Chapter 7 - Murphy's Law

Murphys Law states, "what ever CAN go wrong, WILL go wrong." Murphy and I had been friends for quite awhile now. We'd go for drinks, dinner, hell, we were inseparable after I decided not to follow in my father's footsteps and go to Med School. When my father and I exited the movie theater after watching Raiders of the Lost Ark, I had made my decision on what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I was gonna make movies. My father ignored my plea that day, thinking it was just a kids pipe dream. Boy, if he would have only known. With a very calm and silent irritation, my father started excepting that I would not be attending Chapel Hill or Wake Forest to continue my education. I wasnt a very good student to begin with. I had been blessed with an above average IQ, but cursed with the plague that is sweeping the nation, ADHD, learning disabilities and all the other lame excuses for a kid to be labeled, abnormal. When I did have a chance to do well, upon returning to public school after being shifted from boarding school to boarding school, I wasted it by spending my time writing and designing an underground newspaper. It was a way I felt to channel the anger of that Generation X founding generation. We were pissed about something. Looking back, I cant remember why. My sister had finished up the Preppy generation where beer drinking consumed the weekends with occasional ganja use thrown in. With our generation the "Ganj" and Alcohol were a prerequisite and LSD and Mushrooms were the drug of choice. Desert Storm was going on, OJ Simpson was killing his wife, the murder rate in our small town was up 30 percent and our school was a 'firearm on property' away from metal detectors. My newspaper made fun of all this including critiquing the revolutionary alternative music coming in. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Sound garden and Mother Love Bone had just penetrated the radio airplay and little knew how big it would become. With my opinion obviously not the Voice of a whole generation, I would throw in the school gossip to keep people interested. There columns on who was fucking whom; where the parties were; who was dating and breaking up with who and who was fucking whom again, of course. These little columns were the ones that would have people begging me for a copy every Friday afternoon. At the height of the papers popularity and about the same time we published the brackets for the 65 man drinking championship to take place that summer, an assistant principal would acquire a copy of my debacle of a periodical. With heavy interrogation of students, the principal, (already having a hard on for me,) found me as the prime suspect. He pulled me out of Spanish class and searched my book bag. In it, he would find the master copy of the latest issue. That was all he needed.

The first time I met Murphy was in that principals office with my parents sitting next to me. My father had to leave work, canceling all his afternoon appointments, which was an absolute no-no in his book unless somebody was dying. What he didnt realize is that there was death-taking place. My chance to attend med school. The principal without blinking an eye suspended me for a whopping ten days. How fitting You were only allowed to miss nine days, before you would flunk out of high school. This punishment was also the record for the school as the biggest suspension given outside of the alcohol, drug and firearm policies of the NC Board of Education Procedures. (There were of course no Debauchery Style Newspaper actions in that book, so I was free game.) All that for a harmless newspaper? I suppose the principal handing out my punishment was not pleased about the joke I made about him in my in school column and maybe thats why there was such a vendetta. Who knows? As embarrassing as it was, Murphy, my parents and I walked off the school grounds and I could not help but try and forget that I had just become Class of 94 instead of my proposed 93 alumnus status.

Then Murphy and I had a falling out and parted ways for a couple of weeks, as members of my school began protesting the harsh punishment bestowed on me and staged small rallies on the freedom of speech and press. They pasted banners, signs, and flyers that read Save Garrick. Save our Rights, all over the walls and lockers. Then, with a petition signed by almost 700 classmates and a school board meeting in my favor, I was released from my ten day suspension and allowed to return to school, one day shy of the flunking out deadline, leaving me only one thing left to do. Not miss another day. Of course my paper was banned from the school grounds. There was such a demand for the return of it, that of course being the idiot that I was, I continued to do it. Only I was smarter this time, and distributed it in McDonalds parking lot on Friday nights. So needless to say, I managed to graduate, but my grades reflected my actual work in the books. I had done all the cool things at all the wrong times. If there is a positive twist on the situation, I had at least built a legacy that is still talked about as of today.

Here are a couple of covers of the infamous newspaper.

After graduation night, Murphy and I were friends again. With my post high school future looking grim for a four-year college right out, I knew I had to hit the books at the local community college. Despite my fathers belief, I considered turning it around and actually working toward a four-year degree followed by med school at a North Carolina college.

Then Fucking Murphy. In the class of 1990, beyond my group of friends knowledge, there was a group of guys who had an enterprise shaping up, or should I say, shaping out. They were running marijuana cross-country from San Diego and bringing it to our little town. The police were aware of the amount that was coming in and after a string of events; they were all caught two years after they had started it. Two of my friends actually worked for one of the guys involved, (in one of his legit businesses,) three months before the big bust. This led all of us to end up partying together after the work and school were done. We had no idea that they had been put on surveillance and been getting tracked. We just enjoyed hanging out at their house, because we had still not left the teat of our parents casa. When they were busted we were shocked, but really did not think much about it. They had just been friends for the moment anyway. A month after their trials began, the police were baffled that the same amount of drugs had been pouring into our town.

They must have missed something, they thought.

Of course We had inherited the business. They had seen us on surveillance. We were the masterminds behind the whole operation. It was the kids fresh out of high school too dumb to go to any college, but smart enough to import pounds and pounds of weed from the West Coast and distributed to all the masses in our shit town.

I did not even smoke pot. I hated it. I wouldnt know how to sell it if it were legal, but before long, I had become Joe Pesci in the movie, Casino and I am not exaggerating. There was a police officer waiting for me outside of work and following me wherever I went. I went on a date one night and they pulled us over after leaving the movie theater, searched my car with dogs and claimed I had been drinking, just so they could escort my date home in a police car, (ruining any chances for a second one.) Every time I left school they would follow me home. If I left a friends, they would pull me over, search the car with dogs, give me a Breathalyzer and completely harass me to the point of complete frustration. After a fabricated charge of a concealed weapon for a pocket knife in a camping pack, a DWI where I even passed the blood test, and a Larceny charge over a handicap placard that I never knew was under my seat, (all in a week,) my father had disowned me. He believed the polices ploy that I was the drug kingpin so he told me that if I was going to Los Angeles, that was the time to do it. He drove me out there, handed me a wad of money and told me good luck. I was ashamed and baffled about what had happened, but looking on the Brightside, I was in Los Angeles. I had a chance to make it all right. I needed a handful of electives and I was shooting for UCLA. I was going to spare my dad any more money and not apply until my California residency came up. That was the least I could do. I dropped Dad off at the airport and spent two tanks of gas driving through every city in Los Angeles County, studying my new home with a smile on my face. With the top down on my prized Jeep and the sun in my face, I thought of the films I was going to make. I thought of how lucky I was despite Murphys presence in those last months of my hometown career.

But hey, there was no more Murphy, police, newspapers, court dates It was me alone in the big city and another chance at greatness, I mumbled passing the Beverly Hills Hotel.

Two weeks later, my Jeep was stolen from the secured parking lot of my apartment complex and I never saw it again. Murphy had found me. We were now blood brothers. He would shadow me from that moment until this very day.

PRESENT DAY

I hand Jon the business proposal for my video plans for him to deliver the dossier to the Hot Investor.

I am going to see her the day after tomorrow, Jon assured me. I again emphasized the importance of not being pushy. We parted ways. I could not help but feel relieved almost anxious about the endeavor I was about to embark on. Maybe Murphy had gotten sick of my shit since I had settled down a little and made my self a two year plan. Maybe he needed a new friend to push around. He had been almost non-existent in the past three weeks. Maybe he had become bored of making my life miserable. If that was the case, I can't say Id miss him all that much even after all these years together.

The Day after Tomorrow came...... A car struck Jon on his bike when it ran a red light at an intersection.

*Footnote: When I departed for LA and my friends disbarred soon after. The very cop that had me pegged as the drug kingpin, went undercover and caught his drug importers a year later. To everybodys surprise, none of us were involved. It took over ten years, a private investigator, thousands of dollars, and two lawsuits to get an apology and my fabricated papers displaying the background of my life expunged of the false reports. (My background check had prevented me from six job opportunities in LA.) The only positive that came out of that situation was, I had proven to my parents that I had not been hiding any truths. I had been right all along.

Chapter 6 - The Hot Investor

So everybody back at Smut Headquarters in Charlotte are stoked about my movie plans. We have tried to keep it on the down low for one simple reason. AEBN has said they would love to fund the movie, but in that lies the double edged sword because if we would go to the big guys we would get our movie made, but our goal to be a profitable business would be crushed under the corporate sixteen wheeler. We would make a couple hundred bucks and the movie, its rights, and everything involved in it would be theirs. That is why we are seeking outside funds in the first place; so that we have leverage on the amount we sell it for, right? If I became desperate a year down the road Id jump under the truck. For now, I still have pride. My friend and soon to be business partner, Jon, who I trust immensely had taken a real interest in my endeavor. When I began the gig at AEBN, we immediately hit it off. We shared the same interests with the exception of music. He listened to the Eels religiously. I would just assume press on my eyes for six hours than to listen to the Eels. Mark Everett has a voice like finger nails scraping down a four-story chalkboard. Despite that, we gelled. He started to tell me how about a friend of his that may have the means to help me and she loved porn, smut and all the debauchery that comes along with it. Jon and her were close. He brought this up to me a couple of times. I listened but didnt really react to it at first, due to my training in this sort of talk. I have spent years and years surrounded by bullshitters and dead beats. I was on the theory that about 15f will do intentions in people are actually carried out. Ive always been a bullshitter as well. Ill stretched the truth if needed and Ill save a friend with a little white lie occasionally, but you will never hear me talk about doing something and not do it, (without at least attempting to.) Nor will you ever catch me look you in your eye and tell you I will do something and NOT do it. To make a long story short, I keep my guard up when somebody tells me they can do things or they know, a friend of a friend. Nine times out of ten, its smoke. With Jon, there seemed to be a little fire. He was persistent and from what I could tell followed through on his ventures. He was determined to put his friend and I in the same room together. I began to believe him and became curious. He was actually stoked on being a part of this. In all honesty, he had done more in a couple of weeks, than any of the sales guys we had done in six months. He had actually scored me a tangible in the flesh lead. I told him if this deal could be sealed, he would get ten percent of profits on top of a quick cash check on principal photography day. Unfortunately, in the real world, people have to work and live, so its not easy just to get people together with out plans and calls. It takes time and I had plenty of it. I was patient. I still searched other leads during the time, but Jon just kept talking about this girl.

Do you have any pictures of her, so I can match a name with a face, I finally asked.
You can go to my profile on Xpeeps or My Space and look her up, he replied. (Of course. My Space Imagine that.)

I grazed his profile and found her. I had heard nothing but good things about her for three weeks; I had to see what she was all about. This girl was beautiful. I mean, wow. I dont know if I was intimidated at first sight or just relieved at what I saw. It turned out that Jon had failed to tell me she had a little girl, which made her triple cool in my book. I was blown away. Shes totally hot, and she may be interested in helping me?

Jon, I love you man, I rejoiced silently. This would be the coolest outcome a desperate guy could ever ask for. We could meet up. Have a drink. Talk on the same level. I could lay out the plan for her. No bullshittin. No kissing ass. No graphs. No projected annual earnings. No red tape. Simply, a look youll make your money back. That is a guarantee.

I thought how it would be if she stayed on the set with us and saw how we were making the masterpiece with no pressure at all that some schmuck, fat business man pushing fifty would follow me around asking obscure questions like: When do I get my blow job? This would be the greatest scenario in the quest for adult film breakout. Young, hip artists doing their thing, having a good time and making some money on the back end To think, all this from a guy who only knows my reputation from a couple of smut films and my work ethic at AEBN. I could not let him down. He had put too much faith in me.

Jon promised to get us together. I told him there was not rush. We had until mid-May. I took the liberty of giving him my business plan for the movie.

"Give this to her first. Let her look it over. I dont want her to feel like were pushing, because we are not. By all means, its her money. Her investment. I want her to want to do it. Not feel muscled into it," I explained. If she likes it, then well make a date for all of us to meet.

Jon agreed nicely, even after repeating my spill three times while both our hands were on the business plan, with Jon waiting patiently for me to release it. He walked out. I sat for a moment. Exhaled

I thought, my God. This was the first relaxing moment I've had during this whole ordeal.

Maybe Just Maybe.

Chapter 5 - Vindicated by Myspace

So there's this little thing on the Internet in the past that I have made fun of. Called it childish B.S. A self-indulgent attempt to bring attention to yourself. Called it as bad as having a website about yourself when you have no product to sell or are not some kind of known person. Presently, they call this virus, "My Space." I was doing a television show down in Florida and some guy signed me up for it, because he said it would be a good way for the cast and crew to interact. I had always used the telephone or email... Did not need any kind of "space" to do it. I completely ignored our account until an old ex-girlfriend somehow found me on it. I had no profile picture. No bullshit stuff about me... Nothing. I got the message through my email. I had not talked to her in awhile. Then another friend from out west found me. I thought it to be OK for the moment. Then my Fianc found it and did not take well to an ex being a friend on the profile thingy. She quickly cancelled the account. At that point, I was OK with it. I had not really paid that close attention to it anyway. To me, it was just another log in and password to keep up with. Three months later, my web guru showed me his profile. He had snazzed it up tremendously and told me that it was a good way to advertise a little. He had already scored a little work off of it. I had also improved my web skills quite a bit so I made another attempt at the My Space thing. I too snazzed my profile up, making links to my company site, requested a friend from out west and let it rest. The next time I logged on, I had found every friend I ever had out west and suddenly the My Space idea was becoming a little cool. Then week after week, I began to find friends, I went to high school with. I had yet to score any business off of it, but at this point I did not really mind. It was a nice way to find out what all the "old school" people of my past life were doing. Myspace I began to say, was a place to catch up with somebody without having to actually call them. Although real conversation is much better than any email in the virtual world, the Myspace messages get you in and get you out, because some of the people you reacquaint with are people you would fall short of conversation with on the phone, in ten minutes. I have 57 friends... That would be some minutes on my cell even if I limited my conversation to three minutes apiece. So anyway, you email once to say hey, then you reply a hand full of times and then you dont correspond for five months and then Repeat process with everybody you find.

That was my Myspace experience until last Thursday night when I found, my mentor, who I consider pound for pound one of my best friends of all time. Our interests were exactly the same. When we were working together the production was flawless. When we were playing we were entertainment enough. We just got it. I have spent years fighting between committing to a life as his right hand man and staying on the East Coast with my woman, making my own way. The decision I had to make at least four times had never really given me resolve. I had just been forced to accept it. In a perfect world, I could have him as a friend and business partner while being able to have my life with her here. (She wouldnt move anywhere away from her family. I on the other hand could go anywhere, anytime.) I left LA for all the wrong reasons and I will never forgive myself for that. There is no telling where I would be in my career almost four yeas later had I stayed and stuck out the burnout period. After leaving I had spent a year being just as financially unsound as I had been when I was out west. This guy had given me opportunities to come back where I belonged. The only problem was that the gesture in itself was a double-edged sword. The first time I did the LA trip I had stayed for a month. That was how long I was going to need to make the money to return. I had managed to finagle a client I had been working for at the time to let me use his UPS account to send my editing bay, cameras and everything I owned to his house. Unbeknownst to everybody, I was not coming back. By living on his couch for a month with no substantial way to save money due to the glass we were doing to stay awake at the editing bay, eating out and money spent catching up with everybody else, I was no better off. Meanwhile, on the East Coast, the house I had left hoping my old roommates would step up to the plate was falling apart. Mandi, my girlfriend had taken over my spot in that very house. Unfortunately, I had not covered my ass and left my name on the lease. I left LA to return and take care of business, with the intention on going right back and well, my Jeep never made the trip back across the desert.
(If you want the full story of this situation, you will have to read the BACKSTORY of it all.
For the short version of the story, this guy and I both had a plan. He needed a partner and I needed somebody that could inspire me and help me with my big ideas. It was unfortunate that every time we tried to merge as a business it had always been bad times and the situation had always been easier said than done. The worst part of the situation was that I would always have to go to him and only had his resources he could provide for financial stability. I had only worked in adult movies through him. He was the front man. I was the man behind the curtain. He would split his workload with me. So instead of each of us making our own money. He would make money and pay me out of that to keep us both afloat. It was like robbing Peter and giving to Paul. The last time we tried the merger, I drove from Florida to Rhode Island with my dog and belongings in June of 2005. He was getting movies shipped from out west to him, cutting them and sending them back. He was also going out four times a year and shooting two of his own. Two weeks later I drove all the way back to Florida. My girlfriend had gotten cold feet about moving up north. I should have known and never even thought nor brought up the idea of going to New England in the first place. But I did and again, I had to let him down. He went to LA four months after which would have left us moving to LA as well, and Mandi would have never gone for that, so it worked out for the best. Unfortunately, this situation caused a major fallout of our friendship. Six months later, I contacted him via email to congratulate him on his new baby boy only to find out he thought all these times I had just been using him for money. This was so far from the truth, but looking back, I can understand why he thought this way. After a couple of replies, I finally told him why I had done and what I did. He did not reply to that one and that was that He went to LA, signed a deal with Mayhem and I went on to Fox.

On my way back to Florida, I passed over the George Washington bridge in New York and vowed the next time we met, I would have my end covered as well so I did not have to depend on his ability to sale and keep business rolling. I vowed that the next time we met wed both have equal pull, equal push. That decision in New York prompted this whole endeavor of making my own porn

Upon returning to North Carolina, I had put high expectations on my talent and myself. I had made a two-year plan to make my own mainstream film. Doors for me began opening to do an adult film here and I thought, what perfect irony. After countless attempts to find his whereabouts to congratulate him on his prosperous career, I had come up short. I had followed his career through news articles, and DVD releases, but had not been able to locate the man himself Until two weeks ago.

In the profile search, I had stumbled across a Ryan whose picture and profile matched my long lost friend. (Frickin Myspace, again.) This Ryan was also known in the adult industry as Zak Wylde. I requested him as a friend and sent him a message, catching up. I was worried he would reject my request and cancel his account after seeing my face turning up again, but he didnt. He replied and we shot the shit back and forth. We laughed at the fact that I was putting together my own porno. He then like always offered a helping hand. He had stressed that if I could raise a little more money than I had been asking, I could come out there and shoot the movie with real talent and real marketing pull. I took in everything he said, but did not change my course. I would do this thing the way I have been doing it and let the chips fall as they may. (I had also vowed the next time Ryan and I did a project together, I would be able to pay him.)
I had used this quest to make a porn in NC as a stepping-stone to regain Ryans trust and confidence in me, also leading to future. opportunities to join the Super Powers, our friends used to call us. Of course, I was not counting on finding him on Myspace before he saw my movie or at least heard about it, but this was OK too. I had always valued his friendship and knew I had let him down countless times, but maybe all of it had a reason Until the money is raised to do the upgrades and maybe steer toward Zaks idea of going back HOME to shoot the movie, Ill look forward, work hard and find those resources, and only use my friend as my Obi-Wan. Thank you Myspace. I retort all my statements about you in the pastEnough of the sappy whiny shit Back to work.

Chapter 4 - The Boys with no Balls

I had to schedule the meeting for mid afternoon. The guys were not very happy about it. I suppose they had something better to do. I could hardly think what... They were both married???? I had to drop my best friend off at the Vet's Office. Vinyard, my lab was a very, very sweet and lovable lab... Now. He was for a while worst than Marley who has been claimed in the New York Times as the world's worst dog. He is two and was given to me by a wonderfully cool woman at a time where my life was very tumultuous. I had made the decision not to go back to LA and was living on my friends' sofa in Asheville, NC in hopes of some kind of miracle or break. My esteem, finances, and outlook on my life were very grim. I have travelled a lot and spent everything going from one place to the other. Then Vinyard comes along and gave me something to take my mind off the hole I was slowly digging. He did just that. He chewed a door off its henges, pulled a whole floor's carpet up, dug a whole through two mattresses and boxsprings of mine. Let's not forget the backseat of a brand new Maxima of my neighbors. He had also fallen out of a second story window, eaten Anti-Freeze and witnessed an actual murder of a woman. This is all in two years. Even after all that, I would not trade him for the Playboy Mansion. Now the destruction only comes in spurts where he destroys everything he sees. Most of it was little replaceable things here and there. My only concern with my little buddy was that he was the clumiest sunuvabitch I had ever seen and it didn't help that he was 120 pounds and would always get over excited with even a slight pat to his ass. His spills would knock over tables, shake the light out of the ceiling and rattle my pens off the desk. I feel his excitement is my fault. He lately has not recieved the attention nor excerise I was able to give him in the past. Unfortunately, I was the only one who could handle him on a leash because of his behavior so he didn't help the situation at all.

OK, so Payton, (my little angel,) was coming in a little under three weeks and I had become worried big Vinny maybe too much for her. Not saying he would ever hurt her. In fact, he was a very protective dog and that would only carry on to her when it was time. I mean he was as gentle as a butterfly when HE WAS CALM. My human best friend had a lab as well who greatly resembled Vinny's behavior. Three days before going to the hospital to induce labor for my goddaughter to arrive, he had made the hard decision to cut his dog's nuts off. The cahoneys had to go...

I had always and will always be against neutering full bred dogs. Vinny had begun to chew up things again, including my unborn daughter's stuff and had gotten excited on a walk and pulled me and himself into an electrical fence with enough volts to fend off cows. I had grown tired and gave into the advice my friend had given to take another approach.

The decision had not come easy. In fact, I had pulled him out of the surgery room at the last minute the first time I took him in. The second time, I walked in, handed his leash to the Vet's Assistant and beelined for the door, trying to not give myself a chance to pull out. I got into my car... Stopped... Got out of my car and finally fought myself to drive the car out into traffic sticking to my decision. All the way to the office I was nearly in tears....Sad that I had become so emotional over a freakin' dog.

I arrived at the office. I was completely detached when I grabbed my pen and wrote on an index card, "we will go with Option B," and showed it to Cutter and Wade. At first nobody said a word. OK, about five minutes had gone by when, "You know, I think we had always known that this was the way to go," Wade replied. "Yeah, " I mumbled. "Baby steps." "We're three country kids that just so happen to be intelligent despite what other people might think. We'll make it happen, regardless," Cutter said. And he was right. We had a plan. The plan was good and profitable whether it be big or small. I hated to lose that dream of having all the Stars come to my hometown and just to say, "Yeah, I did that." All egos aside, we would make more money off the Amateur route on this production and I should really accept the defeat and turn this negative into a positive. "Well, take down the Gauge Countdown. Damn," Wade said making his way to the counter. I paused for a moment. Wade and Cutter grabbed both sides of the sign. "Wait," I stopped
them. "Leave it up." They looked at me almost feeling bad that I would not part with it. "I'm gonna' call her anyway... See how much she would want to do it," I replied. They looked at me like I was crazy. "I gotta' go get my ballless wonder," I mumbled as I walked away. I looked back. They were still looking at me. "Ol, c'mon guys. It couldn't hurt. She's not gonna' black ball us for asking... The worst she could do is hang up on me."

I left the office.

I couldn't help but think about our decision, (or should I say my decision,) to aim lower on this first project, as I strolled through the Vet's office parking lot. I had almost forgotten what I was there for, but as they brought my dog to the lobby I knew I had made a mistake. He look pitiful and was stumbling around from the Narcotics they injected into him to perform the surgery. He looked like Jack Nicholson, after the labotomy they gave
him at the end of "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest." As I paid the vet. He rested his head on my shoe. Drool began seeping through to my sock. He had been so loyal and this was how I repaid him... Then I thought about my decision on the Porn Film and nearly broke down in tears again.

Great, I have no balls at all.... And now he doesn't either.

Chapter 3 - James Cameron and a Swollen Chin

I sat in my pajamas from Saturday until Monday morning. They were warm and comfortable flannels even with my german helmet protruding from the crotch everytime I stood up straight.  Thank God for the booze I consumed over the  entire weekend for it kept me hunched over just enough not to show it off. I wasn't trying to draw pity. I wasn't doing it because I had watched "Leaving Las Vegas" the night prior to the pajama incident. I had heard a cool story that had stuck with me for years and I had  never really had any reason to try it myself . Until now...

The story goes like this: When James Cameron was editing Titanic he had easily spliced together his six hour opus in record time. His vision had been so precise to what he had captured that  he could play every moment out in his head before he even touched the editing bay. Then when it was time to piece together something as simple as the opening credits, he lost it... He and his editors could not come up with a powerful opening for the film. They sat for a week trying different things and just could not come up with anything that he felt was "perfect."  After two weeks he had become completely frustrated. That Friday night, the editing team had left early and James sat.... And sat. He ran to the local liquor store and picked up a fifth of my favorite, Jose Cuervo. He went back to editing room and began doing shots, watching footage, trying to let out a little steam.  The next morning, his producers and assistant editors entered the office to find James passed out in his chair. The bottle nearly empty and the playhead at the end of a clip. The producer noticed it and started the  clip.... It was the opening credits Cameron had drunkingly cut together. Cameron had to be woken up, where his producers gave him an ovation. Cameron had no idea that he had even cut the clip. It was the one that made the final cut and he had no idea he had even done it.

OK, so now that the story has been told... I thought drinking myself into a stupor would allow me to figure out what the hell I was going to do  about my movie. By Sunday, I didn't know my name let alone have any idea what the hell I was going to do. This drinking myself into problem solving mode had been a complete waste of time.  Monday, I was showering.... Cleaning the funk off. I began shaving and realized that my double chin had gotten a little bigger... I tried to smash it back in and hope that it stayed, but it came right back... My chin had gotten bigger, overnight and I really had no control over it apparently... I had been  working out at the gym and watching what I had been eating for over three months now... All that just to prevent the chin swelling I was disgustingly looking at this second.
Then the 'James Cameron' moment came.... I want say that I blacked out and when I woke up we were watching the finished product of our porn.... Actually the very opposite. I had just come to the realization that my "Option A" plan for the XXX film would never in a million years work.  Just like my chin, all the preparation and prevent tactics in the world would not help... My dream of importing Gauge and other talents was exactly what I said it was... A dream. This was my first movie without Los Angeles, without Zak Wylde and without the normal $15,000 budget. I should aim lower.... That's it, call a meeting.

Introduction- The Story

In 2001, I returned to North Carolina from Porn Valley, California. I was exhausted. I was working 40 hours a week, shooting a mainstream feature, while shooting and editing adult videos to float payroll for my mainstream film. At the time, I thought it to be a hiatus. I had planned on returning to LA in late summer, but begin picking up jobs in North Carolina. While I was doing these jobs, I got into a serious relationship and was offered a position at FOX Sports in Florida. I could not pass up that chance so off to the Sunshine State I went.

In the time before the move to Florida, my partner in crime slash mentor out west, Zak Wylde, was blowing up as a Gonzo/Adult Film Director. Generously, he offered me time and time again jobs to get me back to Los Angeles. I would fly out, work on Adult films and after a month of sleeping on the couch, eating Burger King and still scraping by, due to paying bills in NC as well as LA, I would retreat back to my roots. In those many trips I would slowly hone my craft at the Adult Video genre. The last time I returned, I came up with an idea to make an Adult Film in the Carolinas. Two partners and I hit the streets attempting to acquire investors. We had many bites, but many were last minute pullouts due to disagreeing wives, debt issues and others. With my savings depleting, I began to get scared. At the same time as my fear began to kick in, I was offered the position in Florida. I had to take it Life is short.

A Year Later

Seventy five percent of the employees at Fox were laid off due to a buyout. With a child on the way, my girlfriend and I decided to come back to North Carolina and settle down. It was not long before I began my trips out west again to bring in some extra money and more importantly, learn more about the business. I then landed a position at AEBN, the global leader of Adult Entertainment on the internet, where I am now continuing to learn the business side of the industry. My mind began to brainstorm again about making an Adult Film in North Carolina. This time it was safe to say I had all the resources to do so, plus I was a professional now and could take on this project. My business partners had grown too, into mature professionals and were relieved to know that we were going to finish what we had started

Chapter Two - Legalities

I flew in the door.  Streamed back to Wade's office. Cutter was on his way out.

"Gotta' go," he said completely avoiding me. "Hey how was the meeting?"

"How do you think the meeting was," I sarcastically threw back.

"Wade needs you."

 

Fucking Duh.

 

I entered his office. He turned around with a shit-eating grin on his face. I'm prepared for the absolute worst.

"We gotta' change the site and you are going to have to just buy a bunch of copies of your movies to give to people, " he said soothingly.

I paused…. What the hell did that mean?

I let him know, "What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, the lawyer is worried about the footage of the movies you have worked on. He thinks them being on the internet may stir up some copyright infringement, if noticed by people we don't want to view it," he explained. It made sense, but I still didn't understand what the big deal was? "Makes sense… You got our name all over that Xpeeps site. We show up on Google, when you type the word 'Smut' in the search box and the straw that broke the camel's back….. We have links to other porn companies on our site…." He waited for an answer.

I was still lost.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, if they have a webmaster on the premises and they start getting a lot of hits through our site, they may inquire about who this Smut Company is, go to our site and then be dicks about it and want us to pay to advertise them," he explained again.

"That's the rub," was the only thing I could get out of my mouth.

"That's the rub," he repeated.

"Which means that the Gauge banner that links her site to ours should probably be taken down until after we talk to her and finalize," I rhetorically asked.

"Yes," Wade paused. "How did the meeting," I interrupted with, "It sucked. That guys a scumbag." Wade laughed under his breath trying to soothe me even though I knew he was starting to worry that his golden paycheck was no where near coming in soon. He waited for an executive decision….

"What do we do," he waited.

"We would need like forty copies of at least two of the movies, that's ridiculous," I explained.

"Yes it is."

I pondered and pondered trying to find the easiest way out for me of course. I mean heaven forbid have to go back down in the dungeon and redo a month's work to keep from losing the company, my life and my house to some bullshit lawsuit…. C'mon, none of that is worth the work.

And then it dawned on me….

"Ok, password protect the video in the media section and we'll switch out the Gauge banners for Smut Journal Banners, Donate to the Cause banners…. You know like a little Paypal HTML page? Who knows right? Switch out the main page's Gauge banner with a Easy Proposal View Banner and the rest will get the Join the Army casting call," I was brilliant if only for a moment.

"How do investors see the video if it is password protected," he asked.

"We'll give them the username and password on the back of our business cards after we have met with them and think they are serious," Brilliant again.

Wade thought about it for a moment. Nodded his head in approval.

"That's a great idea," he exclaimed in his calm kind of way.

"Yeah, that's why I'm the Creative Director," I boasted, turning towards the door.

"I'll be in my office, making banners and searching for more fat investors to waste my time with."

I shut his door behind me.

Take the legalities and cram them up your brown. Suing's for pussies.

Chapter One - The Fat Investor

The following story is 100% true as hard as it may seem to be believed…
I woke up refreshed despite the fact that I had not showered nor shaved for five days now. I had locked myself into the dungeon O' computers to finish the website and finalize the business plan so I could move on to Step 2 which was Get Money, Make Movie. That day was a big day. I actually had to shower and shave, for I was meeting with my first possible investor. I had known him from a bar we both had frequented in the past. He had said then that if I ever managed to stay in North Carolina long enough to do my own XXX feature, to call him first. I had called him three weeks prior and his receptionist had scheduled the meeting for that day. He ran three construction companies. He was a real piece of work.  In fact, I honestly think he opened the third just to support his "late night at work" trips to the strip club habit. But, who was I to judge? He was about to give me nine grand for my movie. Cleaned up with business proposal and examples of my work in hand,  I entered the double wide office of his largest company. I sat in the lobby for about thirty minutes, but he could have left me there all afternoon and I would have been fine, considering the circumstances. His old crusty receptionist was a  barrel of joy. She had said seven words to me the whole time I had been nesting there and those were, "you have to shut that door hard." Finally, he exited his office and shook my hand. He had gained at least one hundred and fifty pounds since I last saw him. Eyes were glazed over and I suspect he was on his way to one hundred and seventy five pounds with the Quarter Pounder residue that had been left from lunch earlier. He walked me into his office where a bottle of Jack rested in plain view on his desk, half drank. We caught up for a minute. It was mostly cheap talk about the regulars of the bar from the past and where they were now. The talk got stale when he asked me what he could do for me. I slid the budget proposal over his desk. He looked at it for a moment.
"The Smut Company," he read aloud. "What is this?"
I replied with, "What we talked about three weeks ago. You had said way back when, if I was to finally make a movie here in North Carolina, to come to you first."
I waited.
"Ol, yeah… I remember. So wow, you're really gonna' do it? I never thought you and that group you ran with would ever pull it off," he cackled with a sarcastic tone.
"Well, I am. And I don't run with those guys anymore… They are bad for productivity."
He looked over it. He read a little here and a little there and then closed the pamphlet.
"So I take it you wanna' pitch this to me," he asked.
I began to tell him how I already had actors and actresses in mind and we would be able to shoot it for cheaper than out west. I was on point and I am not a salesman. I gave him numbers and perceived profits. He sat for a second when I finished my pitch taking a swig of his Jack Daniels.
"Here's the thing, Garrick…" Were the first words out of his mouth after the grimace of the whiskey after taste lightened up. I hated those words. I had heard them for nine years in Hollywood trying to break in to mainstream production companies. The outcome of those words was never good. AND I MEAN NEVER. He continued, "I told you I would help you and I keep my word. This is a small investment and I know you can do it. Hell, I own two of your movies."
That's it? That easy? Surely not?
"But…"  he retorted. Here it came. I fucking knew it.
"My wife just left me. She took the kids and moved to Chicago where her family is," he said in an almost relieved tone.
"That sucks." (Such a great comeback on my part.)
"Aw, hell. I was relieved. I was tired of hiding everything and listen to the bitch scream and yell.  The kids are old enough to fly alone, so it's really for the best."
Ok, so I'm still in I thought to myself.
"So, I'll give you eight, if you can come up with the rest," he challenged.
Having to find one thousand more dollars when you have raised eight was a piece of cake. I honestly could have thrown in five hundred and still paid rent.
"That's great, sure, you got it, " I was ecstatic. I have never had any luck raising money for any of my movies whether they are porn or mainstream. Maybe my luck had changed.
"Absolutely… I'll raise the other grand, hell I'll raise two if needed," I boasted.
"Now you say you are using professionals? Like actually stars, " he asked.
"I have talked to them and it all comes down to money and I guess that's taken care of," I returned and then the train wreck came not a mili-second after I finished that sentence.
"Well, I wanna' fuck one of them," he spewed.
All was quiet… "Come again?"
" I want to fuck one of them. Doesn't matter which one. I just wanna' fuck 'em."
"It doesn't work that way. These girls are professionals. They don't fuck everybody on set like you have probably heard. That would never happen, unfortunately. I mean, sure in a perfect world, but not in porn," I explained.
"Sure it does. Happens all the time. I know," he commanded.
If there is one weakness I have it is when people treat me like an idiot or condescend me. It doesn't go over very well and this fat fuck just told ME what happens on a porn set.
"No, Bob it does not. Sure people get together on the set, go out on dates, drinks whatever, but it will be a cold day in hell before one of those chicks just starts fucking producers, directors and everybody else," I replied very firmly.
"What if I threw in another grand just for the one," he asked.
"As dumb as it may sound to you, Bob, these girls aren't whores. They are entertainers. If I waved a thousand dollars in their face to fuck my 'money guy,' they would have us in legal up to our ears, " I had no idea if that was true, but it sure sounded good.
"Sure they're whores, but I understand your point," he sat for a minute, thinking. I was getting more and more bothered by the nougat of Quarter Pounder still  on his shirt.
" What if I was in the scene with her," he outlandishly asked.  I had no answer. I could really tell him what I think. "No, Bob, you are a fucking disgusting pig and I would not waste the tape or the towels it would take to wipe the ooze that would pour from your clogged sweat glands to put you in front of any camera. Even if the camera was turned off." I didn't say that of course, but I quickly came back with, " the women pick their partners most of the time. I know, I know, but with the times changing, the girls are getting harder to please."
"C'mon, Garrick, give me something here. I need something to rub into my old lady's face. I need something to talk about," he begged without revealing he was.
"You will. You will have a great adult film that you can say you made happen. That may be even cooler, than actually being in it," I said in a positive way.
"Well, my answers no," he said grabbing a swig of Jack.
I was befuddled.
"No? That's it? All of a sudden it's no? A second ago it was yes," I asked. I was ready to take that bottle of his and whack him in the mouth with it.
"Garrick, did you think I was just going to write you check for the movie and not get any sort of participation gift? Come on, guy. You make one of my requests happen and I'll pay for the whole thing. Otherwise, I gotta' go out to a site and scream at some Mexicans." He got up from his desk and extended his hand to me. "It was good to see you.  You call me if you get that worked out." He left me in his office exiting out the back door. I left the mobile home office still completely baffled about that conversation that just took place. I thought about his proposition and damn me, but I even thought questioned if it could be done. Then my integrity kicked over the scumbag's bucket of thoughts and then the reality set in. There went one promising investor. I started off to my car when the phone rang. It was Wade. All I heard was, "Garrick, we have a problem. Come over here as soon as you can."  Fuck, what now?
After thinking about this situation, I began to think maybe 'Bob' was just a really cunning business man and had propositioned me that way, because he knew that I would never do it or that it just couldn't be done at all and that would be his way out. But because he gave his word earlier on in that bar years back, he didn't just want to say 'no'…. Maybe?
- 'Bob' was used to conceal the man's real identity.