Door-to-Door Malkovich

We found Johnny Malkovich out by the pool today. It’s impossible to tell for certain how long he’d been sitting there and just staring at us, but Paco thinks it might have been since at least yesterday. He was under a number of towels, which made it that much more difficult to spot him.

Oh, don’t worry darlings. He’s fine. Johnny is just unnaturally still. I remember the first time we met, at a party our mutual friend Faith threw to celebrate her first nose job-- this was back before she married that dreadful Tim fellow. I was there was my old friend Toddy, who is both a country music fan and a fan of Faith Hill. Well, as we were taking in the decorations-- photos of greased nudes in repose, mostly-- we saw, standing against the wall between “Butthole In Blue” and “Vaginalia”, what I took to be an amazingly accurate replica of the actor John Malkovich. So I turned to Toddy and said, “darling, who would bring a doll of John Malkovich to a party?” My mind, which of course seeks out the most devious possible explanations, came upon the words “sex toy” and paired them immediately with “Vince Gill”. And I very nearly opened my mouth to suggest that very thing when Toddy said, “I think that’s actually him.”

“No! Is he dead?” I asked. “He’s not breathing.”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

So I held out my hand, ever so tentatively, to the Malkovich replica, and introduced myself.

“It’s a... pleasure,” he said, moving so suddenly I actually jumped several feet backwards and shattered the nail on one of Toddy’s big toes. (Toddy had consumed an epic quantity of anti-psychotics before the party, and thus did not notice the damage for two days.)

“I was just... watching... the people. Moving... through this LOVEly... space,” Johnny said, in that word-devouring way of his.

Well, I just had to keep him talking because every time he stopped he stopped so completely I was positive he had died. One time I nearly screamed for a paramedic. (Willie Nelson was at the party as well, so there were paramedics on standby.) Anyway, as you might expect, trying to keep someone talking all evening, while often exceptionally tiring, is a fantastic way to become fast friends, which we did.

Of course sometimes, darlings, being Johnny’s friend can be tiresome. The last time he turned up unannounced at my home, in addition to frightening poor Paco half to death (I can still hear him running from the front door screaming, “Muerto! Muerto!”), he had come to make what I considered an unreasonable request.

“I need to know... what it feels like... to have a NAIL... driven through my hand,” he’d said.

“However can I help you with that, darling?” I asked.

“I’d like you... to drive this NAIL... through... the palm of my hand.”

Well that was something I could not do. (I wouldn’t think of holding a hammer, darlings!) So I sent him off to ask Angelina instead-- she loves that sort of thing, you know-- and I suspect he was rather put off by that, as he hadn’t come around for some time.

Which is why the staff wasn’t properly trained. I had to change pool maids since the last time Johnny had stopped by (it’s so hard to get good pool help) and I guess one of the girls just mistook him for a chair, or a statue they simply had not seen before. And Johnny can get lost in thought for quite some time, so until there was someone there to address him formally, he just remained where he was... up until a few hours ago, when my afternoon nap was shattered by renewed cries of, “Muerto! Muerto!”

Johnny couldn’t stay for long, though. After inviting him inside I asked him why he decided to stop by. “I was... wondering... if I had ever talked to you before... about the wonders of AMWAY.”

And that, darlings was the end of that.