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pan6467 · 04-13-2005, 08:35 AM

The bar was dimly lit and except for Mary setting up the tables, only Mark and Mike were there. They were discussing how to get the nightclub back on it's feet. After the drug bust and the parking lot shooting business crashed.

"Mark, we have got to do something. It's been 2 months and we are dying here. Maybe another 2, 3 months at most and then we're broke, bro." Mark said as he looked at the books trying to make the figures somehow look good in his head.

"Mike, you worry too much. We'll make it, besides we aren't...." the phone rang and interupted Mark.

Mike reached for the phone and answered.

"Sandel's Beach House, Mike speaking."

"Mr. Sandel, Frank Stafford from Zamprata Records, do you have a moment?"

"Sure, but I don't know why you're calling me the band broke up. Mark and I have moved on."

"I understand, but there seems to be a problem and we need for you and your brother to come to L.A. and sign off on you contract."

"I see, well we can probably be there in a month or so."

"Well, I've contacted J.C. and Sean and they are coming in Friday at 3 and we would like to get everyone here at the same time to sign."

" I see. Well, Mr. ummmm...." Mike said trying to sound disinterested.

"Stafford."

"Mr. Stafford, Mark and I run a hot nightclub and Fridays are our busiest night, we really can't afford to miss out."

"Well, Zamprata is willing to pay travel expenses and reimburse you for the lost time."

"Well if you are paying the least we can do is be there. You say Sean and J.C. will be there? Fuck, haven't seen those assholes since the the fight. You keep J.C. from my brother man, Mark's been clean now for 4 years and that waste of a fuck loves to take down others into his paranoid delusional drug trips."

"I assure you, this will be a strictly professional meeting. We just need all 5 of you to come in and sign off on your contracts. We'll buy you out and you're done."

"What about Phil? You mentioned Sean and J.C. what about the true brains and soul behind our music, Phil."

"We've tried to locate him but it seems noone knows anything about him after the split. Family, friends, noone knows anything, I was hoping you or your brother may have something.... if not then we'll have to have a member of his family sign off as a power of attorney."

"Fuck that man. The band was his family, the fights and the final breakup of the band destroyed that man. He was better than all of us combined. I can tell you this about him because I was the closest anyone ever got to him. With the money from our last record, he bought a boat and parked it somewhere in the Virgin Islands. He knew the end was coming fast and he told me he was just going to spend his life sailing the Carribean and writing his memoirs."

There was a deafening silence on Stafford's end of the phone that lasted for seemingly minutes, before a relieved voice answered, "I see, do you know how to contact him?"

"No, by the end he trusted noone, said J.C. and that fucking slut of a sister was out to destroy him and take away everything he worked for. That last fight was over how J.C. was taking the band over and using the press and his sister to destroy Phil's life. He thought we were all in on it, and I'll admit he was right about everyone else, but not me, I loved that man more than myself at the time."

"Well, I thank you Mr. Sandel and I hope I can find him."

"Try looking up a yacht called 'Rusted Tiger', you'll find him."

04-13-2005, 08:35 AM	#3 (permalink)
pan6467 Lennonite Priest Location: Mansfield, Ohio USA	The bar was dimly lit and except for Mary setting up the tables, only Mark and Mike were there. They were discussing how to get the nightclub back on it's feet. After the drug bust and the parking lot shooting business crashed. "Mark, we have got to do something. It's been 2 months and we are dying here. Maybe another 2, 3 months at most and then we're broke, bro." Mark said as he looked at the books trying to make the figures somehow look good in his head. "Mike, you worry too much. We'll make it, besides we aren't...." the phone rang and interupted Mark. Mike reached for the phone and answered. "Sandel's Beach House, Mike speaking." "Mr. Sandel, Frank Stafford from Zamprata Records, do you have a moment?" "Sure, but I don't know why you're calling me the band broke up. Mark and I have moved on." "I understand, but there seems to be a problem and we need for you and your brother to come to L.A. and sign off on you contract." "I see, well we can probably be there in a month or so." "Well, I've contacted J.C. and Sean and they are coming in Friday at 3 and we would like to get everyone here at the same time to sign." " I see. Well, Mr. ummmm...." Mike said trying to sound disinterested. "Stafford." "Mr. Stafford, Mark and I run a hot nightclub and Fridays are our busiest night, we really can't afford to miss out." "Well, Zamprata is willing to pay travel expenses and reimburse you for the lost time." "Well if you are paying the least we can do is be there. You say Sean and J.C. will be there? Fuck, haven't seen those assholes since the the fight. You keep J.C. from my brother man, Mark's been clean now for 4 years and that waste of a fuck loves to take down others into his paranoid delusional drug trips." "I assure you, this will be a strictly professional meeting. We just need all 5 of you to come in and sign off on your contracts. We'll buy you out and you're done." "What about Phil? You mentioned Sean and J.C. what about the true brains and soul behind our music, Phil." "We've tried to locate him but it seems noone knows anything about him after the split. Family, friends, noone knows anything, I was hoping you or your brother may have something.... if not then we'll have to have a member of his family sign off as a power of attorney." "Fuck that man. The band was his family, the fights and the final breakup of the band destroyed that man. He was better than all of us combined. I can tell you this about him because I was the closest anyone ever got to him. With the money from our last record, he bought a boat and parked it somewhere in the Virgin Islands. He knew the end was coming fast and he told me he was just going to spend his life sailing the Carribean and writing his memoirs." There was a deafening silence on Stafford's end of the phone that lasted for seemingly minutes, before a relieved voice answered, "I see, do you know how to contact him?" "No, by the end he trusted noone, said J.C. and that fucking slut of a sister was out to destroy him and take away everything he worked for. That last fight was over how J.C. was taking the band over and using the press and his sister to destroy Phil's life. He thought we were all in on it, and I'll admit he was right about everyone else, but not me, I loved that man more than myself at the time." "Well, I thank you Mr. Sandel and I hope I can find him." "Try looking up a yacht called 'Rusted Tiger', you'll find him." __________________ I just love people who use the excuse "I use/do this because I LOVE the feeling/joy/happiness it brings me" and expect you to be ok with that as you watch them destroy their life blindly following. My response is, "I like to put forks in an eletrical socket, just LOVE that feeling, can't ever get enough of it, so will you let me put this copper fork in that electric socket?" Last edited by pan6467; 05-10-2005 at 07:14 PM..