TWO SAUCERS OF STRYCHNINE

**WARNING: A tad profane, though in keeping with the times. **

* * *

The telephone was ringing off the hook in Louella Parson’s penthouse suite. If a ringtone could fit the caller, this one would spit nails.

“Hellooo,” trilled Louella.

“Don’t hello me, you backstabbing little ingrate.”

“Why, is this the Queen of Hollywood Gossip? Oh no, I forgot. That’s me." 

“I have a bone to pick with you.”

“That’s hardly news, Hedda. You’ve gnawed on more bones than all the beasts at the San Diego Zoo.”

“And don’t you forget it, Louella.”

“It may surprise you to learn, my dear Hedda, that I actually have more going on in my day than to waste any of it thinking about that haunted fun house you like to call yourself.”

“That’s ‘the house that fear built,’ and you know it. That act doesn’t cut muster with me. You play the dim bulb so people will leave their guard down.  I’ve seen it a million times and, frankly, find it excruciatingly boring.”

Louella opened and surveyed the contents of an enormous box of bon bons.

“You know, being first to go to press with a fresh scoop of bad behavior, I don’t find that in the least boring. I’m thriving; so what’s your excuse?”

“Hah!”

Louella nibbled a candy, then put it back.

“Or maybe that’s something you haven’t experienced lately? You’ve probably forgotten how rewarding it can feel. I suppose you should be forgiven for being so out of joint.”

“The only thing that’s out of joint here is a story that I know you’re planning to print. I’m just warning you you’ll be laughed off the page because it isn’t true. I have it on good authority, the best.”

“Why, what’s the matter, dear Hedda, hat too tight? Don’t try pretending you’d help me out of some phony sentiment for the few days we worked together. Besides being long ago, you didn’t supply me that many delectibles when you were acting, though I did give you more byline than you ever would have enjoyed otherwise.”

“I do like to let you ramble, Louella, as you tend to do when you harken back to your glory days. Well, I can tell you if you go to print with the Bergman story, you will be very sorry and there’s nothing I can do for you.”

“Do stop, Hedda darling, you’ll have me in tears if you continue to pursue this touching display of philanthropy. I won’t know to whom I am speaking in a moment.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

Louella pried another bon bon from the box.

“And you’re barking up the wrong tree.  You can keep your bone, Fido.”

“Arggh.”

Click!

Fine. We’ll just see then who’s gotten the straight scoop. Ingrid told me to my face that she was not carrying Rossellini’s baby. So, print at your peril, you ungrateful witch. I won’t try helping you again!

* * *

INGRID BERGMAN BABY DUE IN THREE MONTHS IN ROME

* * *

“Hello?”

“I’m not calling to help you in any way ever again.”  Hedda settled into the plush high-back chair behind her desk, the society column spread before her.

“Hedda! Calling to congratulate me? That’s awfully sweet of you, dear, but not necessary. You should be using your energies tending to your own fading star.”

Hedda reached for her cigarettes.

“Your concern warms the cockles, Louella, as always. It doesn’t sound as if you’ve read my latest. Too busy sharpening your talons?”

“Oh, try though I might, I haven’t missed your relentless attacks upon the poor Mrs. Rossellini. She’s rumored to be leaving show business and residing overseas.  Would that account for all the cream dripping from your whiskers? I can hear you smacking your lips and it’s a tad nauseating.”

Hedda enjoyed a lusciously deep inhale of smoke, then exhaled.

“You carried much the same air of bitch victory the last time we conferred.”

“Oh, is that what we did? I thought you were trying to do me a good turn, though I think you may need to have the word ‘good’ properly defined. You don’t seem to have much grasp of the concept.”

That made Hedda titter and cough a little cough.

“And how ‘good’ it was of you to explain how you came to know what you knew so as to prevent me looking the fool.”

“When have you ever needed assistance from me in that department?  If memory serves, wasn’t it Joseph Cotton who held your chair for you and then slid it back at just the right moment so you landed on your brains? Besides, I thought you relished being the vicious witch; you certainly wear it well.”

“Joseph has a lot to thank me for and don’t you forget it. So does Deanna Durbin, for that matter. She was such a babe in the woods then.”

“Well, you can imagine how they must have enjoyed having their affair exposed. Joseph was obviously just expressing his appreciation, is that it?”

“The proof is in the press and you know it. These stars remain in the sky so long as we shine a light on them. It doesn’t matter if it’s true, speculative or criminal. It’s attention, pure and simple.”

“Frankly, my dear, I’d leave purity and simplicity out of it, if I were you.”

“It’s been established you are not me, nor could you ever hope. . .”

“Relax, Hedda. You know, this is telling. There’s one star we both know who shines alone.  I think you target Charlie precisely because he ignores you. Just lives a genius’ life with all the little misses he wishes. That must burn your broom.”

“Look, I bow to his talent, which verges on genius, I admit it. I simply cannot tolerate his arrogance, his commie leanings, his . . . oh, everything.”

“Well, that narrows it down.”

“Let’s shift gears.  A little bird told me you had lunch with the cradle-robber just the other day. I’d love to have been a fly in your soup.”

“Charming visual, dear. What a delight, as I’m sure it would have been to have supped with Mr. C, but I cannot admit or deny such an event took place. You’ll merely have to await the evening paper, along with the rest of the herd.”

“Bitch!”

Click! 

* * *

CHARLIE CHAPLIN MARRIES OONA O’NEILL

“Oona O’Neill, daughter of famed playwright Eugene O’Neill, is an 18-year-old freshly minted high-school graduate and fledgling actress when she marries 54-year-old Charles Chaplin.”

* * *

Louella, having just had a face mask applied, daintily removed the cucumber slices from her eyes and then picked up the phone.

“Hellooo?”

“Smooth, Louella, I knew you had something up your garter last time we spoke. Carried that one close to the breast plate, did you?”

“Another congratulatory call, Hedda dear? You’ll make my head swell, but then all my hats wouldn’t fit, and we wouldn’t be who we are without our hats, would we?  Tell me, do you still write off your hats as an occupational necessity?”

Louella took a bite of cucumber, grinning. 

“You know, Louella, dear, you say that, but I would point out there is nothing in my readership numbers that says I couldn’t buy a dozen hats a day, if I wanted. Stuff that in your over-burdened brassier.”

“Well, I only know of one little tramp who doesn’t read you and, honestly, who could blame him?”

Louella chewed, smiling.

“I’m not a commie bastard.”

“I might allow that you wield some power in that bare-nailed bitchery you like to employ, but is the red-scare really necessary? What makes you think your political opinions matter anyway?”

“Maybe you haven’t been paying attention, Louella, but we are the opinions that matter.  One word from either one of us can move mountains, make or break careers, lives, fortunes.”

“Not to mention our own.”

Louella nibbled at the second cucumber.

“We’re worth every penny. It was the studios that created us to provide them publicity and name recognition, and they continue to count on us to keep their wayward stars from falling. That doesn’t come cheap.”

“And who would have thought we’d be so good at it! I dare say, in your case especially, they’ve created a real monster.  And most celebrities don’t give a damn what we write so long as we spell their names correctly.”

“Of course, there’s been the occasional nuisance lawsuit. Remember Michael Wilding and Stewart Granger? They didn’t take kindly to my ‘intrusion,’ even though anybody with half a brain already knew which way the wind blew.”

“If memory serves, they won, though the amount was never disclosed, was it?”

“My lips are sealed.  I’m nothing if not discrete.”

“You are nothing if not ferocious.”

“That’s why I’m the Hollywood Gossip Machine.”

“I’m sure history will reveal at some point who held Hollywood’s scrotum in the firmest grasp, Hedda. You needn’t crow about it to convince anyone, least of all me.”

“Well, now, I hate to, but I really must dash. I’m late for a meeting. Don’t do anything I would do.”

Click!

* * *

STOP CITIZEN KANE

* * *

“Yes, who is it?”

“Well, Hedda, you must be dripping cream like Niagara Falls, I can smell it from here.” 

“Is this the Queen of Hollywood Gossip calling the real queen to relinquish her crown?  You know, Louella, all you had to do was watch a screening of Citizen Kane to know it was about your old boss Hearst. I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“This isn’t over, Hedda.  Fasten your girdle and just watch.”

Click!

* * *

HEARST BANS RKO FROM PAPERS

* * *

Louella balanced a gin gimlet in one hand as she reached for the phone with the other.

“Is this you, Hedda?”

Hedda waved away soap bubbles that floated in her face as she languished in a hot bath.

“It’s been two weeks and I see Kane’s still banned.”

“Not only that, we’re putting the squeeze on all the studio heads and Welles personally.  It’s only a matter of time.”

“Good. William Hearst is a national treasure.”

Louella sipped her gimlet.

“Why, Hedda, I shudder to think we may agree.”

Hedda sipped her whiskey straight.

“How confident are you that Hearst can squash this bug?”

“If all else fails, they’ll plant a 14 year-old and a couple of photographers in Welle’s hotel room to greet him when he returns from dinner. Everything’s in place to make this not happen.”

“You know, this could be the beginning of a tolerant friendship. Let’s do lunch sometime, shock the world. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”

“I’ve been craving the cracked crab at Romanoff’s. It’s been ages. Have you ever?”

Hedda exhaled smoke that blew away the bubbles.

“I’ll call and arrange it.”

“Wear a new hat, Hedda. Let’s make ourselves a headline.”

“With bells on, Louella.”

Click!

* * *

CITIZEN KANE RECEIVES NINE OSCAR NOMINATIONS

* * *

“How’s your crab, Hedda?”

“Simply divine.”

“Not that we should be celebrating Kane being a critical success.”

“Yes, but, Louella, you did hear the Chicago premier opened to an empty theater.”  

“That is some consolation, I suppose. Orson may as well turn in his union card. He won’t be working again anytime soon.”

“That’s some solace.”

“Let’s have another martini.”

“Then, Louella, I want to share something with you.”

“So long as I’m not obliged to believe it.”

“That’s always been up to the reader, and you’re no different.  Seems to have worked in both our favors.”

“True. Today though, seeing people stop and stare at us, don’t you wonder what they’re thinking?”

“They’ll think what we tell them to think.”

“But Kane just got released in spite of all our efforts, and Hearst’s, for Christ’s sake!”

“Tosh. The critics may win a couple battles here and there; we’ll always win the war.”

“How do you figure that?”

“We hover, we're constant. Films, celebrity, studios, like fashion, come and go. You and I have the means to raise public consciousness. We hold up a mirror to society and we challenge. You okay with this? Think about it. We’re like Jiminy Cricket and everyone else is Pinocchio.”

“Wait. Are you accusing me of having a conscience?”

“My lips remain sealed, but we are a couple of world-class puppeteers.”

“Here comes the waiter with our drinks.”

“When did that happen?”

“I signaled when you weren’t looking. I couldn’t let on I ordered strychnine in one of them, could I?” 

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“And now, my dear Hedda, I’d like to make a toast.”

“Feel free.”

“To a couple of great broads who made a difference in a world not ready for them.”

“We really are ahead of our time.”

“Is that the strychnine talking?”

“I doubt it; you have that one.”

“Then I’d better talk fast. Tell me the biggest scoop for you, out of all of them, from the very beginning, before I even entered the scene and dominated . . . joined you in the cause?”

“That’s easy, Heddy. When Mary Pickford confided that she and Douglas Fairbanks – remember him? – were divorcing.  I sat on that one for six weeks thinking they might reconcile and I’d be left with egg on my face. Well, thank goodness I heard that the L.A. Times got it and were about to run the story but I still beat them.  That was bittersweet.”

“Timing is everything.”

“Tell me about it. How about you then? What’s your personal best scoop?”

“Trumbo.”

“I thought you’d say that. You figured prominently in that one, didn’t you?”

“I had to, if anything was going to be done about that redneck commie bastard. It’s as if no one saw an issue, just because the man writes a pretty script. It all soured in the end anyway.”

“Some people just don’t know what’s good for them.”

“Smacks of treason to me, did at the time. He was barred, banned and blacklisted, and they dared use him anyway. Liz Taylor was the worst.”

“That was on the set of the Sandpiper, as I recall.”

“It was. There sat King Dick and Queen Liz on their invisible thrones. I certainly wasn’t shy about pointing out that a blacklisted writer was about to be named in the credits, a serious infraction.  Do you know what that home-wrecking hussy had the nerve to say to me?”

Louella pointed an olive on a swizzle stick at Hedda.

“Hedda, why don’t you just shut the fuck up.”

“Yes. A glowing example of the Hollywood underbelly, something Elizabeth has no inhibition flaunting. I should have told her to have another chicken.”

“Heddy, is that our waiter?”

“It is, but I didn’t order . . . who? A well-wisher?”

“Well, isn’t that nice. Hello, stranger, whoever you are.”

“Well, another won’t hurt. I have a light afternoon.”

“I don’t remember what’s on my calendar.”

“Think we should turn them away?”

“Not on your life. Wonder if there’s strychnine in these.”

“If not, I always carry some.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“So, where were we?”

“Why don’t you just shut . . .”

“I remember now.  What I really wanted to tell you, I don’t think anyone other than you, Louella, would understand this.” 

“Let me guess. The impact, the weight of our words? Is that . . .”

“There was this young actor; I don’t know if you remember him. Ross Alexander?”

“Vaguely. That was back in the 30’s.”

“I divulged some trysting he was involved in with another actor.”

“Well, that happens often enough.”

“But they don’t all off themselves afterwards.”

“No, generally they’re blacklisted first. There’s a process.”

“Louella, you’re not helping.”

“Hedda, if you’re looking for anything other than a Louella Parsons byline, you need to spell that out for me. You said I would understand and I do. What I’ve learned, and you need reminding, is you can’t make a person do what they weren’t prepared to do before you came along. A quitter quits; that’s them, not us.”

“Does calling them 'quitters' ease the guilt?”

“I call it as I see it. Why, Hedda? What’s going on under that hat?”

“Just don’t get me wrong, we are doing a service for the public and we’re obviously good at it.”

“And there has been and will always be a need for what we do. People have always had an appetite for and the right to know what’s going on in their world. We just happen to excel at serving it up.”

“I was thinking – gin helps me think – you and I tell it as it is. Let’s face it. Real life isn’t clean. It doesn’t happen in straight lines. It takes a couple gutsy broads, like us, to spread gossip, though I prefer to call it ‘news properly translated’ because facts can be misleading.”

“I get it. So, we spread truth, is that what you’re saying?”

“Whatever you call it, truth, perspective, imprint. It would just lay there, lifeless, if we didn’t pick it up and give it air. I mean what’s the point of having affairs or divorces or committing crimes if no one knows about it or what lay behind it?”

“Like the tree in the woods, does it exist if no one hears it fall? Hedda, that’s some profound thinking. So, every famous person wants to be a tree.”

“Yes, and one that falls in public.”

“Well, all I know is, if the world didn’t have us, there’d be far less to care about.”

“All I ever wanted was to be a good American.”

“Well, by that standard, we have every reason to sleep well at night.”

“I’m considering this afternoon.  Are you going to finish that?”

“I’m saving the last drop for when we make our exit.”

“We’ve drawn quite a crowd.”

“Shall we milk the moment, Hedda?”

“Yes, we shall, Louella. Let’s show ‘em how a couple of feuding rivals make peace.”

“I think we should try to enjoy the moment.”

“Because it probably won’t last.”

“Is there any doubt?”

“You read my mind.”