In Hollywood, Britney was planning her comeback. She had spent all weekend dancing on tables, half-naked. This, she knew, was sure to get a response from The Globe, The Sun, The Enquirer; she anxiously awaited them to be delivered, poolside at the Chateau Marmont, by her overly gay manservant. She liked gay men. They were cute and fun to be around.
It was hard going through a divorce.
Without K-Fed to walk Lacy, Lucky, and Bit-Bit, and do all the dishes, and clean the pool (she fired the pool boy because all he did was chat with K-Fed), and change Jayden James, and feed Sean Preston, life could be really really tough, so she checked into the Chateau Marmont - just to relax and have a bit of ‘me’ time.
As she lounged in her Tom Ford bikini, she saw her manservant had just entered with the tabloids. She waited, not moving a muscle.
Come to me. Come to me. He came.
“Goody. You Rock!”
“Thank you, sweetie, but I’m afraid I didn’t see anything.”
She flipped though them quickly. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. WTF?
“What the fuck!” said Britney, “What about fucking People Magazine?” “Just another cancer patient on the cover, Miss Spears.”
“Nothin’, FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” She liked saying fuck.
“Darling you’re in US as worst dressed.”
“Oooh, can I see?”
She looked at the photo spread, and indeed she was pictured, her ass bare, and her breasts visible through a shear black negligee dress. She thought she looked hot.
“What the fuck does US know anyway?”
Christina [Aguilera] was on the next page, wearing some elegant Versace thing. She looked good, even for Christina, thought Britney.
She then threw the whole pile of newspapers into the pool with a high-pitched, orgiastic “Unngghh.” Somewhere a flash bulb went off. She stopped. Good, she thought. She smiled. Posed.
Everything was working.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lindsey Lohan. She smiled at her. Next week they were booked at the same rehab center.
“Let’s go turn on Extra.”
She marched off into the hotel, her manservant following. Tomorrow she would try something different. Maybe a lap dance at the MTV awards. She could sing ‘Fever’ by Madonna.
She knew what dress to wear.