I shoulda joined the FBI
Instead I'm gonna dance
I should be Valentino
But he's been long interred
"Special Agent Sheik?"
she asked, "What do you make of this
Surrebuttal?"
I said nothing.
You know what happens when I
Open my mouth.
And so I tangoed, over to
Ms Ayres' star
6504 Hollywood Boulevard
Passerby, agape, whom I was awing,
through intertitles exclaimed I'd never turned a finer role:
Resurrected Investigator of Forgotten Stars
But in truth it was the forgetful I was tailing.
How can they doesn't remember your
Lady Diana Mayo? What then future they walkabout?
"Off her star!!" I started to holler, my voice none so awful after all that. "At least wear some rubbers on your feet, the kind with my face on 'em!!!" I cackled, twirling a sword while deflecting homogenizing binary code and the glinting gaze of their handcameras with an unspooling film reel somehow still in the can. Of course they hadn't a clue or a care. Tomorrow's youth, today. Wholly ignorant of the Sheik no matter how merchandized. Still I screamed "Quiet," ironically.
The results were ideal.
But the process proves arduous, one tongue at a time.
A. A. arise now from Forever: Hollywood Forever where what become have we but backdrop?! Still as young as you left, after short madness. Younger ever am I, and inflamed.
You should have stayed at Essanay, made comedies. I shoulda stayed at Quantico, finished me training. Now I'm just a renegade charmer, chasing down injustice and reinstating silence.
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