22 October Y.D.A.U.
Is romantic love the ultimate jest, a mere phantasm of feeling that humans insist is utterly real and must be validated? What is it that draws two people into sexual embraces, a ferocious chemistry no one but they can sense? Odd couples, everywhere you look, no accounting for any of it, when it comes to love. But I do like to speculate, Darius, so when you suggested a coupling of Mario and Joelle, I thought, well, why NOT. It's a common enough theme in literature: beauty and the beast. Problem is, upon reflection, it is unclear to me which role these two will play when they hook up. You will have to read further and make up your own mind.
Mario Incandenza has been listening to an old cartridge of Madame Psychosis' 'Sixty Minutes More or Less' midnight talk show over at HmH. He finds himself restless, unsleepy as is often the case after an evening spent with Hal and the Moms, so instead of hiking over to the dormitory he dons his Bolex H64 Rex 5 tri-lensed digital camera and goes out in search of...entertainment. He heads downhill toward Ennett House, where even at this late hour there will be addicts smoking and regaling one another with gruesome tales of addiction and recoveries. Mario enjoys filming their antics and he will ponder these mysteries and question Hal about it in the morning.
Mario wants above all to meet Madame face to face, one on one, but he's scared. She is a beautiful star and Mario, well, Mario is a seriously damaged map. As he approaches Ennet House, where Joelle now lives as a recovering addict her own self, the modulated cultured voice of Mme Psychosis floats out of a window. Mario is immediately transfixed, listening, rapt.
Out of the corner of one eye, Mario spots a veiled woman standing near one of the low-slung windows. Slowly and silently the woman raises the double-hung pane and breathes in some fresh suburban Boston air. It is after curfew, 0130 hours perhaps. She notices the small gnomelike figure on the lawn. He is canted 50 degrees in her direction, clutching his turgid steel pole to avoid tipping over into the cool, damp grass that surrounds Ennet House.
Joelle has been listening to one of her own cartridges this evening and is nostalgic beyond all reason. She has steadily grown lonesome in her veiled sobriety. Like many cast-aside formerly gorgeous women, she devotes herself to lost causes to assuage not only her own pain but to offer solace to the suffering souls as yet unable to arise from their own mireful angst. For reasons I can't begin to imagine, Joelle has developed a thing for Don Gately, one of the dullest ever reformed drug addicts to live and work at Ennet House. You already know why I find Gately problematic. But Gately's away, communing with Himself's wraith; Gately small-h himself is deliriously sober in a local hospital, recovering from a GSW and unavailable for fun or lust. It may be Joelle's post-ovulatory progesterone hormones kicking in that have catapulted her into seduction mode, it may just be the balmy evening and the balmy breeze blowing ever so balmily across her veil, all that soft sensual music in the background, something from one of her shows maybe, Madame's, or perhaps it's the symbolism of the pole, and the young boy swaying behind it. She remembers that night when she preambled her show with these words: 'And Lo, for the Earth was empty of form, and void. And the darkness was all over the Face of the Deep. And We said: Look at that fucker Dance.'
She slips out the window and approaches Mario, who by now has realized he is indeed coming face to face and one on one with the Madame herself. She regards him with adoration and affection: it's the middle Incandenza son, igniting in her a lust she can almost taste. She wonders whether or not there might be a bit of temporal bliss to be found in those floppy arms just begging to flap themselves around her, Joelle. He is like a god to her. The God of Pole Dancing.
Mario finds himself suddenly and inexplicably kertwanged, watching Joelle approach as she places her small white hand on his steel pole, and as she slowly slithers around it, caressing it like it's her long-desired lover's unit.... Mario is unable to tear himself away and simultaneously is unable to comprehend what any of this means, yet he has the presence of mind to switch on the Bolex . He will watch and learn, later.
Madame Psychosis advances in a sort of trance. Her eyes are unfocused due to perhaps she may recently have been surreptiously abusing some substance, maybe a little homespun Bing, or at the very least something crystalline, who knows, and really, who cares! She massages the pole with one foot, runs one small white palm up and down its sleek cool surface and with the other hand she beckons Mario come closer. For his part Mario is experiencing an unusual tingling sensation in his corduroys, not like needing to pee exactly, in the out of bounds ticklish area below his belly button, but for once there is no tickling and no giggling but more of a tingle and a sigh, and...and ...a stiffening of his virginal unit, which in addition to his big brown eyes is the only other normal part of Mario's anatomy. He wonders, idly, will he need a second police lock to hold that up? or maybe to hold it in place? He will ask Lyle later.
Joelle has mesmerized him, a cobra engaged in a deadly game with prey. She can hear his erratic raspy breaths. Mario's completely helpless - he can't run - she strikes out and unsnaps his fly and his unit springs out, naked and free for the first time ever in his young life. Oh Darius, it is a sight for sore eyes! No one, not ever, has witnessed this actually first ever phenomenon, Mario Erectus! For his part he is utterly speechless with both fear and awe. After all here is his most precious idol, the great Madame Psychosis and she is in full, terrifying control. His unit throbs, his heart skips many beats. But when his heart remembers to beat it does so in thunderous, velcro-popping beats.
Joelle turns away abruptly and wraps her arms around Mario's steel pole, then leans back, slides first one slim thigh around it and languidly strokes the pole with her foot. Not once does she part the veil or allow it to slip off, revealing her mangled face. She must remain in control, a controlled slow burn of passion, and lust, and delayed gratification all cool unemotional sociopathic self-control designed to provide for maximum bliss. Poor BooBoo, who knows naught of these matters, is fraught with a new pain and is frightened beyond imagining.
At last, at last, Madame reaches out to touch Mario, forefinger to foreskin....he is instantly overcome with a million spasms all doubled over breathless with shock and excruciating ecstasy mingled with shame and panic. Eternity opens and explodes in a reverse kind of big bang as new universes fecundate before his mind's eye. He collapses, spent, unconscious at Joelle's feet. He lies in a puddle, not of piss, but of many years' worth of bottled up , unexpelled juices, soda-sweet and heavy-creamy, a khaki greenish tan tinge on the foamy vanilla ooze, lightly metallic scented, a busted cherry and rather shriveled not so much nuts as scoured out walnut shells, a super-millennial fizzie all warm and steamy staining his old corduroys and sliding off into the dewy grass.
Joelle snaps to. She crawls inside through the still open window. It is now 0145 hours. Time for her beauty sleep. Mario also sleeps, perhaps for the first time ever , breathing quite normally, even though he is quite horizontal sans his requisite 4 pillow props on the lawn outside Ennet House.
If perchance Himself as wraith was en route to visit Gately when he spotted the strange vignette of Joelle and Mario on the lawn below ETA and noticed the blinking light on the Bolex, he was surely convinced at last the true paternity of his second son.
Epilogue: I know, Darius, that you must be shaking your head in disbelief - like it couldn't have happened that way, both of them acting so out of character. Well, believe me when I tell you I have seen many things in my life - lust makes a fool out of everyone sooner or later, and anyway I have irrefutable proof. You see, when Mario finally pulled himself together (without anyone's help) he downloaded the digital recording of his first ever and memorable Millennial Fizzie onto a blank cartridge, just like Himself had done and taught him to do ... and from Joelle, well, Mario learned how to hide. I wonder: did Mario consult with Lyle later, and what did Lyle say?
So then, show me your proof, I can almost hear you thinking it. Fine. Recently I, Pandora, just happened to be browsing in a Boston area thrift store and found in a dusty bin a used and worn cartridge, which cartridge had a mostly scratched out strange symbol, depicting a police lock with a veil over it and on impulse I bought the thing for a dollar. I didn't know why. I just knew I had to have it... when I got home I watched it over and over again, but never again. Well, maybe I will watch it one last time...
...but I still have no idea: who is the Beast in this crazy love story?
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Click here for deleted scenes Deleted scenes - Mario's Millenial Fizzie
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