Monday, May 28, 2007

The Diary Of Tran Frank. Chapter Five.

Sunday

Woke up feeling very wobbly, and realised I was bouncing around in a circular water bed, not a giant bowl of vomit. I felt seasick, or maybe it was the drink and drugs of the night before, or both, or... where the fuck was I? I wondered, lonely as a cloud. I looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows and that was all I could see - clouds. 'Clouds in my coffee, clouds in my coffee - you're so vain...' I found myself humming. Perhaps it was somehow appropriate. Or not. Where was I? I wrapped a lovely oriental silk sarong around my finely toned body, slipped on some Jimmy Choo flip-flops and staggered through double Egyptian-style doors into a vast hallway lined with what looked liked spatter paintings done by chimps. What a load of old pollocks, I mused. Where was the kitchen? 'Can I assist madame?' Asked a somewhat posh voice suddenly. I turned to find a tall, handsome young uniformed black butler smiling at me inquisitively. 'Well, er, yes...' I replied, trying to stop my eyes travelling downwards towards an impressive-looking package. 'Could you tell me where I am?'.

'Certainly madame, 'replied the butler. 'My name is Chapsworth, and you are in the penthouse of You Too Towers in Shanghai. Would madame care for some coffee - fair trade beans, naturally?' A strange, muffled whimpering noise made me feel slighly uneasy. Perhaps it was my stomach.

'Ooh yes please, I croaked. And where is ah...?'

'Mr Lil is feeding his favourite pet, it's called Anna, Anna Condo, ha ha, and this package...' He pointed to the large parcel he was carrying, 'is a litter of live puppies for Anna to - ahem - play with! Follow me please.' How odd!

Mr Lil - Shanghai? It had a certain ring to it, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it, as it were. Chapsworth led me into a vast, hi-tech circular kitchen set inside a glass pyramid. 'I bet the knives stay nice and sharp naturally,' I muttered to the butler, who merely nodded with a hint of a smile, and pressed some buttons on a black and chrome machine, having placed the box full of puppies on a table. 'Would a double espresso be suitable for madame's requirements?' He asked. 'That would be marvellous, ' I replied, eyeing his sturdy forearms; they were like mahogany covered in soft, black silky gossamer. His huge hands found some Phillipe Starke cups - was he was going to join me perhaps - ooh-er! My back bottom twitched involuntarily (my front bottom still hadn't quite 'settled in' to having sexually-triggered muscular spasms, despite the best efforts of Mr Federico Feline, Beano's plastic surgeon). Chapsworth placed two espressos on a silver tray and beckoned for me to follow him through some double doors into another vast pyramid, which was like an enclosed rain forest in the sky, surrounding a huge artificial pond.

'Ah so, my dear Flankie, ' said a voice with a strong Chinese accent, 'I am seeing that Chapsworth hass tekken care of you. You seemply moost meet Anna.'

The tiny, Buddha-like Mr Lil was standing on a bridge that spanned the 'lake', holding a little puppy. 'How adorable!' I cooed, 'is Anna a Pekinese?'

'Oh no - Anna is positively Amazonian' giggled Mr Lil, holding the puppy out over the water and whistling. Suddenly a huge snake's head lunged out the water and towards the bridge, but instead of grabbing the whimpering puppy it wrapped itself around Mr Lil and dragged him screaming into the foaming depths. Somehow, the puppy had managed to jump back onto the bridge. 'Do something Chapsworth!' I yelled hysterically (some might say my screaming was, well, hysterical, but that's 'cos it's soooo deep. Hmm. Goes with the territory). Chapsworth just stood there and winked at me, passed me my espresso and said 'Oh well, there goes Shanghai Lil. Fancy some bird nest soup madame?'

I slurped down my coffee, scooped the pekinese puppy into my arms and followed Chapsworth back into the kitchen. Somehow my antique silk sarong slipped to the floor. Chapsworth's trouser crotch seemed to twitch and grow... and grow. He took me in his manly arms. 'Wait!' I whispered, putting the Pekinese down, 'The poor, adorable little puppies!'.
I tore open the large box and out tumbled five little bundles of joy, snatched, indeed, from the jaws of death. 'Meat! Chapsworth, Meat!' I exclaimed urgently. He started to unzip his fly. 'No, for the adorable little puppies first!'.
Soon, we were all feasting on prime steak. The puppies got fillet, and I somehow made do with Sir Loin, once I'd got the butler to call the police about the horrible accident and ghastly death that had befallen Mr Lil.

Monday

Fate is strange sometimes, I mused, as I sprayed lavender talc between my somewhat sore thighs. Thighs and whispers, I whispered into the deeply vulgar ormulu mirror in one of the opulent (after the Dubai school of interior design) bathrooms in 'lil ol Lil's palatial master suite, checking my lippy. Boots #7 - so reliable and economical too. I'm sure Joy Borge SWEARS by it. I fucking love Boots, she might bellow, apropos of nothing, other than the pain in her builders' arse. I sashayed back to the bowl of vomit to find a pleasantly arousing site: Chapsworth lying face down in his butlers white shirt. Only. His magnificent legs spread like mighty oaks, his tremendous buttocks protruding alluringly through the white cotton. Shame he was asleep.

Still, I had plenty to take care of, like my newly acquired billions. Just a few legal niceities to sort out. It had all been such a tragic accident - but we were so very close, even after such a short romance. That's why he left his entire fortune to me, and a lovely island called Battee, well more of an atoll really, with a lovely palm tree and a litle beach bar called Crusoes, to the adorable Chapsworth! That's when I came up with the idea of the floating atolls in the Carribean - a bit like the Maldives, but with drugs and studs, hookers and hoodlums just to add some real retro-romantic-rumpy-pumpy-for-the-old-the-rich-and-the-humpy-dumpy. But only in cyberspace, of course. www.tranfrankia.tv became a legend in its own launch time. And Tran Frank became ruler of all before her. Chapsworth changed his name to Merc Anthony and got murdered by a rent boy on crack. So much for a dull Monday eh? Virtual reality is so much less stressful than hateful, horrid real life, espcially when you're the queen as well!