Sunday, January 2, 2011

Your New Year's Resolution: Submit for January

Happy New Year Title Fighters! Celebrate a time of new beginnings and boundless hope and optimism by submitting stories for this month's theme: Famous Last Words. To get started just shoot an email over to and request a title, write a story, submit it, and start 2011 with a bang.

It's a brand new decade, people. Kick it off right.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Parade of the Wooden Soldiers by Jimmy Callaway

Neil Powack (director of media relations, Central Intelligence Agency): The very idea that the CIA would employ actors in the capacity being discussed here is ludicrous. And actors such as these men? Beyond ludicrous.

Conner Tomlinson (adult film star): Well, they would say that, wouldn’t they? They said Chuck Barris was a liar, too. Hell, even I still think Barris was full of shit. But I know what I did, and what others have done. Whether anybody else knows or believes or cares doesn’t change that one bit.

“Big” Jim McGarrity (talent scout/agent): It’s almost to the point where I don’t believe it, and I was there at the very beginning. I had a little office down on Chatworth, a little strip-mall type place that I repped out of: models, strippers, and actors. Mostly women, y’know, I didn’t get into this biz to look at dicks all day. But some of those dicks brought me in a nice ten-percent, so I always had a couple of the boys on the payroll.

Anyways, one day, this little guy in a brown suit, glasses, real Wally Cox-type comes in and asks me if I want to help serve my country. I says to him, “I’d rather get paid, mister.” And he just smiles a little, and I’ll never forget this, he says, “Mr. McGarrity, that’s what I said.”

Bob Tyron (adult film star): I was having a good time, man, a fuckin’ great time. I was getting paid tons of money to fuck the world’s most beautiful women. I had more money than I could spend, and more pussy than I knew what to do with.

I spend a lotta time these days, man, thinking about why I gave up all of that, started not just a whole new life, but a life no-one woulda even dreamed I could have. I think about that a lot and, man, y’know?

I just don’t know.

Johnny Reardon (adult film star): Oh, I know exactly why I went to work for the CIA. The same exact reason I went into porn: girls and money.

Those are the only reasons to do anything, really.

Conner Tomlinson: I never had any real love for my government. Especially all that censorship stuff, they arrested Harry Reams, the whole Deep Throat trials. It was all a sham, and a fascist sham at that. But then this company man came along, giving me a bunch of patriotic talk and how freedom wasn’t free and all this. And I’ll admit it did kind of begin to stir up in me some love for my country.

But not as much as the huge sums of money he offered me.

Johnny Reardon: He never gave us a name, just said he was with the government. We didn’t even know he was CIA until after we’d had basic. Tomlinson always called him “the company man,” so that was a good enough name for the rest of us to call him.

“Big” Jim McGarrity: All I told those boys was this man wanted to see them, to be all down at my office that Monday morning. The company man came in, and he gave them some shit about how true heroes didn’t need recognition, and how America needed some true heroes. I remember he mentioned that our government at the time depended on men like them to do the dirty work, men who were not afraid to get in there and do what must be done. Hell, I’ll be honest, by the time he was done, I was ready to join up for the cause.

And all the boys pretty much signed up right then and there. I never saw a one of ‘em again.

Conner Tomlinson: I guess besides the money, there was something else that appealed, though at the time, I wouldn’t have admitted it. Basically, I was bored. We all were. And what the company man was offering us, it didn’t sound boring at all.

Bob Tyron: I remember looking around at the others, like, Can you fucking believe what we’re hearing? We’re porn stars, man, we’re not soliders or whatever. Definitely not patriots. I’ve never voted once in my life. I looked over at Johnny, and he was just like, y’know, whatever. Malcolm [Comstock] was all hyped up, his face all red, although that was probably all the coke he was doing at the time. Walt [Malice], you could never get a bead on, you could never tell what he was thinking. But I saw the look on Conner’s face, man, this look like, it was just like, y’know? Finally. Finally, we’re gonna do something.

Conner Tomlinson: Bob’s a nice guy, but he was a fucking idiot. Still is, I’d imagine.

Bob Tyron: See, I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but here’s what I think I got figured out. None of us went into porn with our eyes closed. We knew the score, man, we were just pieces of meat. Nobody’s watching these films for us, for our acting abilities. They just wanna see the girls. And really, for the most part, that’s just fine.


A guy’s gotta have an identity of his own, y’know?

A fuckin’ purpose.

Johnny Reardon: No, I never understood why they picked us. I never thought to ask, frankly. Why wouldn’t anybody want me to do anything? I’m a fucking god. And I mean that literally.

The fucking part, anyways. Not so much the god part.

Conner Tomlinson: I asked the company man that once, why us. A buncha porn stars. It was after he’d given us his big pitch and we’d all signed our lives away. I said there’s gotta be thousands of guys out there who’d already had the training, who didn’t need to be persuaded with a ton of money. So why headhunt us, y’know, why bother?

He just looked at me and said I’d answered my own question.

I still don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. And I think I’d rather it stay that way.

Johnny Reardon: Basic training sucked big ol’ balls. I fuckin’ hated it, but whatever. The shit I’d been through my whole life, I could handle six weeks of some loudmouth needle-dick screaming in my face.

Conner Tomlinson: Basic was as bad as they tell you, but it definitely helped that there was only the five of us. To this day, I don’t even know where the base was that they trained us at. They flew us there in the dead of night, black bags over our heads and everything. I think we all still thought it was a gag or something, like McGarrity was just fucking with us.

Bob Tyron: Aw, man, basic. The fuckin’ worst, man. This D.I., his name was Owens. At least that was what they said his name was. Just a real uptight prick, man.

Conner Tomlinson: Owens ran us like dogs, but frankly, I think we all needed it. Nothing fazes Reardon, and Bob’s too dumb to really take anything too seriously. But Malcolm, that guy was a world-class fuck-up. And you could tell he really took to being bossed around like that, humiliated in the name of making himself a better soldier. I’m no psychologist, but anybody could tell you that guy had serious daddy issues.

Johnny Reardon: I’d known Malcolm Comstock for a while, I worked with him on his first film, Permission to Come Aboard. Me and him teamed Christy Canyon. He was a nice enough guy, pretty funny guy. But his shoots would go on and on for hours sometimes.

He couldn’t keep his dick hard to save his life.

Conner Tomlinson: And Walt, well, shit. I never liked Walt, but nobody really did in our old lives either. And to do what we were doing, being likeable was not a requirement. But I remember once when we were out on the artillery range, I looked over at Walt as we were both reloading, and not to sound corny, but he had this look on his face, it was just...beatific. I can’t think of another word for it. And the thought occurred to me—and not for the first time—that we were finally home.

Johnny Reardon: The guy was fucking crazy. End of story.

Conner Tomlinson: I mean, obviously, I was wrong about Walt. But whatever happened later, I felt really good at that time. Really good, to where I can still remember how it felt. And you know, that’s enough for me. I don’t care what happened after that. There was a time when all was right with the world.

And surprisingly enough to no one less than myself, I wasn’t having an orgasm at the time.

Bob Tyron: But when the real black-ops training started, man, that was fuckin’ great! They teach you how to kill a guy in five thousand different ways, man! Just crazy shit. All those James Bond gadgets and everything. A pen that is also a hand grenade. Condoms made out of a solidified flesh-eating bacteria. Man, that’s some cold-blooded shit. A solid year of that, can you fuckin’ imagine?

Conner Tomlinson: While we’re away at CIA death-dealing camp, they found body doubles for each of us to continue acting in our place. And to continue partying in our place too, I’d guess. I have no idea where they dug these guys up. But I’d be willing to guess they were mighty grateful for that assignment.

Johnny Reardon: Black-ops training was hands down my favorite part of this whole thing. For a year, they trained us in just about every form of martial arts I’d ever heard of, and several more I didn’t even know existed. We learned counter-intelligence, counter-espionage, fuckin’ counter-everything. I’d never felt before like I was less of a man or anything. But after that year, I wondered how I had ever been able to look myself in the mirror, not knowing how to kill a man with his own kneecap.

Conner Tomlinson: Personally, I found the book-work we did in that year far more interesting, far more useful. All that false flag stuff, how to work propaganda, basically all ways to get people to do your job for you. I’d always suspected that the human animal was, at its most basic, completely brainless. Now I was having it confirmed for me.

Johnny Reardon: So those early years in Nicaragua were a blast, really. Those monkeys down there, they loved us. A lotta the guys working under us, the Contras, each squad had, like, whole libraries of porn videos. So they knew who we were, although obviously we weren’t officially even there at all. But they knew.

If you want to fuck somebody, you call on old Uncle Sam.

Conner Tomlinson: I can count on one hand the number of wet jobs I actually went on in Nicaragua. The company man felt my strength was in propaganda, y’know, in an advisory role a lot of the time. It helped that I spoke fluent Spanish. Hell, I was married to Victoria Del Chichonas for most of the late ‘70s. So I knew how to speak Spanish as well as how to fuck with people’s heads.

Bob Tyron: I don’t wanna sound, y’know, like...I know killing is wrong and stuff. But y’know, they say the same thing about fucking, too, right? And yeah, maybe both things are wrong, y’know, morally speaking or whatever. But you know what else?

I’m pretty good at both of ‘em.

Johnny Reardon: Walt never did anything really weird that whole time, even though he definitely was no fun to hang around with. But he never had been, really. And he was a consummate professional. Once, we running an exfiltration on some chemical warheads the Sandinistas had gotten a hold of, and this fuckin’ Sandy dropped out of nowhere with a knife to my throat. I barely got out a squawk, and Walt dusted that motherfucker, bingo. Right between the eyes. One-Shot Malice, I called him after that.

Bob Tyron: Yeah, Malcolm was an okay guy, and y’know, he was definitely on edge. I dunno if it was too many drugs or not enough or whatever. There was one time when he and I went in to take out this rabble-rouser, this workers’ organizer named Cisco Francesco. We watched him for a few days, learned he went and saw his mistress every Tuesday at around siesta time. So we set up shop across the street from her apartment. Malcolm was a good sniper, y’know, definitely the best out of all of us dudes. So he sets up his rifle, he gets a bead on the guy as he’s across the street, fucking away. And his goddamn rifle jams.

It was no big deal, y’know, fuckin’ plan B, I just walked across the street and slit both their throats. But man, Malcolm was so pissed, screaming and carrying on, I thought the whole neighborhood was gonna come out and wonder what the fuck was going on. The guy had tears running down his face, he was so mad. Eventually, I got him calmed down and we got the fuck out of there. I never really gave it much of a second thought, y’know.

I guess I should have.

Johnny Reardon: Man, that was a great story. We all broke Malcolm’s balls for a week on that one. But yeah, looking back, fuckin’ Walt never laid off the guy.

Bob Tyron: Walt was a mean guy. I mean, I’d been there when it looked like Malcolm was cracking, y’know, I’d seen it. But he was, y’know, he was one of us. A brother-in-arms, man.

But Walt was always ragging on Malcolm, man. Little things, y’know, calling him Mrs. Comstock, or Ol’ Limpy. Shit like that. Really childish, man.

Conner Tomlinson: I guess that’s where my leadership skills should be called into question. I won’t deny it. But I will say in my defense that we’d all had the same training, we’d all been doing the work for a good amount of time. If Walt or Malcolm were going to go section-eight, I don’t know what I could have done about it, even then.

So Nicaragua went okay, despite the end results. By the time of the Ollie North trials, though, we were all already in El Salvador. And of course, that’s where it all pretty much ended.

Johnny Reardon: If you ask me, I don’t think there ever was a biological weapon, any kinda super-virus. You ask me, they had run over our black budget, and the company man set us up to get taken out. Fuckin’ suicide mission. But nobody’s ever asked me, and really, who cares. I made it home alive.

That’s all that matters.

Bob Tyron: Yeah, El Salvador coulda gone a whole lot better, man. But then again, I guess it coulda been worse. Fuckin’ I dunno.

Conner Tomlinson: The mission was fairly simple, not unlike any other operation, really. Word was the FMLN had this scientist set up in a secret lab deep in the jungle in some old monastery or something like that. His name was something like...Van Hessel? Van Husserel. Dr. Van Husserel. Some expatriated Nazi or something. It all sounds like the plot of a bad movie, I know. I’ve been in a few.

Johnny Reardon: Supposedly, this Van Husserel was working on a virus that specifically targeted the genetic structure of Caucasians Put a little of it in the drinking fountain at the Pentagon, and next thing you know, every white person there was gonna have their intestines shooting out their assholes. Couldn’t have that, God knows.

Bob Tyron: The company man told us, or told Conner anyways, that there wasn’t much security, y’know, the fuckin’ Femmies didn’t even believe this Van Husserel could deliver on his promise. And that was true, the five of us got in that night with very little resistance or whatever.

But once inside, we almost got compromised by a couple guards, so we had to split up. That’s how Walt and Malcolm got to the lab before we did.

Conner Tomlinson: It had been a while since I had actually been in the field, so I think I was more concentrating on getting back into the groove, y’know, I wasn’t paying much attention to much else. Completely my fault, and I am one lucky son of a bitch that I didn’t pay for that mistake with my life.

By the time Johnny, Bob, and I got to the lab, Van Husserel was already bleeding out on the floor. There was a lot of blood, but that was nothing new. But I guess that’s why I didn’t notice that Walt was already bleeding like a stuck pig.

Johnny Reardon: Walt said they’d taken another couple guards by surprise on their way down to the lab. He said Malcolm fucked up and his guy got away from him, and the guy managed to stick Walt before Walt slit his throat for him. Even at the time, under pressure, the clock ticking, it sounded like bullshit to me.

Bob Tyron: Malcolm just sat there at the lab table, fuckin’ Bunsen burners and whatever all over the place, broken glass. He just sat there and hung his head.

Conner Tomlinson: Walt said he’d beaten the truth out of the good doctor Van Husserel, that he held in his hand a syringe of the only perfected batch of the super-virus. He said we had saved America again, that he was the fucking Lizard King, I don’t remember his exact words. I was trying to get them to come on, we had to burn the place out. I had already called in the coordinates, and air support was on its way to fire-bomb the place back to the Mayans.

Johnny Reardon: Walt looks at me and he says, “This is fucked.” I dunno why me, I didn’t like him or dislike him more than any of the others, but he says, “This is all fucked. We have been fucked.” And he’s bleeding out. I say something like, C’mon, Walt, let’s get home, we’ll patch you up. And for a second, he looked like he got his head back, and he took a step toward me.

And then he just collapsed.

Bob Tyron: Walt’s bleeding out, he can’t even stand. Malcolm’s just sitting there. I come over, I say, y’know, “Malcolm, c’mon, man.” And he looks up at me, and he was...he was just so pale. And I knew it before he even said it.

“Walt infected me.”

Conner Tomlinson: All I knew was we had to get the fuck out of there. We can conjecture all day if we want to, but even had I known then exactly what had happened between Walt and Malcolm, it wouldn’t have made any difference. If we’d hung around, Walt would have been right.

We would have been fucked.

Bob Tyron: I said, y’know, “What? What’re you talking about?” And Walt looks up at me, looks up at Johnny, he says, “I had to preserve a sample, man. You guys have got to take Malcolm back, let the lab boys get a sample from him.”

And I was like, “Man, are you out of your fucking mind?”

Johnny Reardon: I guess carrying the sample home in the syringe would have made too much sense. No, I’ll tell you exactly what happened: Malcolm fucked up and got Walt stabbed, so Walt infected him with a virus that would turn his digestive tract into fuckin’ molten lava. Walt was an asshole.

Malcolm was a bigger asshole.

Bob Tyron: So I grab Malcolm, I say, “Look, we’ll fuckin’ get this shit straightened out at home, let’s get the fuck outta here.” And Malcolm says, “Yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here.” And for a second, I was like, Sweet, he’s thinking clearly.

Then he grabbed my .45 out of my belt.

Conner Tomlinson: The official story in the Adult Video News was that Malcolm Comstock died quietly of pancreatic cancer at his home in Malibu, and a week later, Walt Malice died after he ran his Ferrari off the road in the Hollywood Hills. But I was there.

Malcolm shot Walt in the face. And then Malcolm shot Malcolm in the face.

Johnny Reardon: I’d suspected our run was about through before then. And after that, I knew for a fact it was over. But here I sit now with plenty of what? That’s right.

Money and girls.

Bob Tyron: This set-up we got now, y’know, it’s not bad. I can’t see my family or nothin’, but y’know. I never really cared much about that anyways. We can’t leave these grounds, but we’ve got plenty of money, and y’know, the fuckin’ Internet, it’s pretty much like having the outside world brought to your door.

Plus the CIA flies in all kinds of girls for us to fuck.

Conner Tomlinson: It’s pretty much just summer camp for the rest of our lives. Which, when you think about it, is not unlike the adult entertainment industry. My freedom, such as it was, is sorely missed sometimes. But I’m a big boy, I knew what I was doing when I signed up with the company. And I made it out alive.

There’s one thing you learn right away when you show up at your first shoot, your first audition, or whatever. It’s a jungle out there, it really is. And there’s only one law in the jungle.

Fuck or be fucked.

Of course now, I’m hard-pressed sometimes to tell which is which.