Wednesday, November 8, 2006

Not Only ... But AlsoJune 26, 1967

Dear Dud,

Just got back from the studio, Bedazzled is a go. What’s all this about Blakey Edwards? Whatever, I’m sure P. Sellers will get the nod anyway (and the numerical title seems a bit off … crazy Americans, they’d make a movie about the number ten for the hell of it). Anyway, see you round Elstree for first day’s shooting.


* * *

July 4, 1969

Dear Dud,

Hello again, just wondering if you think we could go to the BBC with the new show this week. That is, if you’re not too busy being more famous than me. No resentment, of course. You deserve it. Never mind I gave you the lead role in the bloody film.

Not bitter at all,

* * *

August 18, 1972

Dear Dud,

You cunt…

Piss off,

* * *

January 23, 1974

Dear Dud,

Oh, you’re having trouble with your gimp leg, are you? Probably fucking cancer, which I hope you die from. Miserable shit …

I mean it this time,

* * *

December 24, 1978

Dear Wanker,

Merry fucking Christmas to you and the latest train wreck, erm, I mean, film. I see B. Edwards finally got you to do it after Bo Derek shook her tits in your face. Arsehole…

I could use some cash, if you’ve got any to spare (I swear I won’t drink it away, father),

* * *

July 12, 1980

Dear Shit,

Arthur? What the fuck is that, fuckin’ “Knights of the Round Table”? Oh, excuse me, it’s about a lovable drunk … ha-ha, like you need to work at playing drunk! I’ve been drunk for twelve fucking years, you peg-legged shit! And Liza Minnelli? Not with your dick, I wouldn’t.

Here’s a film idea for you: me flipping you off,

* * *

March 13, 1987

Dear Dud,

Listen, mate, it might be time to reconcile. Give us a ring when you’re in town, maybe you can hop over on that one good leg of yours.


P.S. Arthur II: On the Rocks … wait, sorry, that’s what your career is, you shit!

* * *

December 13, 1994

Dear Dud,

Well, I’ve gone and done it. I’m dying. And as I leave this earth, I can console myself in the knowledge that my one true friend in this life will be by my side, as he was through thick and thin, the good times and the bad, the times when I couldn’t help but drink myself into a stupor and curse you and your fucking stardom.

So in other words, Jack Daniel’s says hello,

Trevor Seigler once wrestled a vicious mountain lion bare-handed, but was unable to get a submission due to the ref being distracted. Now residing in Backwater Redneckville, South Carolina, he spends his days sending angry e-mails to various heads of state, annoyed that they refuse to sign his “Bring Back Knight Rider!” petition. He enjoys long walks on the beach, romantic dinners by candlelight, and an occasional screw. He still can’t figure out why he’s single.

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