I’ve known Chester a long time. We’re buds. I’m a director and I usually have him do all my location scouting. I think lately his life is on the dull side — I don’t think he’d mind a little spicing up.
“On the dull side.” The motherfucker. “Buds.” What did that mean? Like some word out of Fast Times at Ridgemont High. “I’m a director.” Right, you’re Ridley fuckin Scott. “I usually have him do all my location scouting.”
Mah nigger!
THEY met at a patisserie on Doheny called In Conversation. Mr DeConcini was early and stood to greet him at a tiny outside table, sympathetically watching his client move slowly toward him, clearly in distress. They shook hands and Chess winced from the strength of the grip. He got a stabbing pain. The attorney apologized.
Remar was bald, black, buff, and gay, one of those aggressive queers in delicate, rimless glasses that you don’t want to tangle with. Chess was right — the lawyer confirmed he’d been tipped by someone on the show. They chitchatted before the plaintiff gave the waiter his order: orange juice, latte, chocolate croissant. He knew the breakfast was a freebie.
Remar asked for an egg-white omelet, and red Tabasco.
“You know, this is really a growth industry in terms of recent litigation. Some of these shows are just outrageous! It’s not just the injuries — which many people don’t even report, because they wind up, for God knows what reason, still consenting to be on the broadcast. That’s America — we love to be on television! The fame game. Born and bred for it. I think it’s one thing if you’re a 19 year old kid and all your friends watch this garbage and somehow it’s cool to be made a jackass. When you’re 19 you’ve got a whole different mind- and body-set, you’re out there on weekends indulging in dubious activities anyway — I know I was! — skateboarding, gettin concussions, whatever. So you’re used to being knocked around. But it’s something else entirely if you’re an adult person, fully grown, awakening each day with the reasonable expectation one’s privacy is not going to be violated in an egregious, frivolous manner, for the sport of others. How old are you, Chester?”
“41. I’ll be 42 in 3 months.”
“You’re 41—you’ve put away childish things. Now, I don’t know what in the world your so-called friend had in mind to think that you would somehow enjoy a hazing. Which is what this was. A dangerous, unregulated hazing. It’s actually worse: at least fraternity kids know what to expect, to a degree. This is more equivalent to an act of terrorism! I am not exaggerating, my friend. This sort of thing is a cultural fad that is going to have major legal consequences for the networks and their parent companies. It already has. We will not tolerate bloodsport, Mr Herlihy. We are not living in Roman times—yet, anyway! All of these cases are landmark, because they will help reverse a horrible trend, a low cultural watermark. Collectively, we are beginning to deplete their pocketbooks, and that is the only way to get their attention. So I see this as an opportunity, Mr Herlihy. An opportunity to make you more than whole.”
Chess liked what he was hearing. “Aren’t there limits on this sort of thing? ‘Ceilings’? Isn’t that what they call — I mean, if it’s tied to income…if you need me to put together tax returns for the last 5 years, it’s not going to be pretty. I don’t know if I’ve even filed.”
“Those ‘caps’ only refer to noneconomic damages involving medical malpractice. This is not that, my friend. This is close to criminal negligence. We ain’t got no cap. In my experience, claims like these can generate jury verdicts in the high 6’s — that’s without punitive damages! No guarantees, of course.”
“What about Maurie? I mean, would he be part of the suit?”
“Might be.”
He removed his lenses and methodically cleaned them with a fine-knit cloth. Chester thought it was a move he probably made while in court, for the benefit of a jury.
“Depends on how you feel. We could do him for fraud. Intentional misrepresentation. Intentional infliction of emotional distress. Go after his savings — pension, whatever. You need to think about that. But I’ll be pursuing Friday Night Frights: the entity that provides the venue, the superstructure so to speak, that makes it possible for folks to wake up in the morning with the bright idea that evoking public spectacle by putting their friends through emotional and physical hell is somehow a wonderful gift to the world. FNF and their parent company are at the top of our food chain. Oh, believe me, they’ll make us an offer we can’t refuse. They do not want to go to court — though we may very well want to take them there! The tabloids settle every day, and the amounts are impressive. Most of the time you don’t hear about it because of provisions for confidentiality that are built in to the settlements. They’re kept under seal, and for good reason. People would be amazed at the kind of numbers we’re talking about. We are absolutely playing in that ballpark, Mr Herlihy, because we are beyond libel. We’re in a whole different universe! We’re talking personal injury, negligence, and intentional infliction of emotional distress. Hell, if they ever broadcast that — and I wouldn’t put anything past these folks — add ‘false light invasion of privacy’ to the brew — then shake n bake!”
They took a breather as the food arrived.
Remar spoke of other things. He’d just paid $3,000 for the right to drive through a gated community off Mulholland, “which reduced my commute by 40 minutes.” He said how wonderful Barry Manilow’s show in Vegas was (“I’m a sucker for Barry, always have been”); how he and his partner were thinking of buying a house in San Miguel de Allende; his pro bono work with a Venice literary foundation where established authors mentored kids from the inner city.
He stabbed a forkful of bloodily spice-soaked eggs and looked up.
“Chess — I want to ask you something that may seem a little off-the-wall. Were you a bedwetter?”
“No.”
“OK, great. Because you peed your pants, didn’t you?” Plaintiff nodded. “Do you remember when that happened? Exactly? Because it’s going to be important to establish this involuntary response — perfectly normal under the circumstances — but we will need to establish that it happened at the exact moment you felt your life was over. Note I am not saying the moment you felt your life was threatened, I’m saying, over. There’s a difference. That is going to be part of my strategy, and I think it’s going to serve us very well. So if you don’t recall right now that’s fine. And by the way, I would have done more than just pee! I’ve seen the tape. I’d have definitely made myself ‘a sandwich.’ So just think about the moment you thought that happened, Chester, see if it comes back, and if you can’t recall, think about when you imagine that it happened. And I’ll do the rest.” He put the now cooling eggs in his mouth, savoring the taste. “And another thing: I don’t want you speaking with anyone from that show.”