Angelina was not in a festive mood. She had only agreed to pose for the up-and-coming photographer due to a whimsical bet that had gone awry at the country club. Then there was that whole mess with some government guy wanting to speak with her about the legal status of her domestic help. And, perhaps most annoying of all, she had once again inadvertently glued her hand to the side of her head just as Pedro had arrived with a tray of cocktails.
Angelina: “Pedro, I’m in a bit of a pickle.”
Pedro: “Is there a strange man in your bed once again? No worries. I’ll find him something nice in the petty cash drawer and then have him escorted out the servants’ entrance.”
Angelina: “Oh, I had completely forgotten that I entertained last night, so please be a dear and make those arrangements shortly. I believe his name is name is Montpelier, although that might just be the bar where I found him. But no, my immediate issue is that I’ve had a mishap with some adhesive and now my drinking hand is bonded to my head. It’s so frustrating when this happens.”
Pedro: “Ah, I see that now. Well, we can attend to that momentarily. But before I have the gardener report to the main house, I should point out that these drinks are on the verge of getting warm, and you know how miffed you get when that happens. Perhaps you could use your other, non-drinking hand? Since we’re in a pinch?”
Angelina: “Are you insane? The other hand is my smoking hand and I’m not about to put this cigarette down unless Montpelier arises and is interested in Round Seven instead of the cash option.”
Pedro: “How horrid of me to suggest such a thing. Instead, perhaps you could just tilt your head back and make like a baby bird. I’ll pour the martini directly down your throat.”
Angelina: “Splendid!”
[Sounds of modified water-boarding fill the air, followed by a not-so-discreet belch. It’s hard to be lady-like when one is guzzling.]
Pedro: “All better now?”
Angelina: “Much. In fact, you’ve proven yourself so valuable during this time of personal crisis, perhaps you could support me in the alleviation of a few other dramas.”
Pedro: “I’m here to help you out with whatever you need, mainly because you pay me to do just that. It’s a basic economic principle. How can I assist you in a way that does not jeopardize my yearning need to flee this compound precisely at the end of my shift?”
Angelina: “There’s some horrid government man coming to make sure my employees are legal residents and I don’t know if-”
Pedro: “Say no more. Everyone on the staff has at least three sets of documentation. After all, your late husband, may he rest in peace after his mysterious fall from your bedroom balcony just minutes after the two of you had an intense conversation about infidelity, was a Republican. He prepared us all to be able to change our identities and beliefs by the hour. There shouldn’t be an issue with the horrid government man.”
Angelina: “Wonderful. And then there’s the matter of the horrid photographer who wants to take my picture for Vanity Unfair. I just can’t bear the thought of him hovering about until all of my limbs have liberty and mobility. Could you detain him for a bit until the gardener gets here with the hedge trimmers?”
Pedro: “Worry not. He’s out on the guest lanai right now, holding a rather large zoom lens in his lap and fiddling with the settings. I can assure you that such imagery has inspired me to perform great and noble acts of lusty pursuit. I believe I can keep him occupied.”
Angelina: “Oh? I guess I hadn’t noticed your team affiliation.”
Pedro: “It’s another of my many skill sets. Just ask Montpelier.”
Angelina: “Really? I didn’t realize that we were double-dipping. Wait, did your dipping take place during my dipping? What exactly happened last night?”
Pedro: “Rest assured that it was not a complete bacchanal. There was just this brief three-hour window when you were face down on the private beach, weakly singing nursery rhymes, and Monty went exploring a bit. A certain situation arose and I got my Christmas bonus a bit early.”
Angelina: “Well, then. It appears that you have things under control. Run take care of Vanity Man whilst I await the gardener. But before you go?”
Pedro: “Yes?”
Angelina: “I see that there are still two martinis on your tray. And Baby Bird needs another worm.”
Pedro: “Don’t we all, Miss Jolie.”
Previously published in “Crusty Pie” (just the first paragraph) and “Bonnywood Manor” (the extended remix). No changes made for this post. Side note to the classic-movie aficionados out there: My notes indicate that this photo is Mary Astor in a still from “The Maltese Falcon”, but now I don’t recall this scene. (I could very well be having a senior moment.) Anyone have some insight?
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
No info on Mary Astor, but I love that Angelina has her hand glued to the side of her head. With any luck, Pedro will glue her other hand to the falcon from Malta, Trump will think she’s an Egyptian sculpture and kick her out for being a foreigner, the Egyptians will be insulted and send a Go Team to kidnap the DT from his weekend golf course, his security team will celebrate, the Egyptians will realise that they can’t stand the orange glow and will sent him over to the Brits, and Angelina will be taking her drinks intravenously. The end. Now who wants the movie rights? 😉
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I want the movie rights. I want them desperately. This is pure gold and I’m quivering at the possibility of sharing this cinematic vision with the world. Do you have an agent? Because I don’t. Maybe we can come to some sort of clandestine agreement whilst sharing a glass of vino at an unobtrusive but delicious restaurant at a ski chalet in Montreux…
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How wonderful! I always wanted to make golden cinematic storyboards over glasses of vino in Montreux. I am French you know. And not that Swiss French. Real French. 😉
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Duly noted. Not Swiss, Real. And now I’m having slight palpitations as my grasp of the French language is probably Swiss by now, as it’s been a while since I spoke it with any real fortitude. This, of course, means nothing, as we can obviously conduct our negotiations in English, but still, you may throw something French out there that my two remaining brain cells cannot grasp with any coherency. I’m Italian, by the way. Not Swiss Italian. Why does Switzerland need four official languages, anyway? Is that why they always remain neutral in any international situation? Am I rambling now? I think I’m rambling… 😉
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Je suis ravi mon chere. 🙂 ❤
I agree that the four languages bit certainly gives them an international (and neutral) leg up. But I have always had a soft spot for Italians. Real ones. 😉
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I take it the photo was prior to Angelina’s pouty lip enhancement? It has been suggested that if one is in a plane wreck over an ocean, or on a boat that has issues of the watery kind – that the lips may be used as flotation devices. I admit I’ve not been a fan of Ms. Pitt er koff koff koff Jolie koff koff (I hate senior moments. I KNOW Brangelina is over and so done with) since she wrested that wimpy Brad person from the clutches of Jennifer. Because the latter made such a cute couple, while the former were on the really scary side. And Ms. Astor? Ah. I don’t know much about Ms. Astor, except her surname was once associated with a really upscale hotel or something..or was that the ASTORIA? Tomato/tomahhhto.
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Actually, on second perusal of the photo, that looks strangely like Sigourney Weaver – the Young Years.. Aside from the hair…
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Now see, you have me all invested in writing a survival story with the illustrious title of “Collagen Saved My Life!”. I’m sure it would be an international bestseller, at least until the lawyers caught up with me or I defaulted on my insurance premiums, the second of which could happen any day because there’s apparently no morality when it comes to the insurance-premium arena. Still and all, I think you and I should play the roles of Angelina and Brad in the “Collagen” extravaganza. I mean, why not? If Trump can get elected, anything is possible…
And yes, “Mary Astor” throws me, because the Astors were apparently super rich at one point (although this didn’t stop one of them from going down on the Titanic). I’m not sure what the connection between actress and rich might be, mainly because I’m too lazy to research the whole mess, so we’ll leave that door open for now…
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Mary Astor was a stage name – she wasn’t related to the Titanic Astors at all. Her real name was Lucile Langhanke. Quite a handle. 😉
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Hold up, Lynette. I’m already an ardent fan of yours, and now you let loose with some arcane classic-movie trivia, when such trivia speaks to my soul? I need a moment to compose myself… 😉
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Happy to give your soul a boost. 😉
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As soon as I heard her name was Angelina I knew this one would be risque. Every woman with the word Angel in her name that I have ever met the Angel referred to was Lucifer.
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I think I might have to agree with you. The obviously-named angels never seem to be quite that, whilst the true angels go by more discreet names…
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If one recalls that 2/3 of the angels in heaven ermmm “went south” it almost makes sense
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Hmm… Maltese Falcon is one of my favorites but I sure don’t recall that scene. Especially the bit with Pedro and the photographer. 😉
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Well, truth be told, as if truth can ever be told at Bonnywood, the Pedro/Photographer subplot only appears in the director’s cut of the movie. You know, the one that doesn’t exist…
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Hey Bri. RE-posted on twitter @trefology
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You are the sunshine of my life (that’s why I’ll always stay around)… 😉
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The thing is, I can actually HEAR Mary Astor saying those lines. I was giggling so hard I nearly spilled my tea on my keyboard…
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Oh, that’s a lovely compliment. I really do try to make these things as real as possible, despite the absurdity… 😉
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Unfortunately, I’m not a classic-movie aficionado but I did love this piece 🙂 it was wonderfully humorous 🙂
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Thank you kindly! I do have an odd obsession with old movies, but hopefully the humor overcomes that… 😉
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