Chicken A La King Page Ten

One of the Mexican workers came over, picked Ritchie up, and tossed him up in the air. He flew down, feathers flying all over the place. Lili was scared. They were going to hurt Ritchie!!!
“You stupid bird”!! Dwight shouted. The other men laughed.
One of the other men lifted Ritchie up by his beak and smashed his face. Ritcthie yelled out in pain. Lili was scared for her husband. Scared for her chicks and scared for her. At the top of the barn in the loft a reported for the New York Times lay crouched down, shooting pictures of the workers manhandling the bird. He shot some close ups of their cruel expressions. He pocketed the film and made a run for it. One of the workers saw him running and threw Ricthie back on the ground.
“Gringo!! Gringo!!”
They chased after the reporter who fled to his car outside the barn.
Lili cuddled Ritchie and tended to his wounds. He was beat up but would live and for that he was grateful. This had been another close call, almost as bad as The Big House.
Scott pulled up to Ali’s place in a new, large motor home with his Elvis picture painted on both sides of it. It was his new toy, his vehicle for traveling around the country. He was going to take his show on the road and he couldn’t wait to tell Ali the good news.
He jumped out of the motor home and walked up to her door.
“Ali! Wake up, it’s me sweetheart!”
The door opened and a grumpy, sleepy Chet looked at him wiping the sleep out of his eyes.
“Who are you?” asked Scott
“I’m Ali’s husband.... Who the fucks are you, Elvis or something?”
“Is Ali here?”
“Yeah, she’s in the bedroom.”
“Would you mind getting her for me?”
“Yeah, whatever...Ali, the circus is in town.”
Chet disappeared inside and Ali appeared at the door in a bathrobe.
“”Oh Scott! I am so sorry”
“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”
“No, Scott, it’s not what you think.”
“I think it is what I think. That dude there says he’s your husband...Is that true?”
“No! He’s not my husband. I’ve known him all my life.... He’s a friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes. From Iowa.”
“A friend from Iowa. Well now, isn’t that convenient...and so he just thought he’s come to town and shack up with you for the night.”
“No, we didn’t sleep together, he slept on the couch.’”
“Listen. Ali, it was nice knowing you all right. Fuck!”
Scott turned around to leave and Ali pulled him back around.
“It’s over. He’s leaving. I am throwing him out, alright?”
“ I think we’re over Ali”
“Why? I didn’t do anything!”
“I have to go. I don’t need this bullshit in my life.”
Scot turned down the driveway, jumped into the motor home, and sped away. Chet came over and put his arms around her. She pushed him away.
“Who the fuck was that?”
“That was my boyfriend”
“You already have a boyfriend? Don’t waste any time do ya?”
“Get out”
“What?”
“Get out now. I mean it, get out or I will.... I’ll beat you up.”
“You’re crazy!”
“One, two, three...”
“You belong out here in this cesspool. You belong out here with these crazy people Ali. You’re not the girl I used to know anymore.”
“Get out! “She screamed.
He got his clothes and left. She slammed the door behind him. He was gone. Now she would have to try and get Scott back.
Sam Fullbein arrived at Primrose studios on time for his commercial debut.
“Come into makeup Sam”. Demato took him by the arm.
“I want to look natural”.
“Don’t worry, this is Sheila...She’s the best”
“Let me just wipe your face Sam, it won’t hurt a bit.”
Sheila was a serious looking woman in her thirties. She had a soft touch whom Sam appreciated and she wiped his face over with a small sponge, her fingers working lightly over his face.
“I’m just going to give you a base and then we’ll go from there”.
She applied light touches of makeup while he fidgeted in his chair. Being a star was hard work, he thought. This was the beginning of his dream to be known as the King Of Wings. The world would know of his empire and of the man who founded it. He was leaving a legacy.
“Sam, we need to go over the final script approval.” Demato said, holding a clipboard in his hand.
“Alright, hit me.”
“Alright, first you’re on the horse, galloping towards the castle. Then the peasant girls in the castle, at the feast, surround you. You say, “Try my wings, they’re X-TRA Crunchy, that’s why I’m the King of Wings... Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.... On the horse, in the castle, surrounded by girls....”
“Ready for the first take?”
“Ready.”
The shoot went well that day and Uncle Sam became a star. His first commercial was ready to air. The X-TRA Crunchy campaign was on its way. After it was all over Demato came over and gave him a pat on the back.
“You were great”
“I’m ready to do more”
“Well, there’s a whole campaign. We’ll send you the boards as soon as the concept is finalized.”
“Right.”
Sam sat back in his limo on the way to the East Side townhouse and thought about the spot. It was a hit and he’d be a star! Sam had always been a shy guy, not one for the limelight. He was a behind the scenes character but now it was time for the world to know who Uncle Sam The Chicken Man was.
The limo pulled into the driveway and the driver opened the door for him. He stepped inside the massive red doors and his small dog Walter greeted him barking ferociously.
The walls of the townhouse were painted a soft yellow and the marble in the foyer was black and white checkered pattern. There was oak paneling everywhere and the townhouse was very spacious and elegant. He had had it decorated by the famed interior designer Juan Pablo Montoya, who had offices in New York and Los Angeles.
He deposited his briefcase in the study and checked his messages. There were no messages from Mindy. She must be having a good time. No news was good news. There was a message from David Newirth who wanted to meet him later for a drink. He called him back immediately; he could handle that.
“David, Sam here”
“Sam, good to hear from you. I’m in town, thought we could have a drink at the Egret at 8:00”.
“I’ll see you there.”
The club was an elite gentleman’s club on the East side where powerful and rich men gathered to smoke cigars, make deals and generally avoid women kind. Women were not members of the club; it was tradition.
Sam took the elevator down to his basement, which he had fully remodeled. He went through a series of doors to a small room in the back, past the wine cellar, which stocked over 500 wines; He unlocked the door and let himself in. This was his secret room, a room that Mindy didn’t have a key to. His computer was the latest G-5 with a large monitor and electronic equipment lined the walls.