Monday, December 17, 2012

Clint gets an Agent

Gale stood on the set of a Bob Hope picture, when Bob’s agent, Mel, a little man with a pear-shaped body, small sloping shoulders, and a large waist, walked on wearing elevator shoes. “Look what’s left over from the “House of Wax,” Bob cracked when he saw Mel. Everyone laughed, but the remark didn’t seem to bother Mel. A few jokes were exchanged, then Mel spotted Gale. She wore a long gown that gave her the vision of a New York society girl. The set was decorated like the New York nightclub, El Morocco, complete with zebra-skin covered-booths.

Mel walked over to Gale, who kept adjusting the front of her dress, showing her large breasts, while giving him a flirtatious smile. As Mel approached he tipped his small brimmed fedora, which he never removed from his baldhead. “Hello, I’m Mel Cantor.”

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Cantor, I’m Gale Lawrence.”

“Have you considered getting out of extra work and going for speaking parts?”

“All the time, Mr. Cantor, but as an agent you know it’s not easy. I studied acting and have tried to find work as an actress, but it takes a good agent to get you in the right doors,” she said, giving him a sexy smile.

“I have a script in my office. It’s a new feature that starts in a month. Come by tonight after you finish here and we can discuss a part for you. Here’s my card.”

Gale took Mel’s card and put in down the front of her dress. Mel’s eyes followed the card lustfully as it disappeared into depths of her bosom. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll see you about seven,” said Gale as Mel again tipped his hat and walked off the set.

Gale was excited about the fortunate encounter. This could be the break I’ve been waiting for, she thought. Mel Cantor can get me in any studio in town. He knows everybody.

“I’m thrilled,” said Gale into the phone. “I’m going to see Mel Cantor tonight. You know who he is? The big Hollywood agent. I’ve been thinking all afternoon how to get you to meet him. Call Candy, and have her call Jean. She’s a showgirl at the Sands, in Las Vegas.

She’s been a customer for my hot furs and is in town looking to get in the movies. I’m going to get Mel to take me to the Brown Derby. You be there with the girls and I’ll introduce you.”

“I don’t get it,” said Clint. “What does you seeing Mel have to do with me?”

“Mel Cantor is an notorious lady’s man. I’ll tell him you have a string of gorgeous girls that would do almost anything for you. I won’t come right out and tell him you’re a pimp. He’ll know that when he sees you with the girls. This is a perfect way of getting into his confidence. If I read him right, and I know I do, he’d do almost anything for some new nooky. You can book it for him, and if I’m right he’ll be booking you and me.”

“So now I’m a pimp?”

“Darling. You want to be in the movies, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“What time do you want me there?”

“Between eight and eight-thirty. Make sure you wear a suit. Leave everything to me, and sweetheart, be nice to me. I love you.” Gale hung up the phone.

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