This story is a follow-up to Sourswirls. It is recommended you read that story first to make sense of this one, though “sense” is very loose here.
I was surprised that a B-list celebrity such as Paget Brewster wanted to discuss my stupid blog story with her. It was silly to think she would have read it, but she did. I had sort of a crush on her, after abandoning my old one on Kristen “Buzzcut” Stewart. Then I thought she’d be mad about it. Her? Mad? It was mad to think that way.
I knocked on the door, accidentally opening it.
Paget: “It’s open, come on in!”
Me: “Ah yes, Ms. Brewster. I brought a gift.”
Paget: “Wine! You shouldn’t have. Drink with me.”
Me: “I don’t drink alcohol, Ms. Brewster.”
Paget: “Enough of the ‘Ms. Brewster’ crap! Call me ‘The Hydra.'”
Me: “Okay, The Hydra.”
Paget: “Because you like hydras, dontcha? All those heads and bad tempers. What is wrong with you?”
Me: (sweating) “Excuse me?”
Paget: “You think because I’m a celebrity I don’t have feelings? How do you think all those stock models feel being turned into weird art for your stories, Mr. Raccoon-Turd? How do you think Uma Thurman feels?”
Me: “Uma Thurman doesn’t have feelings.”
Paget: (laughs viciously) “You’re alright, kiddo. Wanna ask me only one question about my career? Maybe Criminal Minds?”
Me: “No, Community.”
Paget: “Gotta be honest, I don’t want to recall that show.”
Me: “Then forget my question.”
Me: “Wait, okay. Do you prefer voice acting or acting?”
Paget: (takes a sip) “Work is work.”
(longer awkward pause)
Paget: “So why choose me? And why a hydra?”
Me: “You’re my new Kristen Stewart, my muse, so to speak. You seem like a lot of fun, and I never meant to insult you.”
Paget: (indignant) “I’m fun? So I’m easy, is that it? Hmph!”
Me: “You see? You’re not easy. You’re horribly complex. It scares me.”
Paget: “Know what scares me? Some creep on the internet writing a story about you as a hydra. Hydras are way overpowered!”
Me: “And that doesn’t resonate with you?”
Paget: “Oh, shut up. Your wine isn’t even good. It shows that you don’t drink, Rack-On-Tour.”
Me: “I’m sorry. For the record, that insult wasn’t even good.”
Paget: “Why not just stick to dragons? They can be elegant!”
Me: “Name one elegant dragon.”
Paget: “…Probably a Pokemon. You’d know, ‘Mr. I Write Two Pokemon Stories!'”
Me: “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Paget: “Sadly, your better stuff uses real people and Japanese stuff! What is that?”
Me: (crying) “I want to leave now.”
Paget: “Look at this hydra photo! I’m a freak to you! A toy! I’m a damn woman, not a source of humor for your pleasure! Mr. Rock-On-Turn!”
Me: (sobbing) “That’s the worst one yet!”
Paget: “And so are you! Get out of my house! And take your wine with you! It’s not fit to wax my shoes with!”
As I left the Brewster estate, I wondered if Kristen Stewart would have been so mean. Probably. She hates everything.
But it made me think about celebrity worship and how we idolize those we don’t even really know. Does Uma Thurman have feelings? Was it worth dismissing someone over a haircut? One thing was certain: Paget’s cruelty made me want her more.
She was right. I am a creep.