She was young and beautiful - and about to kill someone.
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The story about two years. True for the most part, so too. Are the stories of my new book. The way I heard it if you'd like an autograph copy, I've set a few aside for fans of the podcast which you can pick up at micro dot com, slash book. If you don't care about my autograph than go to micro, dotcom, Slash book anyway. To find them surprise, the book is available pretty much anywhere books or sold Barnes and Noble Walmart targets. Books. A million hasn set of the place. Hudson has them Amazon, of course, but prices change all the time, so click around at micro, dot com to see who's got. What for
how much the reviews were all pretty much five star, very flattering: New York Times calls for the best seller. I think it would make a dandy Christmas present. People still say Dandi anymore, I don't know, but your copy awaits at micro com book. This is the way I heard it, high in the hills of a town without pity Auburn son slowly sets on a warm September evening as a young Starlets walked up the shoulder of the canyon road and onto the property of the big name in town. She was apprehensive. Understandably, partly because it was getting dark, partly because she was trespassing and partly because she was going to kill someone for the record. The starlets was not violence by nature, but Sport times call for desperate measures, the head of studio, effectiveness, fool without
These are common sense, had cut her out of the film that would have made her famous in the blink of an eye her long anticipated debut on the silver screen was reduced, a pile of worthless cellulite. On the cutting room floor, could she have called a jar? Could she have lodged a formal complaint with the studio? Now this betrayal could not be remedied with the hashtag and me to this was personal, and so the young starlit steeled herself for the task at hand, double checked the contents of her purse and approached the sprawling home of the biggest name in town five stories up the legendary icon looked down as the starlit approached her appearance was not exactly a surprise. Beautiful girls often came to this very spot, usually around sunset. This one, however, was a real looker. Twenty four flaxen hair Alabama
skin eyes, bluer than a Montana sky and a body that wooden quit, Oh yes, girls, like her, were drawn to this dress like Malta to flames pretty young things with stars in their eyes, happy to barter everything they had for the one thing they didn't. This one was more than welcome up here on the top floor of the legendary address.
Five stories down the starlit was smiling in spite of her dark purpose. It felt good to fight back. She recalled the role that launched her career, a small but a central part in a Broadway production of hamlet. It was her character who, at the kings, demand introduce the all important poisoned cop into the pivotal, seen enact five, a poison cup intended for hamlets but consumed accidentally by Gertrude, the kings, wife and hamlets mother. Oh yes, she remembered that performance very well. It was a performance worthy of an encore. But enough ruminating back to the task at hand. She knew the way and she knew her target was on the top floor and our minds. I she could see herself ascending each step carefully, one at a time up top the view would be breath.
The sun was now beneath the horizon, and the lights of tinsel town would be twinkling all the way to the Pacific, but she would not be distracted. Her role tonight was that of a cold blooded killer, and she would play the part to the best of our ability. She would betray nothing of her true intentions. She would simply wait till the moment was right and then She would show the biggest name in town what real power looked like the starlit check the contents of her purse, one more time and confirmed that everything was exactly where it should be. Then she began her careful climb up to the fifth story and delivered a performance worthy of an Oscar. Three days later, a hiker found the mangled body. Nearby ravine detectives were called, but you didn't have to be a hard boiled gum shoe or a sunset boulevard, Seamus to figure out who done it. The cops knew all
out the starlets, abrupt removal from thirteen women, her first and last major motion picture. They knew all about the financial difficulties that followed and the naked photographs for which he was paid to pose. But it was the contents of her purse that close the case moments after it was opened specifically a short note that red I'm afraid, I'm a coward, I'm sorry everything if I had done this a long time ago, it would have saved a lot of pain, and so the curtain fell on the final act of PIG at whistle. A gifted. Tourists, who left a promising stage career to become a famous movie star, ass. The only performance for which she's still remembered is the one She delivered on that warm September evening in nineteen thirty, two at a famous address on the rocky slopes of Mount Lee high in the hills of a town without pity.
It was there at the end of the Canyon road called Beechwood, the poor peg, her spirit, broken by empty promises and shattered dreams made good on her promise to kill someone by climbing the wrongs of a rickety ladder scrambling onto the top of the giant h and throwing herself off the Hollywood sign. It was, after all, the biggest name in town anyway, that's laggard
The story you just heard is true least the way I heard it. Thank you chuck Klausmeier for producing this podcast Matthew Zipkin. Thank you for hitting the buttons over here at one union recording studios. Thank you, gentle listener for listening and if you haven't subscribed- and you would prefer not to miss a new episode. Consider yourself officially invited to do that very thing. Talk to you next week.
Transcript generated on 2019-12-30.