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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Land Whore - 27. Chapter 27

November 17, 1973


There were a lot of things in the news and a lot of things happening in the world. The Watergate brouhaha, which had developed a life of its own, was disturbing and entertaining. The Yom Kippur War had been terribly sad. But nothing had impacted my life like this stupid ass energy crisis.

It wasn't the cost of fuel, although having costs soar was certainly hurting many. It was getting the fuel. Filling up my car had become a major hassle. First we had to figure out the flag system. If a gas station had a red flag flying, that meant they had no gas. If it was yellow, they had gas, but only for commercial vehicles. And if it was green, that meant they had gas, but you had to wait in line. Always. And the lines could be very long. Then, to ease the crush of the lines, they'd come out with this odd or even day thing. If the last number of your license plate was odd, you could fill up only on odd numbered days, and vice versa if you had an even numbered plate. My plate was odd, which Greg thought was a piece of poetic justice.

So two days ago I decided to go fill up my car with gas. It took me two hours. Greg thought I was crazy. He hired Alice's young nephew, who was 17, to go hang out in line and fill his car up. He was right, that's the last time I'd do that. The economist in me reasoned that these shortages were caused by the price controls on the market, and that if stations were allowed to price to the market, gas would be easy to get but very expensive.

Since we'd gotten back from Australia we'd slipped into an easy routine. I giggled inside at us, the married couple with the normal routine. I'd always sneered at those people, the suburban married people, who seemed so pathetic with their cookie-cutter lives, their cookie-cutter families and their cookie-cutter homes. Yet here I was, in a derivative of their existence, and I loved it. Greg would go to work in the morning and I'd spend my days on the phone with Jenny, conducting my business, and doing things to make our home life nice as a good wife should. Once every two weeks Luke and Cecile would come down and we'd meet and strategize. It was working well.

Jason had transformed himself yet again, and this time it was really positive. Vivienne had come out to see him with Heather and they reconciled. He had fallen in love with my Malibu house, so I sold it to him. He was raising so much money, and doing so well, he could actually afford it without me making it a charitable contribution. Jason provided the money, the financial fuel that stoked our business.

“Check this out,” Greg said, coming into the study and flipping on the television. “This is the funniest thing I think I've ever seen.” It was a Nixon speech. He had lost all credibility in my mind, and the more that was revealed about him and this Watergate thing, the less I liked him. He'd seemed like a competent, boring, family guy before. Now he seemed like a paranoid autocrat. I rolled my eyes. The last thing I wanted to see was his ugly face, but I humored Greg. I'd do anything for him.

Nixon was rambling on and then he said, quite definitively, “I am not a crook.” Greg started laughing hysterically, and I laughed along to humor him. It was funny, but not that funny. But Greg had fully internalized the liberal culture of Hollywood, not that I hadn't, but he'd taken the political side of it much more seriously.

“You going to get ready?” he asked. We were going to a party at Jackie's house tonight. I felt obliged to her to make an appearance, and I had hounded Greg to go even though her soirées weren't really his scene. He was running with a much more elite group. The irony was that their parties weren't all that different, just classier.

“Yes. Right now. I need to take a shower. Want to wash my back?” I leered at him. He followed me playfully. We had sex constantly. I couldn't get enough of him. It was always good, always different, and always satisfying. This shower encounter was no exception, unique and fulfilling.

The limo drove us up to Jackie's miniature version of Escorial. That was another thing I learned about this energy crisis. Limousines were commercial vehicles so they could get gas on yellow flag days, so it was a lot easier to just hire them.

“Darling!” Jackie said as she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. “And you brought your dreamboat with you!” She hugged and kissed Greg too. She treated me as a friend now, primarily because of Greg. In the Hollywood pecking order, she needed him a lot more than he needed her. That made him powerful and her deferential. I owed her a lot, though, and I was studiously careful to make sure she knew I was still in her corner.

The party was fun. I found that I had absolutely no desire to go to the orgy room, even though Peter tried to drag us both off. I spent my evening wandering around the party making small talk or chatting about business. It was around 10PM when I realized that Greg was nowhere to be found.

I wandered upstairs to look for him. I interrupted John Bartlett and Rock Hudson again, just like the first time, and a few other couples. I was getting really nervous. There was one more room. I paused before the door. If he wasn't in there, I'd have to go into the orgy room. What if I found him in there? I knew the answer to that. I'd be pissed and hurt. I felt the preview of that agony rise up inside of me. What if he wasn't? I'd be faced with friends, naked friends, fucking each other. Would I be able to resist the temptation? I found myself wondering honestly if I could, and then it dawned on me that if I couldn't, how could I expect Greg to resist?

I opened the door and saw bodies scurry for their clothes as I flipped on the light. There was Greg alright, with Peter. One of our safe men. I smiled and locked the door, then walked up to a smiling Peter. “Mind if I join you?” They absorbed me into their event, and we had a nice threesome.

After that, I felt strong enough to go into the orgy room to look for Armand. I found him there, but in very sad shape. He was in the middle of the room and had one guy fucking him while another was jamming his cock down his throat. There were two other guys waiting to take their places as soon as they were done. Armand was on something, what I did not know, but it was so bad he didn't even recognize me. I was pissed.

I pushed the guy out of the way who had his cock in Armand's mouth and slapped his face. He responded to me slightly, gazing at me with a hazy look. The guy behind him was pounding him, and while Armand seemed to be enjoying himself, his dick was limp. “Go fuck someone else,” I said rudely to the guy screwing him. He was about to argue with me, but I was severe enough that he knew I meant business, and there were enough other people to fuck. Armand looked slightly disappointed when the dick left his ass.

I pulled him up, naked and limp, and dragged him from the orgy room and into the room we'd just occupied. He wasn't heavy, but he was still a load to bear. I left him there and rushed off to find Greg. By the time we got back there was another guy in the room getting ready to fuck him. I scared the shit out of him, sending him packing.

“He looks completely messed up,” said Greg, stating the obvious.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I don't know for sure. It's not pot.”

“Duh. I know that. I've smoked more of that than he ever could and I never looked like this.”

“Maybe Quaaludes. We need to get him out of here.”

I wrapped Armand up in some blankets and the two of us carried him down the stairs and out the back door. The limo drove right up to the door and we dumped him in. We put the privacy screen up so the driver wouldn't see who he was. His article in Teen Beat had made his face a common icon. I made the limo driver pull up to the garage in Malibu and we pulled him out of the car and into the house.

We carried him into the guest room on the first floor and put him into the bed. He seemed completely out of it, but his condition made me nervous. Greg and I lay down with him in the bed, with him in between us. His perfect looks and beautiful body made him seem angelic; anyone looking at him would be hard-pressed to believe that he'd been pulling a train just a little over an hour ago.

His breathing was erratic, and his muscles tensed up, contorting and spasming. I watched him carefully with Greg by my side. “Should we take him to the hospital?” I asked.

Greg looked at him. “His spasms seemed to have stopped. Let's wait a little bit. If we take him in, it will be big news.”

I was about to make a really nasty retort, something about the heartless nature of this business. He was my responsibility. He was my ward. But part of watching out for him was watching out for his reputation.

For the next four hours he had muscle twitches and spasms, but they seemed to be fading. Finally he slept peacefully. Greg and I sandwiched him between us and fell asleep too.

November 18, 1973

“Aaaaahhh!” The cry of pain woke me up and I jumped out of bed, still fully clothed from last night. Armand wasn't in bed, so it must be him. I followed the scream to the bathroom where he was standing in front of the toilet peeing. I smiled at the sight of his cute little ass. No wonder he was the belle of the ball.

“What's wrong?”

“It hurts when I pee. It burns so bad. Aaaah!” Another stream came out, followed by this nasty pus-like stuff.

“Well my young friend, it looks like you have the clap.”

“Clap? What is that?”

“A venereal disease. Probably Gonorrhea.”

He looked at his dick, horrified, as if expecting it to fall off. Then a tear fell down his face, then another. I put my arm around him, pulling him into me. “What have I done to my body?” he sobbed.

“I was going to ask you the same question. But we will take you to the doctor and fix your dick,” I said, trying to add some levity. “Maybe make it a little bigger while we're at it.”

He grinned at my stupid joke. “I have had no complaints.”

“Come on,” I said, leading him from the bathroom and smacking his ass playfully. Greg was awake but drowsy when we got back into the room. “It seems our young friend has contracted a venereal disease,” I said.

Greg looked horrified. I'd encountered them before, but not since I was a kid in Paris. JP had gone through a spell with it when he'd gotten it from Jeff. Jeff had been pretty scary during his junkie days. A penicillin treatment would take care of it, no? “We have to get him on treatment right away,” Greg stated firmly.

“Then he should be alright, no?” I asked.

“I'm no doctor, but probably. The issue is that if Armand got it, that means that everyone in that circle has a good chance of having it. Maybe even Peter. Did you have sex with Peter?” Greg directed this last question to Armand.

“I do not really know. Jackie gave me two pills and told me to have fun. She led me to the orgy room. After that, everything was a fog. I remember lots of men in me, on me, and it was really good. It was like I was on a bed of clouds. But after awhile I got really sore and I could not stop them, could not do anything. I felt trapped in my own body. Then I remember someone picking me up and carrying me away, and then finally feeling safe. That must have been you,” he said, looking at me.

I smiled at him. “We brought you home.” My smile hid my fury. I had trusted Armand to Jackie. She said she was going to keep him off drugs. Instead she'd popped him a few ludes and made him the star fuck attraction at her party. Her control over him ended right now.

Greg got up and headed to the phone. “I'm sorry,” I told Armand. “I should have been there to make sure this did not happen.”

“It is not your fault,” he said. “I should have seen this coming. At the last party I did not want to be up there in the stud farm, I wanted to walk around and socialize. Every time I saw Jackie she tried to send me up there, but I did not want to go.” He paused. “It was fun at first, but I get laid now whenever I want, and I was tired of being a fuck toy for a bunch of has-been old actors. So we had a big argument after that party and she told me that if I was not going to help her out, she was not going to help me.”

I watched his face but there was no pain, only defiance. He was not hurt by this experience, he wasn't emotionally traumatized, he was pissed. Pissed off for losing control of his own body. He continued. “She cold shouldered me all week, and then at this party she was really nice, told me the 'ludes would relax me. I told her I did not want to go into the room, and she told me I did not have to. But after I popped the pills I started losing control of my body, my mind, and as I felt her guiding me to the room, I found that I did not care.” His eyes drifted off, remembering. “I'm not going back there.”

“No you're not. You're staying here with us.”

“I do not want to interfere with you and Greg. Stef, I have never seen you so happy. You are my rock, my best friend in the world. I owe everything I am to you. If I stayed here, I would try to get you in bed, probably Greg too. And you know I am irresistible,” he finished with a flirtatious twinkle. He was just like me.

“It is OK. I have special permission to fuck around with you and so does Greg, after you cure your problem, that is.”

“Really? You mean you guys talked about me and decided that I am so adorable you could not possibly resist me? And you yielded to the inevitable?” He was back to being his coquettish self. I giggled.

“That's right,” said Greg as he walked into the room. “Maybe we'll lock you in a room here and just use you as our own personal fuck boy.”

“OK,” said Armand. I laughed.

“We need to get you cleaned up and dressed. A friend of mine who is a doctor wants to take a look at you and give you a shot.”

“I do not like shots,” Armand said with a frown.

“Do not be a wuss.” I told him. “In the meantime, I will go up and deal with Jackie.”

“You may want to let me do that,” Greg said.

“I think I can handle it. If not, I know where to go for reinforcements.”

Greg took Armand off to the physician while I drove up to Jackie's house. She was not happy to see me.

“I heard you took that little shit home with you after you broke up my party upstairs,” she said.

“I did not break up your party, I merely removed Armand. Your reason for keeping him here was to keep him off drugs. In fact, you gave him Quaaludes and almost caused him to overdose on them. You endangered his life to have him star in your fuck fest of a party. You have lost your right to watch over him. He is moving in with us.”

“You don't dictate to me, I dictate to you,” she screamed. “If he isn't back here in two hours, his career is over.”

“That may very well be true, if you are willing to risk it. But regardless, he is not coming back, and I am taking his things with me.”

She absorbed the veiled threat. It was real, and she knew it. “So this is how you repay my kindness? I made you successful in this town. I made you what you are here. And I made Armand. You are a fucking ingrate.”

“I never said that I did not appreciate you, and I never said that I was not grateful for all that you've done for me. All I've said is that I'm assuming responsibility for Armand, and he's moving in with me. You are the one making the threats.” I paused for effect. “Did I tell you that I did not want you to represent him? Did I tell you that I did not still want to be your friend?”

“You came in here to order me around, to take charge. I'm in charge God damn it!”

“Well, that's not true. You are not 'in charge'. You have violated my trust and you have abused a member of my family. But I am indebted to you, so I will overlook those things. But know this. We are even now. The next time we meet, the next time we do business, we do it as equals. That's the deal, take it or leave it.” She was shaking with fury. “While you think about it, I'm going to go up to Armand's room and pack up his things.”

I grabbed her housekeeper and asked her to help me. She brought up boxes and we packed up all of Armand's things. The guy who worked in the yard came up to load the boxes in the Rolls Royce. I'm glad I took that car instead of the Mercedes. As it was there was stuff in every nook and cranny of that car. It looked pretty ridiculous, a fancy Rolls Royce with boxes piled in it, making it look more like a the car of a college kid heading back to school.

As I was leaving, Jackie was waiting for me, considerably calmer. “I'll take your deal. The only reason, though, is that I like hanging around with you, so you have to promise to still keep me company at the studio from time to time.” That was as close to an apology as I was going to get from her.

“But of course, who could resist you?” I said, pouring on the charm as I kissed her on the cheek. And then I was out of there, and so was Armand.

When I got home, Armand and Greg had still not returned. That surprised me, and worried me. Alice said they hadn't called yet, though, and they certainly would have done that if there were a problem. I called Peter.

“Hey Stef,” he said cheerfully. I was so happy that Peter and I, despite all of the bullshit we'd been through, had ended up as good friends. The fact that I was making him a fortune on his investments helped I'm sure.

“Hey Peter. I need to ask you something. Did you fuck around with Armand recently? Or with those guys in the room last night?”

“Why? Am I not supposed to?” He was defensive.

“No Peter. I'm sorry, I did not mean for it to sound that way. It's just that we brought Armand here last night. He's moving in with us.”

“Lucky guy,” said Peter, joking.

“Yeah, lucky, except he's got the clap.”

“What?” I repeated myself. “Shit. If he's got it, there's a good chance that most of those guys have it, and me too. Fuck. I screwed around with you two last night. I'm so sorry Stef. If I'd have known...” I cut him off.

“Peter, I know that. I know you'd never do anything like that on purpose. I guess we're all going to need to get checked. Let me know how your test turns out.”

“You got it Stef. I'll call you as soon as I know.” I hung up the phone and felt really dirty. The thought that there could be an insidious disease inside of me, flowing through my veins, was scary as hell. I found that I was imagining symptoms.

I went to the bathroom and looked at my dick carefully. Were there any sores? Then I squeezed it, and a drop of fluid appeared at the tip. Was that the beginning of a discharge? Or just some pee? Or some other fluid? It wasn't painful when I peed, or was it? I pulled up my pants and headed out into the other room, fighting off the paranoia that threatened to completely envelop me.

I found a subdued Greg and Armand waiting for me. “The doctor gave him a shot, and he gave me one too, just to be sure.” He pulled out a little leather pouch and took out a needle. “Drop your pants and bend over.”

I did as I was told. “Usually this is the prelude to something much more fun.” Armand giggled.

“Three days from now we have to do this again, and then once more three days after that. Ten days from now we can have sex again.”

“Ten days!?!”

Greg laughed at me. “That's right stud. Beating off is all you're allowed to do.” I thought about that. We could make that fun if we had to.

“In the meantime, you get to exercise,” I told Armand. “All of your stuff is in Greg's car.”

“You cleared out my room for me?” He hugged me. “Thanks. Is Jackie still my agent?”

“She is. But you're staying here with us, under my personal supervision. And you're going to have to start working on school. You need to at least finish high school.” He sighed at me as rebellious 17-year-olds do, but resignedly headed out to lug the boxes up to his new room.

He was walking through the house on his third trip. “Damn, there's a lot of stuff.”

“I'll help you,” said a voice from the direction of the kitchen. A very tall blond kid came into the room. Except for his height, probably at least 6'3”, he was ordinary. Nice hair, but a little scruffy. Nice face, but not gorgeous, with some acne. Nice body, but nothing special. He was too lanky to look muscular. “I'm Scott Palladin,” he said, extending his hand to Armand.

“Armand de Guipry,” Armand said, putting down his box to shake Scott's hand. “Well, I'd really appreciate the help.” Scott nodded and headed to the car to grab a box.

“Is that Alice's nephew?” I asked.

Greg nodded. “He uses our address as his residence so he can go to Malibu schools. His parents are losers and live near LAX.”

“How does he get to school?” I asked.

“How should I know?” responded Greg. I smacked him for his lack of concern. Greg was oblivious to the operation of his household, which was why I'd taken over most of it.

“You should not, since I'm in charge of the house.”

“You? In charge?” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that not the role of a good wife?” I teased. “As of right now, the household is my responsibility. And you are not allowed to meddle.”

He liked to be in control, so I knew this would irritate him. Still, I knew that once he was done being pissed off, he'd be happy. A little pain for a lot of gain.

I sat on the couch reading papers that I'd need to be familiar with for my meeting with Jenny tomorrow. Scott worked like a pack mule. He made at least two trips for every one trip Armand made, and finally he took over and carried all the boxes. Apparently Armand was putting the stuff away while Scott carried it up.

“Excuse me, Mr. Schluter?” I looked up to see Scott staring at me. We'd never really been introduced before. I stood up and shook his hand.

“It's Stefan, Scott. Nice to meet you.”

“Yes sir, I mean Stefan, it's nice to meet you too.”

“Thanks for helping Armand with his boxes.”

“It was no problem. He sure has a lot of stuff.”

“Yes he does.”

He shifted his feet nervously. “I was wondering if you needed gas in any of your cars.”

“I think Greg's car could use a fill up. You know where the keys are?”

He nodded. “Mind if I ride along?” Armand said, coming down the stairs.

Scott got a big grin. “Not at all. Company would be great.” I tossed Scott some money. “Feel free to use the change to grab some food or something while you're out.”

November 19, 1973

I wandered down to the kitchen. It was early, very early, and I needed some tea to wake up. I didn't finish my reading, so I got up to make sure I was done when Jenny got here. She'd make it at around 10 or 10:30. I was heating water, something even I could do, when a very bedraggled looking Scott came in. He froze when he saw me.

“Morning Scott,” I said. “Did you spend the night last night?”

“Uh, yeah, I hope that was OK. I hung out with Armand and it got late so he let me crash on his floor.”

“Well you are more than welcome to stay over, but next time make yourself comfortable in one of the guest rooms. You can take a shower too, if you want.”

“Thanks Mr., er, Stefan.” He smiled. He had a goofy grin that was incredibly engaging. “No time for a shower. Gotta get to school. I was lucky today. I got to sleep in.”

“What time do you normally have to get up?”

“About 5AM, so I can make the 5:30 bus. That gets me to school at 7AM, in time for basketball practice.”

“Will you be around after school today?”

“I will if you need me.” I could tell he wanted to be here, but he wasn't sure. Armand hadn't invited him over.

“It would be great if you could fill up my car for me,” I said. I had half a tank, but what the fuck.

“Excellent. I'll see you after classes.” And he whisked out of the room. He sure could move fast.

Alice was the next one up. “I'm sorry Stefan. If I would have known you were getting up early, I would have gotten up and made your tea.”

“Thanks Alice, but I'm fine. It's kind of refreshing to know I can still boil water.” She chuckled.

“Did I hear Scott?”

“Yeah, he helped Armand out yesterday and ended up staying over.”

“I'm so sorry about that. He likes it here, but he hangs around too much. I'll run him off so he doesn't get in the way.” She seemed really worried, like I'd be mad about him being here. She was off yesterday, so she didn't know that Armand was back.

“Why would you be sorry? Armand had a rough weekend, and Scott was good company. Plus he helped him unload all of his boxes. Armand is moving in with us.”

“He's a nice boy. I better stock up on some extra food. These boys sure do eat a lot.”

“Does Scott spend a lot of time here?” I asked. She got really nervous. “It's OK Alice. Please relax. I'm not upset. He seems like a good guy.”

“He is, but my sister is a disaster. She and her husband live on welfare, and they've got an apartment in government housing near LAX. It's a horrible environment, but Scott has coped really well. He's a lot tougher than he seems. Mr. Anders let me list this as his residence so he could go to Malibu schools. It's a little hard for him though, because he has to hide where he really lives. That's why he comes here a lot. His friends pick him up here, and think that he lives here.”

“Well, as far as I'm concerned he's more than welcome. And I'm taking over the household accounts, so I guess that means I'm in charge.”

“Is there a problem? I always try to get my receipts and I don't let Scott eat too much.” This poor woman was paranoid.

“Alice, there is no problem. I just really love Greg, and I want to do everything I can to make his life easier. So this is just part of it. And I want you to make sure you stock up on lots of food for Scott and Armand. Got it?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. She started breakfast while I looked through the checkbook Greg had for his household expenses. I got to the payroll and found that he was paying Alice about half of what we had paid Consuela.

“Alice, how long have you been working for Greg?”

“Let's see, I'd guess it's been about five years now.”

“And when is the last time you got a raise?”

“Mr. Anders hasn't given me a raise but that's OK. I have a nice place to stay. I'm fine.”

“Nonsense. You're getting a raise effective with your next check.” She grinned and went about her business. Greg wasn't a bad boss, he just didn't pay attention. You had to point things out to him.

Jenny showed up right on time and we went through all of the papers that she had. She was all business. She was there until about 4pm, then caught a cab back to the airport. I was giving input and guidance, but the people I had trusted were running their companies. I felt bad, like I should be providing more leadership, but my absence had allowed Luke and Cecile to really rise to the challenge.

Scott came in to get my keys right after Jenny left. He had Armand in tow. “You guys ready to go?” I asked.

“We are,” said Armand.

“What is your work week like?” I asked.

“Jackie called this morning and told me that I've got some modeling shots for Christmas products this week, and then things quiet down until after Christmas.”

“Excellent. I want to see about enrolling you in school.”

“I do not want to go to school,” he said.

“Armand, it's pretty cool. You might like it,” Scott interjected and got a dirty look for his support.

“Do not make me spank you,” I said. Armand giggled and Scott blushed. “Go run your errands; we will have time to deal with this stuff later.”

“Can Scott stay over tonight?” Armand asked.

“Of course. Why do you not set him up in the guest room upstairs?” They both smiled and ran off.

When Armand was around Scott he acted like a teenager, and that's what he was. I needed to remove him from this Hollywood nightmare and give him something approaching a normal life.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Sometimes a kid just needs to act like a kid and yes, even being 17 makes you a kid... I really like how Stef has stepped up and decided to be more responsible in some way other than business. I think caring for Brad as much as he does has rubbed off on how he views others...

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Poor Armand, what Jackie did was low, not surprising but low none the less. He's better off with Stefan and now that Stefan is based in Malibu he can offer a lot more stability. Thanks for the update.

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Steph has his hands full now, with Armond living with him and Greg then there's Scott who is Alice's nephew staying there as well. Steph had trusted Jackie to be a good caretaker for Armond and that turned out to be a very bad idea. Steph is really stepping into the role of a housewife of sorts.

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I remember the long lines at gas stations and how upset we were when the price of gasoline leapt from 25 to 30 cents a gallon. At today's price of a nationwide average of about $3.25/gal. that seems humorous. Today the US with its shale oil production has replaced all the Near Eastern countries, both individually and as a group as the world's largest supplier of fuel oils, and the Venezuelan problem has nearly bankrupt that country because the price of oil has fallen into the $50/bbl area and the Venezueas economy was based on prices well over that.

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Chapter 27

When Stefan describes the trials of 1973- the Yom Kippur War, the economy, the Long Gas lines, and Richard Nixon.

"Devil's Answer" by Atomic Rooster

-When Stefan and Greg go to one of Jackie's famous Hollywood "networking" parties.

"China Groove" by Doobie Brothers

-When Stefan and Greg find Armand, who is completely strung out after too much drugs and sex.

"The Jean Genie" by David Bowie

-When they deal with the fallout the next morning, which includes the discovery of VD and Stefan moving Armand out of Jackie's house.

"Morning After" by Maureen McGovern

-Armand moving in with Stefan, being forced to live like an actual teenager, and making friends with a nice 17-year old boy named Scott.

"Stuck in the Middle With You" by Steve Miller Band

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