The Banshee Chapter Page #5

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who actually puts a pen to paper,

who actually scribbles

on a f***ing napkin.

You haven't written a new

novel in, like, eight years.

I'm an old f***ing man.

I would love to read

something you've written.

No, you wouldn't.

No, you wouldn't.

You know what I like to write?

You know what I like to write?

Pornography.

Oh, is that right?

I'm quite good at it, yes.

"50 Shades of Sh*t."

Your fans worship you.

They don't worship me.

They worship an image of myself,

an image I've created,

carefully constructed.

I'm a myth.

Come on, being loved

by so many adoring fans

isn't a good enough

motivation for you?

Let me tell you something one

of my ex-wives once told me.

She said,

"Everyone will love you, Thomas,

except those of us

who know you best."

But tell me, young writer, what

is it you are writing about?

Um, actually,

you'd probably love it.

It's a novel about the

narco war in Mexico

and two young lovers who experiment

with different chemicals and...

It sounds f***in' trite.

Well, it's a work in progress.

Yeah, make 'em...

make 'em lesbians.

Really?

Burmese throat-singing lesbians.

I don't know much

about that subject.

Maybe you could help me.

Well, speaking of ingesting

experimental chemicals,

what are you doing this weekend?

Um, I didn't plan that far ahead.

Well, tell you what.

Why don't you join myself

and some fellow

travelers at my place.

We're planning an experiment.

It'll be an experience

you will not forget.

Oh, I didn't know you were into...

What is it, art?

Yes, that's art, young lady.

It's not a toy.

Don't touch that.

So who did your interior

decorating, Charles Manson?

Oh, why, f*** you very much.

You have a lot of weapons around.

Didn't you shoot

your assistant last year?

Yes, and I feel terrible about that.

But in my defense, she was an idiot

for walking into my line of fire.

Now people go around saying

I wanted to kill the b*tch.

How do you not go to jail for that?

You still have your permit?

When you're innocent, you

can get away with anything.

Sarah?

Party's in the kitchen.

Sarah? Callie.

Callie? Sarah.

Callie is wicked smart.

She's got a PhD

in organic chemistry,

but she's sort of an alchemist.

Yeah, she's a bit granola

and crystal for me.

She reeks of patchouli oil,

but I love her anyway.

So this is it?

How do you ever get

the formula for this?

It's my own little secret recipe.

This is government stuff, isn't it?

Aren't you worried about

the dangers of taking it?

This isn't the CIA, Sarah.

We're not strapping

people down in a dark room

and scaring the f*** out of them

just to see how far

we can stretch their sanity.

This is about... freedom,

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