NO SYMPATHY FROM BRETT (Surprised?)

Towards the end of "DON'T MESS WITH BRETT" this little scene takes place shortly after Lola Buchanan's older sister has passed away:



(in Brett's own words, as usual)

Well, I kept my distance from Lola and her whole family over the course of the next few days. Needless to say, unscrupulous bastards are not exactly welcomed with open arms in very many places, least of all at wakes and funerals; and if Lola had been counting on leaning on me for moral support while she was in mourning over her sister’s death, she was pretty much wasting her time – especially after she took a time-out from her period of grief to inform me that, if I hadn’t attended Roxie and Clarence’s double-shower a few weeks ago, none of these people’s lives would have been ruined, and I simply told her, “Not my problem, babe. You were the one who invited me to go there with you in the first place, remember?” So, that was that! Plus, hadn’t she just finished telling me about this fantastic new boyfriend of hers on the police force? If she really needed a shoulder to cry on, then, she could always turn to Macho-Man Bailey, couldn’t she, and she could water that ugly shaved head of his with her tears all night long to the point where something might actually grow on it! Hey, after all, I did have my own agenda, and I even went out of my way at one point to tell her that, regarding her sister’s death, she should try not to let it get to her.

 

    “People die. It happens. Deal with it,” is what I told her, so in a sense, I was acting like a genuinely kind and caring person, wouldn’t you say?

 

Genuinely kind & caring?

Brett? ? ?

Well -- Maybe in the warped alternate reality known as Brett's World !!

BREAKFAST WITH BRETT & THE GIRLS (excerpt)

Actually, as all you Brett fans the world over would already know, this is an excerpt from the novel "BRETT ALWAYS WINS" -- not "Breakfast with Brett & the Girls" which doesn't even exist (yet).

The scene is Brett's kitchen. Brett is seated at the table with his newest client Paula Marshall while his live-in girlfriend Ginger has been making breakfast over at the stove. . .when THIS little incident/conversation transpires:

I attacked my breakfast with gusto, and soon Ginger had a tall glass of o.j. in front of me which – even to the naked eye – appeared to spell pulp-a-mania to me in no uncertain terms. She was being such a good slave hyphen cook hyphen waitress just then that I hated to do it, but when she set another plateful of food down upon the table and sat down in front of it, I reached over, took that plate, and set it down in front of Paula instead.

    “She needs it a lot more than you do, babe,” I told Ginger before she managed to get a word out of her mouth. “We got more eggs in the ‘fridge, don’t we, so what’s the big deal? Just you scoot back over to the stove and whip up a few more – and some for yourself, too. Oh, and I’ll be needing more orange juice pretty soon.”

    “How soon would that be? – In less than two shakes of a duck’s ass, I suppose?” Ginger wanted to know, her eyes narrowed at me like any minute now she’d lash out at me with claws extended. Me! The man she was presumably so much in love with, would you believe it? And that not-so-subtle duck’s-ass allusion? What was up with that?

    “Whatever you say, sweet-cakes,” was my cool response. “Just bring me the damned food when it’s ready, that’s all I’m asking.”

    “Haven’t you ever heard of the word ‘please?’” she then threw back at me in a testy manner as she stood over me, hands on hips, thinking that somehow I’d find her stance and attitude tremendously intimidating, so I shot back,

    “Haven’t you ever heard of the phrase ‘I don’t give a shit?’”

 

 

 

A lovely way to start the day -- if you happen to be an UNSCRUPULOUS BASTARD, that is !!!