Beyond the Valley of the Dolls Page #5

and waits by night.

I was going to say something smart-ass,

but all of a sudden you know what?

No. What?

Suddenly, I knew you

weren't putting me on...

...that you were Emerson Thorne,

ambitious, young law student...

...and all that crap.

What about that kiss

and all that crap?

There's more where that came from,

Emerson Thorne.

You're into a heavy scene.

Don't sweat it. It can be a drag.

- Am I interrupting something?

- Harris!

Only a little make out session

between Count Dracula...

...and Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.

- Hey, man.

Ronnie Barzell, I'd like you

to meet Harris Allsworth, my...

- My manager.

- Manager, eh?

Any friend of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

is a friend of mine.

- Manager?

- The Kelly Affair.

The Kelly Affair?

You mean, you're the Kelly?

Little did I suspect I was in the presence.

Still, that name won't do, you know.

It's awfully 1950s.

- Might as well call them The Haircuts.

- Kelly, I'm ready to leave.

Leave? No. You have not yet

graced our gathering with a song.

Come, my dove. I must present you

to the faithful. Now!

Ladies and gentlemen,

an announcement if you please.

There is a new rock group in the house.

Their name, The Kelly Affair. Well, even

their best friends don't like their name.

Still, as the teen tycoon of rock, I'd like

to hear them and I'm sure you would too.

The Kelly Affair.

I'd like to strap you on sometime.

Stop! Cool it! Cool it!

Masters and mistresses, I'm

so excited about what I've just heard...

...I predict these three, like

their sister before them, Carrie Nation...

...will crush the musical barrier

and rise like angels.

Did I say "like Carrie Nation"?

Nay, nay, they are The Carrie Nations.

You'll be superstars!

- We killed them, didn't we?

- You've reached the unreachable star...

...beat the unbeatable foe. The Times

and free-press critics will pay homage.

Ronnie, we owe everything to you, man!

My fine countess,

your melodious voice...

...surpasses the haunting pipes of Circe.

Beauteous Pet of triumph,

you were a thunderstorm.

Casey, mistress fair...

...this stringed assault has left

my ears fiercely vibrating. Majestic!

- You played some funky drums out there.

- I'm glad you dug it.

- So, what's not to dig?

- Did you hear the wondrous miracle...

...wrought by my muses?

- You've done it again, Ronnie.

Again and again.

Porter, methinks this brew is not

for your more delicate sensibilities.

Courage, Camille.

Excuse me. Casey, did you

hear the crowd? You were great.

- Thank you.

- Just great.

- I'm really happy.

- And you, the infamous Ashley St. Ives...

...high priestess of carnality,

what thinkest thou of our minstrels?

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