SF. Pt.12b. Oscar goes ballistic.

I’m watching the girls splash around in the pool. It’s nice to see Thais and Brazilians getting along so well. But my reverie is rudely interrupted.

‘Bastards,’ screams Oscar, ‘fucking cock-sucking turds that’s what they are!’
‘Something wrong?’
‘They’re making porn free that’s what’s wrong. On the internet!! Damn them and their smartass applications! Bells and whistles Dick, bells and whistles. Why can’t they stay out of the porn business at least?’

Oscar has waddled out to the pool. His knickers are well and truly twisted I can tell. I don’t really need this at the moment. Some of the girls are creating an intriguing tableau on the springboard plus I’m still not sure what happens when Arthur gets back from India. I want to get it written so we can move on to the London pop scene circa 1965.

‘The porn business isn't what it used to be Dick,’ Oscar opines, ‘Too many fly-by-night operators. The money’s still good but the quality’s just not there anymore.’
‘The hands-on stuff you mean?’
‘And the backdoor stuff. They’re all wankers now. That’s what they are Dick. Wankers.’
‘Don’t worry about it. You had the best years. And it’s not as if you’re the next Ron Jeremy is it?’
I’m trying to calm the waters but the mention of Ron Jeremy provokes another explosion. Oscar hates Ron Jeremy.
‘Fuck Ron Jeremy.’
‘No thanks.’

Young narrators often ask me how I do it. How do you manage to sound so natural Dick they ask? What’s the trick? Well there’s no trick to it really. I just narrate like I talk. Course that doesn’t always mean I know what I’m talking about but if I get the tone right nobody minds too much. So here we sit. Two old drunks stuck on a private island discussing the state of the porn industry. Then Oscar starts moaning about being misunderstood and how nobody cares about him.

‘White women especially. They hate me! They think I’m just a fat, rich, ugly, old chauvinist, exploiting third world women.’
‘Very unfair.'
‘The truth is I’m helping them Dick. Improving their lives. Look how happy the girls are. I even let them use my credit cards. People think it’s easy being a rich old useless arsehole Dick. They don’t realize how I suffer. The boredom for one thing. Do they care? No. I spend countless hours on the internet trying to relate to the rest of humanity and even that gets boring as hell. I’m disgusting Dick. Vile. Contemptible. Don't laugh. Everything's a bloody joke to you isn't it Headley?’
‘Depends. Have you ever considered suicide Oscar? Doing a Hunter Thompson?’
‘Every day Dick. Every day. But is there any future in it?’
‘Wouldn't know mate. But imagine the relief. No more unanswerable questions, no more moral ambiguity, no more ephemeral relationships, no more self doubt. Finally free. Think about it Oscar...nothing but endless oblivion.’
‘Well you certainly do make it sound very attractive Dick,’ says Oscar sucking on some brightly coloured drink with fruit and little Japanese umbrellas sticking out of it. ‘One of these days I just might.’

It occurs to me, not for the first time, that Oscar might not be a very nice person. I wonder why I put up with it sometimes. Old times sake I suppose. I met him at Altamont on the Stones tour. He was selling acid and we sort of stayed in touch. I don't mind how he looks. And quite frankly I couldn't care less what he gets up to in the privacy of his own ensuite bathroom. I don’t even mind the foul language and the sexism. If it means getting shunted off to Certificate 18 I’ll deal with it. What really gets on my tits is when he’s maudlin. I can’t stand maudlin.

So I let him rant. It’s his island after all and to tell the truth I’m not much interested in his problems. I just park my boat here. I can always go off sailing or move over to Tortola if he gets too annoying but at the moment all I want to do is watch the girls splashing in the pool and get on with some narration. I’ve got Simon in the Mountain grill pondering his future and Arthur back with his parents. Can’t leave them like that. There are a lot of loose ends to deal with and this is supposed to be a novel. Finger out Dick.