Dooby Rhymes with Scooby

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze 


 Part 11

Charlie was still chuckling after he replaced the phones' handset. It
started ringing one second after the show ended. He looked at Cory
already pulling Dooby toward the door of the study, "I guess you heard.
Do you mind getting breakfast for all of us? Rob and Kevin are coming too
and Scott if they can reach him. I'll go see if there's a cold bottle
of Champaign around, we have got to toast our success," he corrected
himself, "I mean your success boys, I can't imagine anyone else doing
that show."

Dooby put on the brakes wearing a questioning frown, "Wait a minute, did
Kevin and Rob stay overnight there?" he asked suspiciously and then
surmised the answer, "I'll bet they did. That's not fair, we got
kicked out and they get to stay over."

Charlie grinned and nodded, "Tommy anticipated you Dooby my boy, he said
to tell you they slept in your room, AND stayed in the room all night. If
you two were there would you have let Tom and Christian alone?"

Dooby grinned his answer, "Well no, probably not," he held up his hand
with his fingers spread, "but with us, there are extenuating
circumstances, our rings match remember Gramps? We still need to," he
groped for words suitable for Laura to hear, "ah, do something about

Cory started giggling, "Extenuating? Where'd you get that big word so
early in the morning?"

Dooby turned haughty and looked down his nose at his little lover, "It
just so happens you ignorant duffus, that I know lots of words with more
than four letters in them, I even know a few four letter one's that
don't start with `f' or `s'," he joined Cory in laughing, "but
those aren't my favorites." He suddenly reversed their rolls and began
pushing Cory up the hall toward the kitchen, "Speaking of which, you
know we've been getting up way too early two mornings in a row, we
definitely need to slow down and practice my vocabulary in bed."

Laura's face reddened, "Oh my, this is definitely getting to be a long

Charlie agreed, "I've been saying the same thing for two days and now
that the show appears to be a success," he left the thought unfinished.

"WE HEARD THAT!" Cory and Dooby sang together from the hall.

"Autographs for the family are free today only, but starting tomorrow
let's try for ten bucks!"

"Yeah! We'll have to get a couple of Sharpie pens. I wonder if
writer's cramp is covered by workmen's compensation." Cory asked.

"A couple? We better get a case!"

"QUIET ON THE SET!" Dooby shouted. He and Cory stood behind Tom's gas
grill. The lid had been removed temporarily so the camera could see the
big rib roast turning slowly on the rotisserie. Both wore their Spelling
jerseys and both were sweating in the noon time Sunday sun. "We're
actually having a cookout today and decided to show you another great way
to fix a roast." Dooby began the short segment that was to be inserted
into the roast beef show that they finally finished on Friday afternoon.
Thursday was scheduled, but when they all went to the Spelling offices
after the impromptu breakfast party, the phones started ringing as soon
as the switchboard opened and calls continued to backup on the eight
hundred lines all day. Charlie installed Cory and Dooby in his office and
left them alone to handle the flood of phone calls.

Then Friday afternoon after the show was in the `can', professional
jargon Scott used to mean completing the `shoot' and instructing Dooby
to shout, "THAT'S A WRAP!" there was a whirlwind of activity in and
around the Patterson-Dunn home to get ready for the cookout on Sunday.
Tom proved his organizational skills by producing lists of things to do
and buy he'd written in consultation with Cory, since Cory was the one
in the group most at home in the kitchen and was equally well organized
and fond of lists.

Tom read the first item on his list of assignments, "GET ALL THIS SHIT
OUT OF OUR KITCHEN!" he shouted from the great room with his eyes on
Scott. "The next show will be taped in your loft on the new set. I've
got a double shift of men working on that until it's finished." Very
little was to be acquired from Spelling's since Charlie insisted and
even included free shopping as one of Tom's perks in his contract and
Tom wasn't comfortable with having Charlie pay for a cookout. Ground
sirloin, chicken, Italian sausage and giant all beef hotdogs were waiting
to be picked up at the local meat market Saturday. Maine Lobster, fresh
shrimp and cherrystone clams would be delivered, packed in ice in
Styrofoam coolers late Saturday, and appropriate freshly baked rolls
would be collected early Sunday morning from the bakery. Cory started
making potato salad and coleslaw Saturday. Kevin and Rob were sent off to
pick up the meat while Tom and Christian went to play golf with Charlie.
When they returned everyone was going to pitch in to help clean the
house. Dooby disappeared as soon as they climbed from the Tahoe after
Christian brought them from Charlie's. Tom looked around, "Where is
Dooby anyway?"

Scott grinned and nodded toward the pool, "It looks like he escaped
already." They looked out in time to see Dooby's head appear briefly
he was wearing a dive mask and snorkel. He disappeared just as quickly.

Christian started to open the door, "I'll get him out of there, he's
not getting out of cleaning."

Tom chuckled, "He isn't, getting out of cleaning I mean, he's cleaning
the pool, see the vacuum hose? Watch this, Uncle John, his dad told me
about how he does it." Over a minute went buy. Dooby bobbed up for a
breath of air and sank again.

"Sonofabitch," Rob marveled, "he'll be dragging ass by the time he
gets done." He giggled at Cory, "It looks like you'll get a good
nights' sleep tonight little bro."

"Don't count on it. He does it like that for exercise and to burn off
excess energy," Tom shrugged at the expressions of disbelief. "Taking
care of the pool is his job and he's doing it."

The next time Dooby's blond head surfaced he looked at the house and saw
them watching him through the windows. He gave them the finger, frowned,
spit the snorkel's mouthpiece and shouted, "I DON"T NEED AN AUDIENCE
saw was his finger again and the flash of flippers on his feet.

When Kevin and Rob returned from their errands, the gates were open and
Dooby was mowing the lawn outside along the road with his eyes on the
side of the mowing deck. He saw them but ignored them until they stopped
with a window down. Both were laughing at him. He stopped, shut the big
machine down and screamed in the sudden silence, "WHAT?"

Rob giggled, "Hey that mower looks like fun. Can I take a turn?"

"No you can't. This is my ride. Just go on about your business, errand
boys with drivers' licenses," Dooby declared in an envious huff and was
about to start the engine again while they continued to sit and laugh.

"What now?"

"Nothing, except of course you know that you're outside the gates
naked?" Kevin asked.

Dooby grinned, showed them a gate opener remote and quickly looked both
ways along the country road, "Yup, out here only takes two minutes and
it's a hassle to put on shorts. Get out of the way so I can finish
before I get caught." He started the mower before they could continue
the conversation. He left them to travel the scant hundred feet on the
other side of the drive before he could turn to retrace his course to the
gate and safety. When he reached the end of the strip, he turned suddenly
into the road so he could push both hand controls forward for maximum
speed on the pavement.

Bernice Patterson, Tom's mother slammed on her brakes to avoid a head on
collision with the big lawnmower. She was grinning, following the mower
slowly because she thought Tom was operating the machine. Both Dooby and
her son were blond and wore their hair the same, messy, never combed for
long and in constant need of a trim in her opinion. Dooby pulled back on
the steering handles hard and the machine responded by stopping and
instantly starting backward just inches from the Lincoln Town Car's
front bumper.

Surprise first, and then pleasure showed on Dooby's face when he
recognized his aunt. He shut off the machine without otherwise moving.
His long legs were stretched out and he was leaning back in the high back
armchair seat. Feet weren't required to run the mower, just both hands
simultaneously. "Aunt Bernie! Wow, you scared the, err, crap out of me!
Uncle Tommy said you were coming home sometime this weekend and here you
are. Do you think you'll have time to make your baked beans for the
barbecue tomorrow?"

"Dooby! I thought you were Tommy, I was going to surprise him when he
turned," Bernice called out the open window before she did a classic
double take when she really looked at him sitting on the mower. She
looked away into the woodland across the road, "Dooby dear, you're
naked, why is that?" She called to the trees to avoid looking at him.

He tugged futilely at the towel he was sitting on but couldn't use it to
cover himself without standing and exposing himself further, so he
compromised with a limp hanging corner over one thigh, "Yeah, well, I'm
working on my tan, it's cooler, I'm saving on laundry and besides Aunt
Bernie, you weren't supposed to be driving along this road just now,"
Dooby answered weakly. "Maybe I better get inside the gate before
someone else comes along. We'll see you tomorrow anytime after ten
o'clock okay?" He started the engine and wheeled around the side of the
car, "BAKED BEANS!" he shouted as he passed the open window wearing a
red faced grin. Bernice nodded.

The sun went down and darkness fell. The house was immaculate, the pool
and spa were clean, the deck was washed and all the new flowers were
watered. Dooby seemed to be everywhere at once the whole day. He'd think
of something, stop mowing, complete the forgotten duty and then resume
mowing again. Cory got out an untouched cold roast and all the makings
for sandwiches on hard rolls and still the sound of the mower continued
out in the Lacrosse field. Scott went to get Dooby. He ran back in almost
instantly, "Hey guys, you've got to see this."

They went out to the edge of the pool deck to look down the slope at the
field. They all started laughing. All they could see of the mower was a
powerful spotlight Dooby was using as a headlight, racing along the
length of the field. It spun around almost instantly at the end and began
speeding for the opposite goal. "He must have found my spotlight in the
garage. Come on. We'll have to drag him off that mower. He's got
another hour to go."

Cory grinned, "Don't bother, I'll get him." He ran back to the
kitchen and made a sandwich. When he returned to where the guys were
standing he carried a flashlight and the sandwich. He waved the flash
light to get Dooby's attention. They saw the mower slow, stop and turn
toward them. The powerful spotlight beam moved up the slope and stopped
to illuminate Cory waving the sandwich. The mower raced toward them
before it turned for the garage. The engine sound died in echoes from the

Dooby sat at his place at the breakfast bar, sighed, and licked his
fingers one at a time after he finished his second sandwich. "Your
mom's bringing baked beans tomorrow," he told Tom out of the blue.

"Mom's home? How? I mean where?" Tom looked flustered. Dooby explained
how he'd been caught outside the gates with a resigned shrug at the
laughter from the guys.

Tom wasn't laughing, he looked worried, and "You guys are out, at least
to everyone coming tomorrow, all except my mother and some people Charlie
introduced us to today, who want to meet you two birds. Mom doesn't know
about me."

The laughter died. Kevin studied the floor, "My parents don't know
either. Rob and I have been talking about driving out there for a long
weekend and just getting it over with before we even take our bags out of
the truck, you know, like to save a trip."

Rob draped a big arm over Kevin's shoulders, "Maybe they'll be more
understanding than my father. He hasn't talked to me in a year. My
moms' been working on him, but the last time I was home, my mother
invited me for dinner," he interjected the reason, "well he went
fishing, and he hates fishing. He's bent out of shape because of
grandchildren. Shit, like all of a sudden I decided I wanted to be gay
just to spite him. Italian fathers are tough, but on the brighter side,
I'm still alive."

"Do they live near here?" Dooby asked, when Rob nodded Dooby continued,
"Invite them over tomorrow. If you can get him here, maybe my dad and
Christian's could talk to him. Shit my dad's got the old double whammy
on him, my older brothers' gay too, so he's got two of us to put up
with. My dads' not happy about the kid thing either. My sister is his
last chance. You should see how he eyes up Jennifer's boyfriend," a
giggle escaped, "one minute he threatened to kill poor Lane and the next
he gave him a summer job to keep him nearby, but really to keep him
separated from Jennifer at least during the day since they started
fucking around like a whole herd of rabbits." He looked at his watch and
smacked his forehead, "Shit I was going to make brownies." He looked
hopefully at Cory, "We'll come over extra early tomorrow and do it

"When did you plan on finishing the mowing?" Cory questioned with a
smile. "We'll come early, you mow and I'll bake."

Dooby nodded, "That's a deal, and Mom's bringing a big Black Forest
cake so we should be okay for dessert." He yawned legitimately, "Hey
can someone take us home? If we have to get back here so early, we need
to get to bed or we won't have time to do anything but sleep. I have to
squeeze some oranges or poor Sprout will be all congested tomorrow and
you know what that means." He waited for someone to ask the obvious, but
no one did, they just waited. He laughed and hugged Cory, "It means that
the big old bean stalk will start growing whenever it feels like it
straight up out of his cute little tank suit."

"I'm not wearing a tank suit tomorrow smart ass. I've got new baggy
surfer's shorts."

Dooby looked disappointed for a second, he brightened, "New pool rule;
gay guys have to wear tank suits or get depantsed in front of all our
straight parents AND my little sister, who by the way would like nothing
better than to get a look at that prize whether any parents are around or

"I'll drop you off on my way home," Scott volunteered after the
laughter died.

Cory sat on Dooby's lap in the passenger seat. They started making out
shamelessly after Scott turned into the long driveway up to Charlie's
house. Scott frowned at them and sighed, "After we finish the roast
sequence tomorrow morning, I think I'll just bug out, I feel like a
seventh wheel around you six guys."

Both boys stopped what they were doing and looked concerned. "Invite a
friend and after everyone leaves tomorrow night we'll be eight wheels,"
Dooby suggested with a leer.

Scott shook his head, "That's the problem, I don't have a friend and I
assure you I'm human. Just watching you two now drives me nuts."

"No problem, I'll introduce you to my big brother. He'll be there and
he doesn't have anyone around that I know of. He probably does at school
or maybe not, he's kind of nerdy, you know shy and quiet but he's a
really nice guy, after all, he's put up with my shit all these years."

Scott looked interested and hopeful in the dashboard lights, "What's he
look like?"

Dooby shrugged and grinned, "Your average old guy, snaggle toothed and
bald, a college beer belly, only one nut, but that doesn't matter
because he's real short cock wise AND a needle dick." He saw Scott
wince, unsure of the truth. He continued, "He's got a nice butt though
if you like pillow asses and have a long enough cock to get through the

Cory gave Dooby an elbow in the ribs, "Can't you see you're scaring
him?" He turned to Scott, "Seriously, I've seen his picture, he's a
really good looking guy, he looks like Dooby and his sister. The whole
family is blond; they all look the same, kind of." Dooby started to
preen, "Oh no, I shouldn't have said that about the family being good
looking, Dooby's a throwback, straight to Narcissus; never compliment
him before bed or he'll spend the night in front of a mirror."

Dooby started tickling Cory, "Yeah like you never look at yourself in
the mirror."

"Stop it! I have to look in a mirror; I have to SHAVE every day."

"OUCH!" Scott laughed as he stopped in front of the house.

Dooby giggled, "I'm working on that motherfucker and just for that
unkind slam, I'm going to give you the best head job ever as soon as we
get to our room, so there!"

"What time tomorrow morning?" Scott called to their backs.

"Six-thirty, and thanks Scott!" Cory shouted before Dooby grabbed him
and threw him over his shoulder in a firemen's carry.

"THAT'S A WRAP!" Dooby shouted, and held a toothy smile waiting until
he saw Scott move his eye from his Steadicam's eye piece to indicate
that they were no longer being taped. "Man we're burning up, let's get
wet." He and Cory pulled off their jerseys; tossed them and ran for the
pool, while the very prejudiced audience applauded.

Dooby persuaded Cory to wear a Speedo, and when they arrived at Tom and
Christian's, they discovered that Scott wasn't wearing one under his
conventional bathing suit, because he didn't own one. They took him by
the arms to guide him to Tom's closet with its drawer full of the little
suits. Scott emerged looking self conscious, concerned more about the
bands of white surrounding his thighs and from his waist line down to the
tight form fitting suit than how his body looked over all. He wasn't
athletic, but was slender, wiry and both boys approved of what they saw
before it was somewhat disguised behind brightly colored nylon.

The first family to arrive was Artie and Jennifer with Lane at her side
alternately holding hands or since parents weren't yet present, just as
frequently with their arms around each other's waists and their hands
wandering freely stopping just short of sensual. Dooby frowned at Lane
when his eyes dropped to the Speedo riding dangerously low on Lane's
hips. "Didn't dad pay you yet?"

"Yeah, Friday was payday, why?"

Dooby's scowl deepened, "I was just wondering when you were going to
buy a bathing suit of your own, before you wear mine out."

"But Dooby I don't wear it all that often; I will as soon as I get to
Benson's." Lane protested.

Dooby started giggling and backed away from his sister, "I know that,
but you're wearing it out by letting Jennifer pull it down every chance
she gets when you are wearing it. Her nails are sharp, look at all the
pulls." Lane's guilty hands went automatically to the sides of his
hips; Jennifer's most favored pulling places. He bent his lanky frame to
look under his hands.

Jennifer slapped one, "You are such a duffus, so gullible, and you fell
for that!" She launched her small body at her brother and managed to hit
him in the chest carrying him backward into the pool. Dooby surfaced
screaming, turned his back to her and pulled the top of his suit out to
be sure he wasn't bleeding from where she dug her nails into his crotch
when they were under water. Jennifer grinned at Dooby's back, "You
better just layoff today or you'll really get it." She warned while she
scrutinized her long painted fingernails to be sure none were broken
after Lane pulled her from the pool. Dooby limped dramatically to the
ladder and dragged himself up to the deck. Artie stood back to the side
wearing a smile but his eyes kept traveling to Scott.

Scott was fiddling with a camera until the threesome appeared, after, he
held it limply and forgotten. He also held his breath each time Artie's
eyes touched his. Artie did look like Dooby or since he was the older
brother, the other way around, Dooby looked like Artie or would in a few
short years. Scott thought Artie was incredibly handsome, beautiful even,
too much so ever to be interested in another guy who was just average in
appearance with a face that no one would remember in a crowd. He thanked
God for reminding him to put his tee shirt back on, then kicked himself
mentally for not taking off his wire rimmed glasses, or even better,
having the foresight to put in his contacts early that morning. Compared
to Artie, Scott felt like the original ugly duckling that had matured
into a goose instead of a swan.

Dooby's wet hand on his arm brought him out of his daze, "Come on Scott
snap out of it, meet my family." Dooby squeezed his arm and winked so
Artie couldn't see it. Dooby was trying to tell him that he wasn't
going to be fooling around, that he was match making and wanted the
relationship to succeed. He started with Jennifer and Lane and introduced
them as "the future Mr. and Ms. Lane Fulton. That is if Dad has his
way." He grinned maliciously, "and if he doesn't," he giggled, "then
I guess Jennifer will be just Jennifer Fulton, Lane's almost widow."

Lane winced, "Come on Dooby, ease up and PLEASE don't start any shit
when HE gets here. We're getting along pretty well after a week of
busting my ass." He rolled his eyes, "I'm his personal helper and
we're trimming a house."

Dooby looked surprised, "Does he let you touch his tools?"

"Yeah, now, but not at first, why?"

Artie spoke for the first time, "That means you have potential. You have
good hands."

Dooby agreed, "Man does it ever, you'll know you have it made when you
graduate to the miter saw."Artie nodded absently and hesitantly offered Scott his hand, "Hi, I'm
Artie. That camera looks complicated to operate," he closed his mouth
and hoped Scott would accept the opening and respond by answering."

Scott did, "Not really it's a snap, come on, I'll show you what we're
doing this morning real quick like to finish up the next show. Did you
see the first one Thursday morning?"

Artie and Scott walked to the grill with their heads together, leaving
Dooby and Jennifer looking at each other with their mouths hanging open,
"Sonofabitch, big brother talked; he's finally growing up," Dooby
quipped with wonder in his voice. "You know it's really hard raising an
older brother," he looked down his nose at Jennifer, "AND a little

Jennifer administered a hard kidney punch and grabbed Dooby's arm, "Yes
and you leave them alone today too. Show us Uncle Tommy's house. Where
is he anyway?"

Dooby started laughing, "Old Mr. Efficiency forgot to buy booze, and a
quarter keg for dad."

Jennifer grinned and hugged Lane's arm, "Maybe Daddy will be hung over
tomorrow and take the day off. That means you'll get the day off too."

Lane burst Jennifer's balloon full of lecherous thoughts with a shudder,
"If he did get that bad, I would definitely have to go into hiding and
he wouldn't let you out of his sight the whole day."

"Yeah Jennifer, plus today is Sunday, he won't get bombed, only on
three day weekends remember?" Dooby added and swung his arm around the
kitchen, "This is the kitchen obviously," he grinned at Cory and
Christian, "and these are the scullery maids."

"Wrong, we're finished." Christian sighed, "Actually cookouts are a
lot of work considering that the cooking is supposed to be outside."

Dooby collared Cory with his arm and looked at Christian, "Good, then
you can finish giving them a tour; it is your house after all. Sprout and
I will take a swim before we start taping. Show them your rogues'
gallery." He eyed Lane's physique critically and shook his head sadly.

"What now?" Lane asked as if he was being picked on after he sucked in
his gut and puffed out his chest.

Dooby grinned, "It's too bad you're straight, you could have been
hanging there with us too." He pointed across the great room to the wall
where four identically framed pictures hung.

Jennifer towed Lane across the room by the hand while Christian followed
reluctantly after Dooby got him started with a grin and a punch in the
kidney. "Oh Lane, aren't they just beautiful?" Jennifer asked
rhetorically as she studied each myopically. "Even Dooby looks real."
Lane didn't answer. He unconsciously stood behind Jennifer and fitted
his body to her back with his arms around her torso and rested his chin
on the top of her head. Then he stepped sideways with her as she moved
between the two stacked pairs.

Dooby and Cory grinned together when they saw repeated reflexive hip
movements between Lane and Jennifer. Dooby whispered, "I'm going to
point them at our room. They can look at that by themselves before Mom
and Dad gets here, otherwise they'll explode." Cory nodded.

Dooby barely had time to finish his suggestion before Lane mumbled his
thanks, tightened his grip on little Jennifer and picked her up so her
feet dangled. He duck walked her down the hall. "And hurry up!" Dooby
called to Lane's back, "Damn first its pulls in the fabric, now he's
going to get the front all stretched out," he complained so they could

"Dooby that's gross!" Jennifer answered with a giggle before the
bedroom door slammed.

Dooby shouted imitating their mother. Then "Well, that takes care of
them for a couple of minutes. So much for the tour Christian, come on
guys let's get wet." He stuck his thumbs in his waistline, "Damn these
suits are tight, I wish we could go naked."

Christian grinned, "You could always get a larger size."

Dooby adjusted his package carefully before he allowed the elastic
material to snap back in place, his eyes traveled to Cory's bulge,
"Nah, palling around with Sprout, I need every advantage. Hey Cory meet
my big brother Artie."

Artie waved absently and was about to turn his attention back to Scott,
until his eyes settled on Cory's speed suit. He whistled appreciatively,
"Damn, you've got great taste little brother." He blushed suddenly
when he realized he actually vocalized his thought.

Dooby agreed with a giggle, "Yeah but I started to like him when he was
wearing big baggy shorts," he pointed, "that's a lucky bonus. Who

"Dooby lay off!" Cory laughed, waved self-consciously and jumped in the
pool. Dooby and Christian followed.

Artie shook his head in wonder. He looked at Scott, "Is that real do you
think? It looks real, but on such a little guy."

"Yup, it's real, not that I have a working acquaintance with it, but
these guys are all nudists." He offered his video camera to Artie after
he started to look through the camera after first settling his glasses in
his hair, "Damn glasses I didn't have time to put in my contacts this
morning, here I showed you how it works, put it on your shoulder and zoom
on the diving trampoline. Tape a few of their dives and them messing with
each other, I can always use it as we get into doing shows on grilling
and barbecue stuff in a couple of weeks." He snapped his fingers, "You
use this one when we tape the segment and I'll get out the Steadicam."

Artie focused on Dooby, who won a rough race to the trampoline ladder.
"I'm wearing mine today because I don't have prescription sunglasses.
I normally wear glasses a lot like yours because I'm too lazy to take
the time to fiddle with contacts. "Holy shit!" he mumbled when he
really zoomed in on Cory's Speedo, "You'll have to edit this. That
cock is definitely x rated. I wonder where, I mean how, I mean what does
Dooby do with THAT? I'm not sure I wouldn't be in a wheelchair after,
but what a way to go, as they say." Artie changed the subject while he
followed his brother and Cory and their antics after Christian caught
them and they ganged up on him. "I like them on you but I look like the
nerd I am."

"Huh?" Scott asked in surprise, he couldn't imagine that such a
stunning human male like Artie could be so self-depreciating.

"I mean your glasses; I think they're, well, cute, very attractive."
Artie glanced to the side to see Scott blush furiously because of the
compliment, "And you're even cuter when you blush," he giggled like
his younger brother. His attention went back to the eyepiece in time to
have the lens blocked by someone too close to see clearly. He focused on
a massive darkly tanned hirsute chest five feet away, both arms were
wrapped around large watermelons held on each shelf-like shoulder and
which served to increase the width of Rob's shoulders dramatically.

"Dooby?" Rob asked, "Oh no, not you behind the camera." He realized
the cameraman wasn't Dooby when Artie tilted his head to the side and

"Nope, I'm his brother Artie." He lowered the camera and offered his
hand to the handsome giant.

Rob swung the right hand watermelon down, palmed it and almost tossed it
to Scott. "Here Scotty, do something with this will you? I told Kevin we
didn't need two." Scott barely had time to raise both arms before the
force of the quick handoff drove him back a step and he held the melon
cradled in his arms against his chest. Rob looked back to see Kevin
following him with his attention on the guys in the pool. "KEVIN, THINK
FAST FARMER BOY!" Rob shouted as he tossed the second fruit in his
direction. Kevin barely kept it from hitting the deck. Rob shook Artie's
hand wearing a warm smile, "Man you scared me. If Dooby ever got
interested in photography we'd all have to keep our bedroom doors locked
tight." He looked up in thought for a second, "In fact that's not a
bad idea anyway; in case you don't know it, your little brother picks
some odd times at night to go visiting."

"Wait just a damn minute!" Dooby complained. He stood in the pool with
his elbows resting on the edge. He giggled, "If I was intruding, all you
had to do was tell me. All this time, and I thought I was being helpful.
You old guys get way too much sleep." He looked at his brother, "These
guys are all so undersexed, after the second or third time they think
that they're actually done for the whole night."

"Imagine that." Artie said dryly and laughed, "You just remember
little brother that I'm one of THEM."

Dooby leered, "Not yet you aren't, but stick around until after Mom and
Dad and the other really old folks leave," he winked meaningfully at
Scott, "things change."Tom arrived on the deck lugging the little beer keg. He sent Dooby and
Cory to get the ice, bottled beer, wine and a case of assorted hard
liquor from the Tahoe after Dooby negotiated beers for them both.
"Where'd you buy booze on Sunday morning?" Cory asked while he lined
up bottles on a folding table that would serve as a bar.

Tom grinned, "I didn't. I just picked up a phone order, officially
anyway. It's one of the benefits of living in a small town. Everyone
knows everyone. That man does an incredible business out of his back door
every Sunday morning."

Dooby handed out longnecks to everyone that wanted one, "How come you
bought so many different kinds of booze?"

Tom, Christian and Kevin grinned at him, Tom nodded at Christian after he
looked at his watch, and "I guess its okay to tell him now."

Christian beamed, "We played with some very important network guys
yesterday. Charlie's bringing them today. Cookin' with Dooby is
definitely going national but we don't know yet whether you'll be on a
regular network or cable channel. Both want you for a summer fill in to
start with. Whichever will see how the ratings look then make a decision
about the fall season."

"Whichever, meaning the highest bidder." Tom added before he frowned at
Dooby when he saw the dollar signs appear in his eyes. "And don't you
dare fuck with them either. They don't know you remember, except from
seeing you on the first show. One guy is really fat, he didn't play, he
just rode around with me. The guy is real southern country and is self
made like Charlie. He told me he bought a down and out radio station in
Atlanta for a thousand bucks and he borrowed that from twenty different
people. He built a media empire from that one station. He saw the
potential in cable TV before anyone and was waiting with channels ready
when the first subscribers hooked up."

Dooby looked seriously offended by the warning, "Hey Uncle Tommy,
believe me I won't, the more you guys make off this deal,"

"Is that much more you're going to pay us," Cory finished Dooby's
sentence. Both boys nodded together in total agreement. "How come you
didn't tell us yesterday after you got back from the club?"

"Because I didn't want you counting your chickens yet, this is not a
done deal, they want to see the second show," Tom explained.

"What denomination is the chicken on?" Dooby asked Cory with the hint
of a smile. "It must be on thousand dollar bills, I've never seen one
of those."

"No way dope," Cory opened contract negotiations, "the chicken is
definitely on the hundred thousand dollar bill."

Dooby giggled, "Cluck, cluck, man I just love that sound."

"Yeah," Cory agreed with an impish look at Tom, "you did say chickens,
plural right?"

Tom rolled his eyes, "I rest my case for not telling you."

Scott snapped his fingers with an inspiration, "If they want to see the
second show, I'll go cut in this last little segment as soon as it's in
the can and they can look at it this afternoon." He laughed and looked
at Cory and Dooby, who had their heads together talking quietly, "The
more the highest bidder pays, the more we all make."

Christian put an arm over Scott's shoulders and grinned at Tom, "All of
a sudden we outnumber you badly; all includes the ad agency Mr. President
of Spelling's."

Tom surprised them by laughing, "Yeah partner that's right. It really
boils down to us against Charlie. It isn't my decision since there's a
conflict of interest."

"Do you have any heavy duty aluminum foil Uncle Tommy?" Dooby asked. He
and Cory were ignoring the sudden conspiracy.

"Yeah, in the pantry, why, what are you two so serious about?"

Cory answered, "You guys are the ones counting chickens already, we're
going to catch ours first by cooking for them. We're going to have a
clam bake."

"This is Cory's idea; it'll make a great show, maybe just before the
Fourth of July. Come on Sprout let's get started before they get here.
What do we need to do?" Dooby looked at Scott, "DUH, are you guys going
to tape this or what's the story?"

Scott shook himself as if he was in a trance, "Are you guys wearing your

"No way, it's too fucking hot. This can just be a practice tape." They
put the lid back on the grill they were using to cook the roast and
rolled it out of the way, then replaced it with a second grill they were
going to use for the day. Scott told Artie to have some fun with the
video camera while he went off to get the Steadicam out of his van. When
he returned the boys were in the kitchen scrubbing clams and washing half
fryer chickens while they assigned the others to shuck ears of sweet
corn. Artie was following the action with the lens over Cory's shoulder
looking down on their hands while they both explained the importance of
scrubbing all fresh poultry and the small cherrystone clams to remove all
the sand from the cracks and crevices.

Dooby giggled, "Everyone eat lots of these little beauties today, they
put lead in your pencil and you old guys need all the help you can get."

"You mean oysters and you're supposed to eat them raw, but I think
that's an old wives' tale." Cory corrected. "Or if they work at all
its probably psychosomatic."

Dooby blinked and frowned, "Shit, I thought it was clams AND oysters.
Raw huh, I like raw oysters but I never tried clams." He giggled again,
"Of course a raw oyster looks like the stuff they're supposed to make
more of."

"Can you say stuff like that on television?" Artie whispered without
thinking about the sensitive microphone mounted on the camera.

Dooby winked and whispered back peering into the lens, "No you duffus,
but this is just a practice tape and I'm trying really hard not to say
cum, fuck and shit." Then in a normal voice, "Hey Uncle Tommy do you
have one of those little knives?"

"In the utensil drawer I think, and I also think you just did."

"Did what?" Dooby asked while he rummaged in the drawer.

"Say three of the no, no words."

"I did? Well spit on me. Artie made me do it. He's been getting me in
trouble with Mom and Dad for years. Whenever I got caught doing
something, I'd blame him." Dooby turned to his brother and punched him
in the shoulder so the camera jiggled, "and every time you'd just look
guilty, keep your mouth closed and take the heat for me. Thanks for all
those times big bro."

Artie tilted his head away from the view finder, "What's happening to
you Doob' are you growing up all of a sudden?"

Dooby shrugged, "Sorry, I guess that was kind of hokey, but I just
thought of it."

"You're welcome, but just so you know, Mom and Dad were never impressed
by that excuse and every time you used it, it made you automatically

"Guilty of what?" Jennifer asked from behind them while she combed her
damp hair with the fingers of one hand. The fingers of her other hand
were tucked into Lane's waist line just in front of his opposite hip.
She was pasted to his side under his long arm while his fingers flirted
with her bikini top. Both wore satisfied or temporarily satiated

Dooby ignored her question. He looked at the kitchen clock and leered,
"Damn, how many times?"

Lane turned red under his tan while Jennifer turned haughty, "None of
your business!" She dropped her act, looked up at Lane lovingly and held
up three fingers proudly.

Dooby nodded, grinned and put an arm over Lane's shoulders, "THREE, why
congratulations brother-in-law to be, you are definitely the right choice
for joining our family. Do you like raw clams?" he asked and offered one
playfully before he sucked it from the shell. "If you do, you'll have
to open them yourself, these things are like trying to cut open rocks,"
he smacked his lips, "but they're almost worth it."

"Put some in the freezer for ten minutes, then they're easy. I love
them, I'll open a bunch for you if you want," Lane volunteered.

"Cut the bull Dooby, you're the cook, so cook. Here take this chicken
out and brown it." The microwave sounded. Cory removed a bowl and handed
it to Lane along with a basting brush, "You keep them painted with this
stuff," he ordered. He turned on Jennifer, "And you can start getting
the stuff out of the fridge, okay?" he asked with a smile.

Dooby tried to salute with both hands busy holding a platter of raw
chicken, "Yes Sir General Sir! Are you running for the job of Napoleon,
or what's the story?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer. He
nodded to Lane and they vacated the kitchen without further argument.

Once outside, Lane giggled, "Man you're as pussy whipped as me." He
realized what he said and blushed again. "Sorry, I didn't mean that
like it sounded, I'm still in shock about you and Christian being, well
you know. And then seeing you with Cory, wow."

Dooby shrugged, "No problem, you don't need to be embarrassed by saying
shit like that. We're friends and you're right I am pussy whipped a
little, we both are kind of, we bitch and argue but we never take it to
bed because we're both too horny. Jennifer never really threatens to cut
you off does she?"

"Nope, not so far; to tell you the truth she's as horny as me. If we
ever got lucky enough to spend a whole night together I think we'd both
be dead by morning. Do you mind if I ask, well, what, that is," Lane
stammered, then blurted, "What do you guys do together, I mean Cory
looks so humongous and all. Do you ever let him?"

Dooby rolled his eyes before he grinned, "If you mean let him get on
top, every chance I get. But he likes getting it too so we switch around
a lot during the night. Cory wasn't my first, so I knew what to expect
kind of, just not how much of him I could take without getting my ass
killed." Dooby checked Lane's bathing suit from the corner of his eye.
There was a pronounced swelling. He saw his brother and Scott walk out of
the house. They both had cameras and were training them on him but
hadn't begun taping yet. "If you want to try it out sometime, top or
bottom, just say the word. I would think being bi really kind of doubles
your chances of getting nookie," he said quickly.

Lane turned away from Dooby, handed him the brush without looking at him
and ran for the pool after mumbling, "Man am I hot."

"I noticed!" Dooby hollered with a giggle, "Remember, anytime!" He
turned to the cameras and put on a beatific white toothed stage smile,
"I'm just browning these half chickens and basting them with herbs and
garlic butter, kind of half cooking them. Then when Cory gets his butt
out here with the corn and cherrystone clams, we'll make up aluminum
foil packages of, well you'll see." The grill flared up suddenly as the
chicken started to cook. Dooby stepped back from the flames. "SPROUT,

Artie stepped to the side away from the heat, ignoring the conflagration.
He turned his camera on his brother's profile and adjusted the focus to
encompass his whole lithe moving body, "Damn, little brother has
definitely grown up in all the right places. Good thing for us both that
he's living here this summer, he's way too beautiful to jerk off to in
my mind any longer," he thought and felt his cock begin to respond to
his un-brotherly thoughts and guided the lens to the growing flames from
the grill.

Dooby thought of the two pressurized squirt guns Tom bought to play with
around the pool, but since no one cared about getting wetter than they
already were from swimming they weren't very much fun. He had the
presence of mind to turn down the gas before he ran for the fiberglass
dock box where all the smaller pool toys were consolidated for the
cookout. The first one was empty, the second was half full, he pumped it
frantically while he ran back to the grill and began shooting at the
chicken from ten feet away. As he got closer, he lowered his aim, was
more accurate and the flames died.

"What did you say?" Cory called from the great room doorway.

Dooby gave him a very brief murderous look before he resumed talking to
the cameras as if nothing unusual happened, "You always have to be
careful when using gas grills," he warned his imaginary audience,
"especially when grilling chicken. The fat melts and drips and if you
aren't careful," there was a small flare up at that moment, which he
sprayed with the water gun, "you could end up with nothing to eat." He
paused to read the name of the toy manufacturer before continuing
smoothly, "That's why I always keep this Surefire Pressurized Water
Cannon made by the One Hung Low Toy Company." He giggled at his lame
joke, "That's not it really, I just can't pronounce the real name,
it's Chinese," he interjected, "handy. These are fun to use even when
there is no fire to put out, like on useless cameramen who keep taping
even when THEIR FUCKING DINNER IS BURNING UP!" He screamed at his
brother while maintaining his smile, holding the trigger down and
drenching Artie's crotch. Artie grinned, held his camera steady and
continued taping.

Scott moved to the side, focused on the stream of water coming from the
nozzle and followed it to Artie's bathing suit. The splash started to
move up Artie's body as Dooby raised the muzzle. "CUT, Dooby don't you
dare get that camera wet or this one either," he warned quickly and back
peddled to get out of range when the stream started to move in his
direction, "unless you have twenty five grand you don't know what to do
with." There was a babble of voices from inside the house as their families
started to arrive. The taping resumed, the boys assembled the promised
foil packages of chicken, a dozen clams and an ear of sweet corn after
each was painted with the basting sauce. Both talked and joked for the
cameras as they worked at a folding table. They were concentrating on
what they said and what they were doing and didn't notice their friends
and families move chairs around quietly to form a live audience until
they finished putting the packages back on the grills. There were too
many to fit on one, so they snuggled the rest under the roast. "CUT for
now," Dooby announced, "Damn its hot, time for a pool break." Cory
agreed with a nod. They both looked up when the applause started. Both
grinned foolishly and bowed, "Hi everyone, we aren't used to audiences.
We were taping this for the practice, it won't get to television. We
aren't dressed and I might have said a naughty word or two, they kind of
leak out, plus we weren't hyping any products."

There was more laughter and a ragged chorus of amazed "One or two?"

Dooby giggled and shrugged. Cory nudged his side and said quietly, "Plus
I was standing up."


"So everyone could see how tall I'm not."

Dooby pushed Cory toward the pool and some privacy, "Look man you've
got to get over worrying about this short shit. Look at Charlie, it
doesn't bother him," he laughed, "of course he's had a hundred years
to adjust." He got serious, "Look, just think about your last name
being Cory Spelling shortly. What does Gramps say? Something about being
the tallest hog at the trough, the trough being the bank I guess. That's
what counts. He hasn't said but I would bet that at some time in the
future, hopefully the distant future, you'll own all the chickens in
your new father's coops AND the fucking coops, how many are there now,
nearly three hundred? Then add in Justa Pizza, man think about that, free
pizza for life. The thing is why do you care if someone thinks you're
short, if they're fucking stupid enough to let you know what they think,
you can always squash the shit out of them somehow, like don't get mad,
get even." Someone, a stranger talking with Charlie and looking at the
two of them standing in the pool caught Dooby's eye. He turned away from
them. "Check out the dudes talking to Gramps. Two of them look like
normal business guys; I'll bet they're from the national network. Just
look at the third one, the fat one, Tom didn't say how fat, that old
geezer owns the media empire."

Cory peeked around Dooby's shoulder and straightened before he started
giggling, "He's kind of like Dad, just add three hundred pounds and sit
him in an electric scooter. I wonder where he got that Hawaiian shirt, it
must be triple extra large and the buttons are still strained to the

Dooby agreed with a grin, "Yeah but the point is he really doesn't care
how he looks in that fucking ugly shirt. Maybe he's wearing it on
purpose just to see how people react, how we'll react when Gramps
introduces us. Just think about how Gramps talks like he's illiterate at
times. I'm not laughing at this guy because he's one of those tall hogs

Cory looked over Dooby's shoulder, "Well you better look like you're
damn dog just died, because here they come."

Dooby sank under quickly and resurfaced immediately shaking his head to
get some water out of his hair. His face was a mask of solemnity. Cory
was already wading toward the odd looking foursome; Charlie, the fat man
in the scooter, and the two worried looking executives dressed in
recently purchased baggy shorts and casual pullover shirts. They flew in
from Los Angeles to make their proposal and weren't expecting to
socialize at a picnic.

"Hi Dad," Cory grinned up at them. Dooby moved to Cory's side and
leaned on Cory's shoulder with one arm.

"What were you two so serious about a minute ago?" Charlie wondered.

Cory looked to Dooby for a quick answer and was shocked when Dooby told
the truth, "Same old shit Gramps, here we are in the middle of the shoot
and duffus realizes that he's standing up alongside me instead of
sitting on his stool."

"So?" Charlie looked puzzled but actually wasn't.

"So if that was for real everyone would know how tall he was. I just got
done telling him he was one of you tall hogs at the trough and who gives
a shit anyway except to be envious, damn Gramps I'm envious." He winked
so Cory couldn't see him. Cory held his breath waiting for Dooby to
point to the water distorted bulge in his bathing suit. Dooby dumbfounded
him, "You know this little shit can vacuum under furniture without
bending down almost!" Dooby was giggling and already falling to the
side, swimming away before Cory could grab him. "And I have to bend
almost double!" he finished from twenty feet away. He glided back after
Cory gave him a double barrel finger and laughed.

Charlie and the others stopped laughing finally. "Well boys, now that
you understand that stature in business has nothing to do with height in
feet and inches, come on out of there and meet these gentlemen. We ain't
talkin' business today; they just wanted to meet you two characters
since you're the show after all." Dooby and Cory glanced at each other;
Charlie was in his country bumpkin mode. The pair of executives couldn't
quite hide slight smiles; it was obvious that they were already
underestimating Charlie. He introduced them first and they immediately
began explaining what they envisioned for the show on national
television, as if they would make the decision, ignoring Charlie's
admonition about talking business.

The fat man goosed his scooter forward aiming his front wheel at the
executive's feet. Both jumped back. "You two boys are rude cocksuckers
ain't cha'? The man said no business, but since you started it I want
equal time. He pointed to empty chairs at the far end of the pool, "Come
on lads lets us chat after you fetch us something cold to drink." He
offered the boys his hand after parking with his back to the network
executives, "Name's Auggie, August Bligh, after the month. Call me
Auggie. Always glad I wasn't born in April, May or June." He cringed,
laughed at himself and shook hands like he meant it ignoring their wet
ones. "My momma wasn't very original when I popped out. I was the last
of seven."

Dooby and Cory giggled, empathizing with Auggie and his name. "What
would you like to drink?" Dooby asked.

Auggie shrugged after checking his watch, "Two beers with a rare burger
on the side if it ain't too much trouble. It's ten-thirty already an'
a tide-me-over until lunch and one of them clam bake things is done. They
sure smell great already."

The boys found themselves running to get the drinks. "I like him
already," Dooby announced. Cory looked up at Dooby with a raised eyebrow
and a pixie grin. "What?"

"You would look like Martha Stewart if you let your hair grow, plus
you're a natural blond, that would save time at the hair dressers."

Dooby giggled, "Yeah, those assholes. Can you picture us doing a show
like hers? That's what they want isn't it. If Auggie hadn't tried to
run them down I would have laughed in their faces."

"I hope Auggie is the high bidder don't you? Of course his concept
could be just as bad."

"Yeah but at least he's got a sense of humor."

Tom and Christian were busy tending the grills. Cory looked aghast and
ran at Christian to snatch the long handled fork out of his hand, "Dope!
Use tongs to turn them over; the whole idea is STEAM! NO HOLES! Don't
you know anything?"

Christian pouted, "No I don't, not about cooking these. I'm a hot dog,
steak and burger man, that's it."

"Good, because Auggie wants a rare burger with all the trimmings
please." Dooby ordered.

Tom frowned, "That's just great. The only problem is there's no room
to cook anything until these are finished."

Dooby cupped his mouth, "Earth to Uncle Tommy," he boomed, "put these
motherfuckers in the oven to finish."

"DOOBY!" John and Betty DuBois shouted simultaneously.

The guilty party winced, "Hi Mom and Dad! I didn't see you standing so
close. Uncle Tommy would have thought of that eventually, but this is his
first big bash. He'll calm down by next month in time for the next one
to celebrate us going national."

"If you don't start watching your language in mixed company you won't
be at the next one, because you'll be dead," his father warned, then
"Did you get started on Tommy's summer kitchen?"

"I got the shop done, but I haven't had time yet, maybe tomorrow and
next week. I'll take you down there in a while; right now Cory and I are
busy kissing ass, ah, I mean butt. Did you meet Auggie? He's a pretty
cool old dude so far, but of course we haven't seen the color of his
money yet. We gotta get them drinks. How long before his burger's
ready?" Dooby asked Christian who was then loading a tray Tom held to
clear the grill of its foil packages.

Christian gave him a murderous look, "Get away from us before the dude
has to dig his hamburger out of your ass!"

"WELL!" Dooby turned haughty, before he thought of the possibilities,
"Hey Sprout, you know that's something we haven't tried."

Cory ran to the drink tubs, "Don't look at me," he giggled. "Let's
get a pail and put in extras, of course to save trips."

Dooby scooted into the house and garage, he returned with the pail used
to wash vehicles, "Good thinking partner, of course to save trips."

When they got back with the pail of long necks, the table umbrella was up
and Auggie had moved to the shaded area with Charlie, which left the
network guys sitting and sweating in the sun. Charlie winked at Cory
after checking to see that his mother was chatting with Betty. "I see
you brought extras just in case I wanted one or two; I don't so you two
can have mine if one of you will get me a real tall bourbon and water
with lots of ice."

Cory and Dooby looked at each other waiting for the other to volunteer,
"Pick a number," Cory suggested with a laugh.

Dooby stood up and sighed, "Never mind, I'll go, but one of these days
I'm going to win that fucking game of yours." Dooby ran because he
didn't want to miss anything. He handed Charlie an iced tea glass that
was overflowing with what looked like iced tea.

Charlie sniffed the drink cautiously and immediately pulled his head
back, "Dooby my boy if all else fails you can work for me as my personal

"Gee, thanks Gramps. I'm sorry I couldn't find any water but I figure
the ice will melt." He raised his bottle, "Cheers!" and took a long
pull. "Now it's your turn Auggie. How do you think we should do the
show, and please don't suggest that I try to out do old Martha in the
kitchen, I can't really cook worth shit except if Cory's looking over
my shoulder."

Charlie waved Dooby to silence, "To quote Scott, `I believe that was my
line.', but I have to agree, Martha, you ain't."

Auggie nodded and peered through the glass tabletop. Dooby was stretched
out so his little butt was balanced on the chair seat frame. His long
legs reached across to tap the front tire of Auggie's scooter with his
toes. Cory sat more upright and was turned slightly so one knee vibrated
nervously against Dooby's thigh. "Nope you most definitely ain't. I
don't think I'd touch your little cookin' show. I'd put it on as
is." He glanced at Charlie, "Your labels would have to go until you put
stores in more states so folks watchin' recognize the name. I expect the
national brands would pick up the slack more `an somewhat; edibles, pots
an' pans, clothes, shoes, even the kitchen cabinets. Nope I wouldn't
change a thing there." Dooby and Cory looked somewhat disappointed, but
were relieved that they didn't have to imitate someone else's show.
Auggie grinned, "Nope, but what I believe I'd make a show out of is the
out takes. I'd put in another crew to tape the cookin' show gettin'
made." Auggie started laughing, "I about split a gut when you dropped
that egg. A slick producer would `a cut that out, but that was
impactful. I right then started thinkin' about what else happened that
got cut but the rest of your audience will remember that egg and
associate it with you. They'll remember to watch Thursday again to see
how you fuck up again and you better somehow or they'll be disappointed.
I believe I could get an hour of pure fuckin' laughs just by followin'
you two birds around in between times like to see how you fuck around
while the stuff is cookin'. Like right now, if we wasn't here, you'd
be in that pool tryin' to drown each other an' everyone else fool
enough to get in there with you, am I right? What I'm thinkin' of is
called reality TV."

Dooby and Cory grinned and nodded. Cory burst into laughter, "Do you
want to know how he fucked up the roast beef?"

"Now don't start on me," Dooby warned before he got defensive, "We
have different ways of testing to see if its done that's all."

Everyone looked at Cory, "We have this meat fork that registers
temperature. Dooby was keeping an eye on the roast, you know sticking it
now and then, we thought. No one was paying attention. When he started
hollering that it was finished, that would be rare, we took our places
and Scott started taping Dooby taking the roast out of the oven. Scott
zoomed in on the pan sitting on the counter and guess what, there were
big chunks missing."

Dooby pouted, "It's done if it tastes done and there was still plenty
left. They were just little chunks, more like notches," he concluded

"See, something like that can't be scripted. Is that still in the

"Probably, Scott's a sneaky prick. He said the egg wouldn't be."
Dooby acted morose but couldn't hide his grin. "So you want to put on a
whole other show with stuff like that in it?"

"Yup, completely candid, pure reality, late, after ten o'clock, you
wouldn't have to watch your language, there could be a certain amount of
nudity and you'd be goin' up against `Sex in the City', `Queer as
Folk', an' all them other so called adult shows that everyone watches
includin' kids."

Cory and Dooby looked at each other, they grinned and nodded together.
Dooby looked at the two network executives, "Sorry guys, you understand
how your idea sucked the biggie don't you?"

The younger one nodded, "I told them in the office that this trip was a
waste of time. Our concept wouldn't have lasted two shows." The second
executive frowned at his partner. "Like I said, these guys aren't
acting, they plan what they're going to say, then they adlib everything
and the show comes off looking like it was live like old time TV when the
big variety shows were broadcast live and anything could happen and
did." He grinned at Auggie, "I look forward to seeing your concept on
the air. Your ratings should go through the roof."

Auggie smiled, "You ain't that old son."

"Nope, but they're putting some on DVD's now. Red Skelton or one his
guest stars fucked up somewhere on every live show and those were the
funniest parts."

"I guess we'll be on our way," the older executive stood and offered
Charlie his hand. He pointedly ignored Auggie and walked away.

Dooby looked amazed, "Hey aren't you going to stay for something to
eat? After lunch we're going to get up a Lacrosse match, it's more fun
with bigger teams. Then we're having steak and big old Maine lobsters
for dinner with I guess prime rib on the side since we just cooked a
roast for the show."

Christian whistled shrilly and held up a burger. "My turn on the
bottom," Cory volunteered and went to get Auggie's midmorning snack.

Charlie noticed his glass was empty, "I better refill this myself if I
want to be awake for lunch." He winked at Dooby and picked up the empty
pail, "One more won't hurt you I guess."

The young executive looked embarrassed by his associate's snub. He put
out his hand to Auggie, "Sorry about that, it was his idea, and he's
also my boss. I'll be taking some heat for not keeping my big mouth
shut." He moved to Dooby, "Sorry I can't stay or believe me I would.
This look's like a fun party."

"Want a job?" Auggie asked suddenly.

"Seriously? Maybe, doing what?"

Auggie cocked his head, "Maybe executive produce my new show, Dooby `n
Company or More Dooby, Dooby Behind the Scenes, somethin' like that, you
interested? Think quick or the offer's cancelled."

"I'll have to resign; I could start in say two weeks."

Auggie giggled, "Nah, I can speed that up. What's your name again?"

"Ryan, Ryan Bronson."

"HEY YOU!" Auggie shouted so Ryan's boss turned back, "Ryan here says
FUCK YOU TOO BUDDY! He'll see you in the ratings!" He took Ryan's limp
hand. Selected his middle finger and pulled it straight before he waved
Ryan's whole arm up and down. "That takes care of your resignation
don't it? Set and have a beer, get drunk, I'm plannin' to, or go take
a swim with these young yahoos, whatever, you're off the clock. We'll
talk turkey tomorrow on the plane back to Atlanta."

Ryan ran his hand over his face, "Shit, you work fast. Thanks, I'd swim
but I don't have a suit."

Dooby bounded to his feet, "No problem, Uncle Tommy's got plenty," he
giggled, "come on." He paused by Auggie, "You know if our parents
weren't here we'd be skinny dipping." He pulled his suit down at the
hip so Auggie could see his tan, "See?"

Auggie nodded, looked briefly and shifted his eyes, "I see lots boy. My
gaydar ain't broke yet, just the rest of me. I won't mind seein' more
of you boys at some point as that's about the only pleasure I got


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