You’d think that getting away fairly clean with a large golden statue would be enough for Rossi/Jacques, wouldn’t you? Not if you know the real Jack.
Rossi decides that he needs to go back for his car and his date with destiny … in the form of two large breasts that adorn the figure of the lovely Maya Mellon.
He has Romy and Serafina stop at an all-night all-purpose department store so he can buy bolt cutters, a can of spray paint and other goodies.
He tells them he needs to go for his car, which has been stolen from him.
Chu mean the car that I drove to the United States. I dint tink it was your car.
Hey, I stole it and I drive it, that makes it my car.
Well, I drove it here, does that mean chu estole it from me?
No, it’s mine.
Why?
‘Cause I drive it and I shot the girl after the flat tire…
Chu mudder focker. I hate flat tires.
Dudette, just drop me off near, like, the county impound, okay?
Romy happily drops Rossi off and the girls continue on to the pickup point for the gold.
Rossi cuts a hole in the fence and enters the impound yard only to find that the Ferrari is not there.
Not to be deterred from the possibility of an evening of bliss nestled between the voluptuous breasts of Maya Mellon, Rossi finds the crown jewel of autos: a Porsche 959. He stands there mesmerized for a moment as he stares at the halo of gold around the car (yeah right, as if cars had auras), before licking his lips and striding purposely toward the prize.
Surprisingly, the car is open and the keys are in it. Rossi gets in, guns the gas and speeds out of the lot, taking a flimsy barricade with him.
He phones Maya Mellon and finds out that she is getting off of work in five minutes. With a promise to pick her up in front, he heads toward the MGM Grand.
Rossi pulls up in front of the hotel and is greeted by all manner of tip mongers, from valet parkers to bellhops who want to help him with his nonexistent luggage. Finally, the lovely Maya Mellon appears and joins Rossi on his throne. She stares admiringly at the car and at Rossi. Rossi’s grip tightens around his stick (the shifter you perverts!).
As Rossi is cruising down the road with Miss Mellon, my phone starts vibrating. The big cheese wants to know where my boy is. Now, that could be a lot of people. There’s Jack, then Rossi, and let’s not forget the scrumptious gardener that tends my garden (that is not a euphemism in France. Anyway, he means Rossi. Apparently, Rossi has stolen the impounded car of one gangsta rapper called Fluffy Pillow. Where the fuck do they get these names? It seems the guy has a hit song out right now, ‘my sham’s too small for my big pillow’. Not only has he stolen the car of a criminal in musician’s clothing (who also may or may not be in to home decorating), but the car has lo-jack and, since Rossi saw fit to spray paint ‘hey’ on everything around where the car had been, every person even remotely associated with law enforcement this side of the Mississippi is in search of Rossi/the International Terrorist Jacques. In fact, my boss has sent out to helicopters ‘in search’ of the missing terrorist. I try to call Rossi.
Meanwhile, Rossi had stopped for some gas. As he is filling up, he answers my call. Can’t he read those signs that say talking on a cell phone at the gas station is dangerous? Why doesn’t he also prop a gas cap in the dispenser handle and light a cigarette! I try to find out what he is doing, but he doesn’t give me much information. He hangs up on me as he sees a car pull into the gas station and turn off its headlights. He heads out to the highway with the car in pursuit.
I go out to my car thinking that I can somehow catch up to the little shit and make this all better.
Rossi sees the flashing lights of a police checkpoint in the distance and slams on the brakes, doing a 180. He heads back in the other direction, passing the car that was behind him, which now has its lights flashing. Rossi’s adrenaline level is at an all time high as the car pushes the limits of controllable speed. Maya is bouncing from the door to Rossi’s arm and back, lamenting the fact that she removed her support bra.
Romy and Serafina, having successfully dropped off the gold statue, are back in their respective places watching the news. The news channels are broadcasting a high speed chase that involves, according to the anchor person, the International Cabaret Terrorist, Jacques. Romy calls me to tell me and gives me Rossi’s current location. I turn on the news and hear two things, one – the current progress of the terrorist Jacques and two – Fluffy Pillow has changed his name to the more masculine sounding Fluff Pillow (‘cause dropping the fy completely changes his image). The hit song has been changed to Yo, My Pillow’s too big for my Sham.
I get Rossi on the phone and tell him about the whole lo-jack thing.
Rossi heads to the underground parking of the hotels and casinos on the strip to throw the lo-jack trackers off. He stops and throws Maya and her bruised Mellons out of the car – all in the interest of her safety, of course. He still thinks it’s the best date he ever had!
When he emerges from the garages, he has lost all of his pursuers. Rossi heads for the desert, where they won’t be able to track the car … unless they’re in a covert black ops helicopter, that is. My phone vibrates. I tell them to let him go. Rossi feels a change in the wind as the helicopters fly off into the distance.
I return to the casino. Paris, looking distracted and not overly pleased (which just might have something to do with a missing gold statue) is obviously the perfect company for me. She tells the bartender to prepare some Martikis and we drink to a lovely evening.
I watch the news rap up on the TV. Once again, the authorities have lost the International Cabaret Terrorist, Jacques. Also in the news, Fluff Pillow will be hosting his own home decorating show, which will feature rock and rap bands redecorating each others’ digs. The preview of the first episode shows rockers The Lame Grasshoppers preparing to button-tough rapper Comfy Chair’s home gun rack, while Comfy is having custom-made state-of-the-art pill dispensers installed in the bathrooms of the rockers’ homes.