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Chapter 17: “I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE!!!’’
 By Jim Caple |
Previously at 24 College Avenue: Paul Fairhaven is a film student at State College who speaks only in movie lines. Danny Edmonds is a sometimes student with drinking, gambling and overall hygiene problems. . . . Josh Williams is a fifth-year English major. . . . Jill Thomas is a former State College point guard playing for the Mubai national team. . . . Kenan Hill is an All-America linebacker for State College who suffered a concussion during the season. . . . Nicollette Mayle is a former Red Devil sprinter who has been harassed by a mysterious stalker sending her very disturbing emails signed “TrackFan’’ . . .
Fairhaven turned down the TV’s volume and looked across the couch where Danny was snoring. He had passed out roughly three hours into the Academy Awards after losing the latest house drinking game – pound a beer every time a winner gave a boring acceptance speech.
As a film student in love with movies, Fairhaven eagerly anticipated the Oscars every year yet always came away disappointed. The Oscars, he realized, were a testament to Hollywood’s infatuation with itself. The award show lasts four hours – including the red carpet show – an hour longer than scheduled. How is this possible, Fairhaven wondered. They broadcast the ceremony every year. They know precisely how many awards will be handed out. They know how long acceptance speeches last. They know how long the introductions take. And yet somehow the show always lasts much longer than scheduled. How did this happen year after year?
Disgusted, he started channel-surfing until the local news grabbed his attention when he saw a reporter standing in front of the State College student union building.
“Talk about March Madness,’’ the reporter said. “There has been a lot of drinking of campus tonight and one lucky winner is going to represent State College in the national Beer Pong championships. And I think the losers may want to switch to milkshakes for a while.’’
“Drainage! Drainage, Eli! Drained dry, you boy!’’ Fairhaven shouted at the TV screen. “If you have a milkshake and I have a milkshake and I have a straw and my straw reaches across the room and starts to drink your milkshake -- I drink your milkshake! I drink it up!’’ (1)
# # #
How does she do it? Josh wondered How the hell does she do it?’’
After five years at State College, Josh was a master at beer pong and had breezed his way through the field of 64 to the final round of the regional tournament. No one had given him much of a challenge the entire evening and he was the heavy favorite heading into the final best-of-three round against Candy O’High, a slim sophomore from the Delta Delta Delta Delta Delta Delta sorority (the sex-Delts).
Josh fully expected to beat Candy with ease and advance to the national championship sponsored by Six Pack Beer and Athena athletics. But he had seriously underestimated the young woman. For one thing, she was VERY attractive. Her tight, low-cut shirt displayed her breasts spectacularly and her jeans rode so low on her hips that Josh felt dizzy, as if he was leaning over the edge of the Grand Canyon and about to fall in. She also had a way of licking her lips that left Josh weak in the knees. Thus distracted, his usual unerring shots correspondingly rimmed off the lip of the beer cups or bounced off the table. He could feel his confidence slipping as steadily as a Minnesota thermometer in January.
Just as worrying, even when Josh sank his shots, Candy showed no signs of drunkenness after she drank the beer. The tournament had been going on all evening and despite routing his competition, Josh had been forced to drink enough beer to build up a considerable buzz. He knew from studying the tournament bracket that Candy had been forced to drink at least twice as much as he had and yet it was as if she had been drinking coffee. How was that possible?
She had blown out Josh in the first game before he rallied back to win the second one. But it had bee a costly win. Candy had sunk enough shots to make Josh down four more beers and he now was beginning to feel sick as well as drunk. They each had only one beer cup left.
Josh bounced the ball several times on the table and then brought it up in his hands for a shot. If he could sink this last ball, he would pull out the win. But if he missed, he seriously wondered whether he could remain standing long enough for another shot. He closed his eyes to clear his mind, opened them again to focus on the cup and . . . found his vision wandering toward Candy’s pierced navel Unable to stop himself, he continued to shift his gaze down lower.
Which is when he noticed something odd.
# # #
The problem with the Oscars, Fairhaven felt, was showing so much fluff. While there might occasionally be an interesting acceptance “speech’’ most were painfully boring. It just goes to show that actors don’t have much of anything interesting to say unless they were speaking words written for them. (This is why Fairhaven felt it best to speak only in lines from movie. They were much more interesting.) But even with written dialogue, the Oscars stumble. These are supposedly the best actors in the world reading material provided by some of the best writers. So why do so many seem stiff and lost on stage? Why do they all have to squint and read off cue cards? Can’t any of them memorize 30 seconds worth of dialogue?
Fairhaven switched the channel again, pausing only briefly on the 24-hour sports network that was showing a highlight tape of women celebrating on a basketball court. He was about to continue on in search of a movie when Danny distracted him with a fart of overpowering odor.
“I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board,’’ Fairhaven said, shaking his head (2).
# # #
As the last seconds drained off the clock, Chardonnay Knight rushed across the court and hugged Jill so tight it was as if her teammate was the last life preserver on the Titanic “OHMYGOD! WE DID IT! WE’RE GOING TO THE OLYMPICS!!!!’’ Chardonnay screamed as tears flowed down her checks. “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!’’
I can’t believe it either, Jill thought, though mostly what she couldn’t believe was that any of them were still on the damn team.
She, Chardonnay and Camila Brabrickovich had fully intended to leave both the Mubai national team and the country. After all, Jill had been arrested, jailed and threatened with 50 lashes for trying to protect a young girl from the religious police who were arresting her for attending Jill’s basketball game. She had been released when the religious mullahs had fallen out of power and the Prince of Mubai had vouched for her safety but she had no desire to represent such a country in the Olympics. The Prince had offered the three players hundreds of thousands of dollars to remain with the team but they refused. The three were even on the plane for home and minutes from takeoff.
Which is when the Prince had made his final and most effective pitch. He brought on board the plane Samina, the girl Jill had saved, as well as the president of the brand new Mubai Women’s Rights Organization.
“You must stay to get us into the Olympics,’’ the woman said. “If you do, we have a chance to make such a political statement to the world about the power of women in our country that the mullahs will never be able to re-establish their control and take away our rights. Surely, you will not turn your back on your sisters of the desert?’’
Jill was wavering when the girl spoke and clinched her decision. “Please stay, laila Jill,’’ Samina said. “I want to grow up and play basketball like you, too. Don’t let us down. Please.’’
Well. How could Jill say no to that? Especially when she looked into the girl’s deep brown eyes?
So Jill stayed, as did Chardonnay and Camila. And together they led Mubai to a convincing victory in the Olympic qualifying game between the East Asian/Middle East champion and the North African/Western Middle East champion. And now they were on the court hugging and celebrating and thinking about the Olympics.
And now it was time for Jill to make another decision.
# # #
What people wanted to see with the Oscars, Fairhaven was certain, were more clips from the movies and less shots of actors in tuxedos smiling at lame jokes. It would be much better if the nominations included much longer clips – at least one minute long – to really capture a scene or a performance. The show could easily make up for the extra time by cutting out the stuff no one wanted to see.
For instance, is there really a need to televise the awards for best short documentary? Is there a crying need to hand out an award for movies that no one has seen or will ever see?
“No, go back,’’ Danny said when Fairhaven switched the channel from the 24-hour sports network. “They’ve got a report coming on about the football draft. I want to see where they think Kenan is going to go.’’
Fairhaven complied. “You find out life is a game of inches, so is football,’’ he said, complying. “Because in either game -- life or football -- the margin for error is so small. I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you don't quite make it. One half second too slow, too fast and you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us’’ (3]
# # #
Blaine Reardon raised a flute of champagne and nodded toward Kenan.
“Congratulations, Kenan,’’ the agent said. “You made it through the Meat Market to guarantee yourself first round pick. And this afternoon I received a phone call from a certain team that assured me they are going to pick you.’’
He clinked the flute against Kenan’s.
“You’re going to be the first pick in the draft.’’
The news should have delighted Kenan. The top pick in the draft was guaranteed a $10 million contract. He was currently living in a basement room of a filthy old Victorian with nine other college students. And in a couple weeks, he would be in line to receive a signing bonus of almost unimaginable wealth to play the game he loved. It was the culmination of a lifelong dream . . . and a lifetime of very hard work and sacrifice. How many hot August days had he practiced until he vomited? How many cold autumn evenings had he practiced in a cold rain? How many freezing winter mornings had he risen before dawn to work out for several hours before class?
The news that he was going to be the first pick in the draft should have delighted Kenan. Instead, it depressed him. He sipped the champagne without a word.
“What’s wrong?’’ his agent asked. “You don’t look very happy about this.’’
Kenan set down the champagne flute and looked around the restaurant where he saw tables filled with smiling diners, all seemingly without a care in the world. He wished he was one of them.
“Blaine,’’ Kenan said. “I gotta tell you something.’’
# # #
Fairhaven figured they could ditch a lot of the technical awards as well. Does anyone really care about these other than the nominees? As a film major, Fairhaven had enough trouble keeping track of the difference between sound editing and sound mixing – what hope did the casual moviegoer have? He wasn’t against the awards per se; just the televising of them. You could easily cut a half dozen to eight of these awards and no one would notice.
He continued channel surfing, wondering how it was possible that there could be so many channels and so few movies. A triumphant yell reverberated through the house stooped him.
“YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!’’
“What the hell was that?’ Danny asked.
He received a quick answer when Nicollette charged down the staircase and slid across the beer-stained hardwood floor of the living room. She dropped to her knees, raised her arms toward the ceiling and let out another howl that could be heard outside in the street.
“What’s got you so hot and bothered, Nicollette?’’ Danny asked. “You thinking of a night with me and my pleasure stick?’’
Nicollette gave him the finger. “Danny, I’m feeling so excited right now not even you can bother me. Because I think I know who TrackFan is. And I’m gonna nail that son of a bitch.’’
“As God is my witness, I’ll never go hungry again,’’ Fairhaven said. (4)
Next: Spring Training
What movies did Fairhaven quote this chapter? Here they are:
(1) Daniel Plainview in “There Will Be Blood’’
(2) Princess Leia in “Star Wars’’
(3) Tony D’Amato in “Any Given Sunday’’
(4) Scarlett O’Hara in “Gone With the Wind’’
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