Louis Jean, a young NYC club promoter, has been doing cocaine for a long time. One might say too long. The doctors told him he’d been doing it too long, and had developed life-threatening abdominal complications as a result. Louis, never a quitter, tried to continue doing his favorite drug, but the pain became too much, and facing his own mortality convinced him to stop snorting the poodle thighs of Colombian powder that had powered his lifestyle for so long.
The problem is, Louis earns a living from being at clubs and throwing parties for the effete elite of NYC. As much as these people worship Rachel Maddow, they love cocaine even more. So now Louis’ livelihood requires hanging out and having fun (at least faking it), surrounded by a drug he adores, but can’t do. As you can imagine, Louis is pretty grumpy and stressed out these days.
Louis was starting to get a handle on the whole thing, until one night in the basement of the Dream Hotel things took a turn for the disastrous. After a long night of coke-free partying on the roof, Louis went down to the basement to get a drink, relax for a minute and head home. When he got into the basement, the first thing he saw was fat, gluttonous, Axl Rose:
Louis had met Axl months before, at The DL, and had been convinced by the former star to come get some McDonalds by a shrill, shrieked, “Let’s go to McDonald’s, they’ve got pies and cakes!” Most things Axl says these days are sung perversions of his own hits from the 80′s, with altered lyrics that usually revolve around food. Louis tried to protest that as far as he knew, McDonalds doesn’t carry cakes, but Axl turned and snarled, “they’ll get me what the fuck I ask for. I’m Axl Rose,” to the tune of no song at all. As Axl mowed through the custom-made McDonalds desserts, he sung to Sean, “ohhh sweet pie of mineee.” From then on, Axl considered Louis a close personal friend, so when he saw him walk into the basement of Dream, he waved Louis over hastily.
Louis saw Axl, and knew what would happen, but couldn’t disrespect the former star. It would be bad business considering Axl went out clubbing most nights of the week, so Louis went over with a fake, plastered on smile, to schmooze and pay tribute. What he saw made him clench his teeth in agony. Axl was waving him over with a ounce of coke in his hand. Former adversaries and leeches garbed in denim and bandanas hung around Axl, desperate for the feeding frenzy to begin. Diddy had just left the table in search of female company.
“Come do coke with me and Diddy, snort with a Benjy, never a Fifty!” Axl wailed, racking up a line the size of an anaconda. Louis stared into the gluttonous, tomato-faced monster bouncing before him without a care in the world. A man able to do copious amounts of cocaine, stuff his gargantuan face with fast food daily, and never worry about responsibilities of any kind. Medical professionals, venues, nay the whole world would maintain and take care of him forever, always with a false, patronizing smile that never seemed to register with Axl. Louis had already told him that he couldn’t do coke anymore, earlier that night in fact, but Axl could care less about that. Or anything other than his own immediate pleasure. He wants to do some coke, Louis thought. I’ll give him some fucking coke.
And with that Louis concocted a plan that would change his life forever.
TO BE CONTINUED.