more agreeable than his public image. Yes, he disturbs me a little, but that's okay.

A few security guards in Goth attire were around Manson, including a supervisor in a fox mask so fantastic it looked like his real face. Guests were walking up and saying hello. Two young people also stood nearby. One was a pale-skinned girl in a black dress with a plunging neckline and a long black wig. The other was a dark-haired twenty-something man who looked like he was part of some Hell's Angels biker gang.

"Great party tonight," actor David Duchovny was telling Manson when Jodi Lee approached. He was costumed as his "X-Files" character Mulder and had his wife Tea Leoni as Scully on his arm. "I'm glad I got out of rehab soon enough to be here."

"This is for the feast of Saint Andrew," Manson replied. "He's a patron of those who suffer from gout and sore throats, fishermen and the unmarried. He traveled much of the ancient world to spread the Gospels and charity under threats and persecution. I felt it appropriate to hold a fundraiser party against the recent Proposition 8 in his name."

"I thought you were a Satanist," Tea Leoni said.

"That doesn't mean I can't also revere other religions." Manson told the couple to enjoy the party and then turned back to the young man standing with him. "Thanks. You were saying?"

"My brother Dane is very sorry," the biker youth replied. "He got involved with the wrong people and brought them to preach to you without seeking your prior blessing. He recognizes that you do not appreciate such people and that you do not want to become a member of our religion. Dane wants you to know that he is now distancing himself from the Feshbachs and those like them, as many Scientologists already have. Dane could not be here to apologize himself, as he is in St. Louis sorting through some issues. Thus our sister Erika asked me to stop by."

"Does Erika want to see me again?" the Goth girl with Manson asked. Jodi Lee blinked, recognizing her cherubic face and large blue eyes. Evan Rachel Wood, she thought. There you are.

"She does," the biker youth answered Evan, "provided that you want to see her. Erika is also busy tonight, but as you may know, she asked many of her friends to stop by and make donations to your cause. She wants to ensure you bear no ill will towards our entire religion because of the actions of a few of its members."

"Erika doesn't need to worry about that," Manson said. "I'm fine with Scientology in general. I just don't want to be in it myself and I want it to stop its abusive practices. You know what I'm speaking of, right?"

After receiving a nod, Manson continued. "You can advise Erika I'm aware of her involvement with a group that wants to reform your church. My own church is willing to support that movement's goals. Our creed's founder, Anton LaVey, was a great influence on Scientology's founder and our religions may need to work together again. Also, please tell Erika I asked you to make this gesture in front of her."

The biker youth smiled and returned the gesture after frowning at Manson's Satanic endorsements. "I will do that."

"Please inform Erika I want to see her again soon," Evan said. "Thank you for coming. Brando, right?"

"Yes," Brando Christensen said. "I'm Dane's twin brother, four minutes older. Erika and I will be flying to join the rest of our family in St. Louis tomorrow."

"When she gets back to L.A., please make sure she calls me," Evan requested. "Also thank her for putting the word out about our party. I've seen Catherine Bell here tonight, along with Kirstie Alley, Jason Lee and Leah Remini and her husband. Is there anyone else planning on stopping by?"

"John Travolta could not make it but he wanted me to give you this." Brando handed a check to Manson and chuckled. "John in particular supports gay rights."

"Too bad your church didn't support them during the Proposition 8 vote process," Manson said. "Thank John for me. I'll add this to the stash."

"Don't mention it to too many people, okay?" Brando asked. "Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to enjoy the party a little."

"Go forth, young whippersnapper!" Manson waved and smiled. "Have a good time!" Brando thanked him and walked off.

I didn't know Friend Erika would be working independent of Viceroy Ramsay tonight, Jodi Lee reflected on the conversation she'd just heard. Well, I suppose what she's doing is for the best. That girl could be a Viceroy herself with all the influence she commands. I wonder why they haven't raised her yet. Maybe they're waiting for an appropriate moment. The Scientologist reformers are strong, yet the traditionalists are greater in number and influence. The church leaders must be afraid of a schism right now, which is why they aren't forcing one by expelling all the liberals. I don't blame them for their fear. I saw some Anonymous anti-Scientology protesters outside.

"Brando should tell Erika I'm fine," Evan said to Manson. "I wish she was here, though."

"All things in time, my dear," Manson replied, patting her on the shoulder. "Now you go mingle, okay? You're hanging around me too much. I want you to wean yourself off me a bit."

"If you say so." Evan smiled at Manson and moved away.

Jodi Lee followed Evan, wanting to stay close to her. She seems okay, thought the Australian agent. I'd better make sure, though. I hope nothing terrible is going to happen at this party tonight. Jodi Lee wove her way around a trio dressed like a Goth hippie, a werewolf and the MTV character Daria as well as a burly balding man dressed in a gray trench coat and a multitude of bandages who was eyeing her. She smiled at the latter, recognizing actor Mickey Rourke. Then she turned from him and walked on, nodding at other guests she passed.

Evan eventually reached the bar. She sat on a stool and ordered a drink from the satyr-costumed bartender. Jodi Lee finished her martini and then set the empty glass on the counter. "Give me another, please," she ordered. "Virgin. Shaken, not stirred."

"Coming right up, Ms. Foster," the bartender replied.

"Excuse me," a voice said. Jodi Lee turned to see Evan Rachel Wood directing a smile and a raised glass towards her. "You're not really Jodie Foster, are you?"

"No." Jodi Lee shook her head and extended her hand. "Grace Packer. I'm from Australia." Evan's surprise had sparked Jodi Lee's improvisation skills. Jodi Lee hoped her relative wouldn't mind her name being used.

"I didn't think you were Jodie Foster. You look about fifteen years younger with more freckles. Are you related to James Packer, the famous Australian rich man?"

"Fourth cousin once removed." It was a lie, but Jodi Lee didn't think Evan would bother tracing it. In reality, her family was a bit more closely related to the Packers than she had said. "I dropped off a donation earlier." That was the truth.

"Thank you," Evan said. She followed her words with a Friendship secret gesture. Jodi Lee returned the gesture, judging that it would not harm her cover. Evan's smile widened. "I'm Evan Rachel Wood, the actress."

"I recognized you. I think you did a great job in 'The Life Before Her Eyes'."

"Thanks. It was a terrific movie. So you're dressed as Kayleigh."

"Who?"

"Kayleigh is a character from the geek comic 'Dork Tower'. You look just like her with your hair like that. I'm the other main female character, Gilly the Perky Goth."

"Oh. Well, it wasn't really my intention to dress as anyone specific. Someone else picked this costume. I don't even know who you're talking about."

"Kayleigh's an uptight shopaholic who's also a role-playing gamer," a voice at Jodi Lee's elbow said. The Australian agent turned and saw a brown-haired man with average features dressed as Commissioner Gordon from the recent "Batman" films. "Kayleigh looks down on the gaming hobby but then gets enthusiastic about it the first time she plays. She kills several orcs and a turbonium dragon."

"Turbonium dragon?" Jodi Lee repeated, gaping.

"More like turbonium bitch!" Evan screeched.

"Sorry to jump in," Gordon said. "Nathan Foulger, producer." He introduced the red-haired woman in the Batgirl costume beside him. "This is my daughter Barbara ... I mean, my girlfriend, Alicia Witt."

"One night only, Nathan," Alicia replied. "Hello, Evan. It's great to see you again."

"Alicia!" Evan said, beaming as she and Alicia clasped hands. "How long has it been? Did Erika ask you to attend this party too?"

"No, it was Nathan. We broke up two weeks ago and this is our final date. Erika did want me to say hello, though. She learned of your situation with her brother Dane the day before yesterday and wanted me to let you know he's okay now."

"Brando already told Manson and me," Evan said. "Are you and the Commish gonna be here for a while?"

"We are," Nathan answered. "This party looks like fun."

"Fun is number one," Alicia quoted her breakout film's tagline with a smirk.

"Well, I'd love to talk to you both again later," Evan told them. "Right now, though, I'm sort of occupied." She glanced towards Jodi Lee.

"See you in an hour or so then, little child," Alicia said, pecking Evan on the forehead. "I definitely want to renew old acquaintances. Come along, Nathan."

"Yes, my darling." Her boyfriend hurried to catch up as Alicia moved away.

Jodi Lee picked up on Evan's cue. She had already observed several couples moving out of the mansion's main gathering areas towards the adjoining guest rooms. She also knew Evan's orientation but did not want to let on that she knew. "You're lesbian?"

"Bisexual," Evan corrected. "I prefer women, though. I've been with more of them than I have men. You?"

"The same," Jodi Lee said. So Evan wants to seduce me, she thought. Okay, I suppose I'll allow it. I've used this as a spy tactic before many times. Sex is one of the best ways to connect with a person and I did want Evan when we knew each other at Viceroy Ramsay's club long ago. I was right that she wouldn't remember me from back then.

"Good. So I broke up with my boyfriend recently and I'm looking for a stranger tonight. Interested?"

Jodi Lee nodded but indicated with her expression that she didn't want to take things too fast. "Your boyfriend was our host Marilyn Manson?"