Date: Fri, 25 Jul 2003 02:48:55 -0400 From: Jamie Haze Subject: DOOBY rhymes with Scooby Part 11 DOOBY rhymes with Scooby Part 11 By Jamie Haze Charlie was still chuckling after he replaced the phones' handset. It started ringing one second after the show ended. He looked at Cory already pulling Dooby toward the door of the study, "I guess you heard. Do you mind getting breakfast for all of us? Rob and Kevin are coming too and Scott if they can reach him. I'll go see if there's a cold bottle of Champaign around, we have got to toast our success," he corrected himself, "I mean your success boys, I can't imagine anyone else doing that show." Dooby put on the brakes wearing a questioning frown, "Wait a minute, did Kevin and Rob stay overnight there?" he asked suspiciously and then surmised the answer, "I'll bet they did. That's not fair, we got kicked out and they get to stay over." Charlie grinned and nodded, "Tommy anticipated you Dooby my boy, he said to tell you they slept in your room, AND stayed in the room all night. If you two were there would you have let Tom and Christian alone?" Dooby grinned his answer, "Well no, probably not," he held up his hand with his fingers spread, "but with us, there are extenuating circumstances, our rings match remember Gramps? We still need to," he groped for words suitable for Laura to hear, "ah, do something about that." Cory started giggling, "Extenuating? Where'd you get that big word so early in the morning?" Dooby turned haughty and looked down his nose at his little lover, "It just so happens you ignorant duffus, that I know lots of words with more than four letters in them, I even know a few four letter one's that don't start with `f' or `s'," he joined Cory in laughing, "but those aren't my favorites." He suddenly reversed their rolls and began pushing Cory up the hall toward the kitchen, "Speaking of which, you know we've been getting up way too early two mornings in a row, we definitely need to slow down and practice my vocabulary in bed." Laura's face reddened, "Oh my, this is definitely getting to be a long week." Charlie agreed, "I've been saying the same thing for two days and now that the show appears to be a success," he left the thought unfinished. "WE HEARD THAT!" Cory and Dooby sang together from the hall. "Autographs for the family are free today only, but starting tomorrow let's try for ten bucks!" "Yeah! We'll have to get a couple of Sharpie pens. I wonder if writer's cramp is covered by workmen's compensation." Cory asked. "A couple? We better get a case!" "QUIET ON THE SET!" Dooby shouted. He and Cory stood behind Tom's gas grill. The lid had been removed temporarily so the camera could see the big rib roast turning slowly on the rotisserie. Both wore their Spelling jerseys and both were sweating in the noon time Sunday sun. "We're actually having a cookout today and decided to show you another great way to fix a roast." Dooby began the short segment that was to be inserted into the roast beef show that they finally finished on Friday afternoon. Thursday was scheduled, but when they all went to the Spelling offices after the impromptu breakfast party, the phones started ringing as soon as the switchboard opened and calls continued to backup on the eight hundred lines all day. Charlie installed Cory and Dooby in his office and left them alone to handle the flood of phone calls. Then Friday afternoon after the show was in the `can', professional jargon Scott used to mean completing the `shoot' and instructing Dooby to shout, "THAT'S A WRAP!" there was a whirlwind of activity in and around the Patterson-Dunn home to get ready for the cookout on Sunday.  Tom proved his organizational skills by producing lists of things to do and buy he'd written in consultation with Cory, since Cory was the one in the group most at home in the kitchen and was equally well organized and fond of lists. Tom read the first item on his list of assignments, "GET ALL THIS SHIT OUT OF OUR KITCHEN!" he shouted from the great room with his eyes on Scott. "The next show will be taped in your loft on the new set. I've got a double shift of men working on that until it's finished." Very little was to be acquired from Spelling's since Charlie insisted and even included free shopping as one of Tom's perks in his contract and Tom wasn't comfortable with having Charlie pay for a cookout. Ground sirloin, chicken, Italian sausage and giant all beef hotdogs were waiting to be picked up at the local meat market Saturday. Maine Lobster, fresh shrimp and cherrystone clams would be delivered, packed in ice in Styrofoam coolers late Saturday, and appropriate freshly baked rolls would be collected early Sunday morning from the bakery.  Cory started making potato salad and coleslaw Saturday. Kevin and Rob were sent off to pick up the meat while Tom and Christian went to play golf with Charlie. When they returned everyone was going to pitch in to help clean the house. Dooby disappeared as soon as they climbed from the Tahoe after Christian brought them from Charlie's. Tom looked around, "Where is Dooby anyway?" Scott grinned and nodded toward the pool, "It looks like he escaped already."  They looked out in time to see Dooby's head appear briefly he was wearing a dive mask and snorkel. He disappeared just as quickly. Christian started to open the door, "I'll get him out of there, he's not getting out of cleaning." Tom chuckled, "He isn't, getting out of cleaning I mean, he's cleaning the pool, see the vacuum hose? Watch this, Uncle John, his dad told me about how he does it." Over a minute went buy. Dooby bobbed up for a breath of air and sank again. "Sonofabitch," Rob marveled, "he'll be dragging ass by the time he gets done." He giggled at Cory, "It looks like you'll get a good nights' sleep tonight little bro." "Don't count on it. He does it like that for exercise and to burn off excess energy," Tom shrugged at the expressions of disbelief. "Taking care of the pool is his job and he's doing it." The next time Dooby's blond head surfaced he looked at the house and saw them watching him through the windows. He gave them the finger, frowned, spit the snorkel's mouthpiece and shouted, "I DON"T NEED AN AUDIENCE THANK YOU VERY MUCH, GET BUSY MOTHERFUCKERS!" The last part of him they saw was his finger again and the flash of flippers on his feet. When Kevin and Rob returned from their errands, the gates were open and Dooby was mowing the lawn outside along the road with his eyes on the side of the mowing deck. He saw them but ignored them until they stopped with a window down. Both were laughing at him. He stopped, shut the big machine down and screamed in the sudden silence, "WHAT?" Rob giggled, "Hey that mower looks like fun. Can I take a turn?" "No you can't. This is my ride. Just go on about your business, errand boys with drivers' licenses," Dooby declared in an envious huff and was about to start the engine again while they continued to sit and laugh. "What now?" "Nothing, except of course you know that you're outside the gates naked?" Kevin asked. Dooby grinned, showed them a gate opener remote and quickly looked both ways along the country road, "Yup, out here only takes two minutes and it's a hassle to put on shorts. Get out of the way so I can finish before I get caught." He started the mower before they could continue the conversation. He left them to travel the scant hundred feet on the other side of the drive before he could turn to retrace his course to the gate and safety. When he reached the end of the strip, he turned suddenly into the road so he could push both hand controls forward for maximum speed on the pavement. Bernice Patterson, Tom's mother slammed on her brakes to avoid a head on collision with the big lawnmower. She was grinning, following the mower slowly because she thought Tom was operating the machine. Both Dooby and her son were blond and wore their hair the same, messy, never combed for long and in constant need of a trim in her opinion. Dooby pulled back on the steering handles hard and the machine responded by stopping and instantly starting backward just inches from the Lincoln Town Car's front bumper. Surprise first, and then pleasure showed on Dooby's face when he recognized his aunt. He shut off the machine without otherwise moving. His long legs were stretched out and he was leaning back in the high back armchair seat. Feet weren't required to run the mower, just both hands simultaneously.  "Aunt Bernie! Wow, you scared the, err, crap out of me! Uncle Tommy said you were coming home sometime this weekend and here you are. Do you think you'll have time to make your baked beans for the barbecue tomorrow?" "Dooby! I thought you were Tommy, I was going to surprise him when he turned," Bernice called out the open window before she did a classic double take when she really looked at him sitting on the mower. She looked away into the woodland across the road, "Dooby dear, you're naked, why is that?" She called to the trees to avoid looking at him. He tugged futilely at the towel he was sitting on but couldn't use it to cover himself without standing and exposing himself further, so he compromised with a limp hanging corner over one thigh, "Yeah, well, I'm working on my tan, it's cooler, I'm saving on laundry and besides Aunt Bernie, you weren't supposed to be driving along this road just now," Dooby answered weakly. "Maybe I better get inside the gate before someone else comes along. We'll see you tomorrow anytime after ten o'clock okay?" He started the engine and wheeled around the side of the car, "BAKED BEANS!" he shouted as he passed the open window wearing a red faced grin. Bernice nodded. The sun went down and darkness fell. The house was immaculate, the pool and spa were clean, the deck was washed and all the new flowers were watered. Dooby seemed to be everywhere at once the whole day. He'd think of something, stop mowing, complete the forgotten duty and then resume mowing again. Cory got out an untouched cold roast and all the makings for sandwiches on hard rolls and still the sound of the mower continued out in the Lacrosse field. Scott went to get Dooby. He ran back in almost instantly, "Hey guys, you've got to see this." They went out to the edge of the pool deck to look down the slope at the field. They all started laughing. All they could see of the mower was a powerful spotlight Dooby was using as a headlight, racing along the length of the field. It spun around almost instantly at the end and began speeding for the opposite goal. "He must have found my spotlight in the garage. Come on. We'll have to drag him off that mower. He's got another hour to go." Cory grinned, "Don't bother, I'll get him." He ran back to the kitchen and made a sandwich. When he returned to where the guys were standing he carried a flashlight and the sandwich. He waved the flash light to get Dooby's attention. They saw the mower slow, stop and turn toward them. The powerful spotlight beam moved up the slope and stopped to illuminate Cory waving the sandwich. The mower raced toward them before it turned for the garage. The engine sound died in echoes from the interior. Dooby sat at his place at the breakfast bar, sighed, and licked his fingers one at a time after he finished his second sandwich. "Your mom's bringing baked beans tomorrow," he told Tom out of the blue. "Mom's home? How? I mean where?" Tom looked flustered. Dooby explained how he'd been caught outside the gates with a resigned shrug at the laughter from the guys. Tom wasn't laughing, he looked worried, and "You guys are out, at least to everyone coming tomorrow, all except my mother and some people Charlie introduced us to today, who want to meet you two birds. Mom doesn't know about me." The laughter died. Kevin studied the floor, "My parents don't know either. Rob and I have been talking about driving out there for a long weekend and just getting it over with before we even take our bags out of the truck, you know, like to save a trip." Rob draped a big arm over Kevin's shoulders, "Maybe they'll be more understanding than my father. He hasn't talked to me in a year. My moms' been working on him, but the last time I was home, my mother invited me for dinner," he interjected the reason, "well he went fishing, and he hates fishing. He's bent out of shape because of grandchildren. Shit, like all of a sudden I decided I wanted to be gay just to spite him. Italian fathers are tough, but on the brighter side, I'm still alive." "Do they live near here?" Dooby asked, when Rob nodded Dooby continued, "Invite them over tomorrow. If you can get him here, maybe my dad and Christian's could talk to him. Shit my dad's got the old double whammy on him, my older brothers' gay too, so he's got two of us to put up with. My dads' not happy about the kid thing either. My sister is his last chance. You should see how he eyes up Jennifer's boyfriend," a giggle escaped, "one minute he threatened to kill poor Lane and the next he gave him a summer job to keep him nearby, but really to keep him separated from Jennifer at least during the day since they started fucking around like a whole herd of rabbits." He looked at his watch and smacked his forehead, "Shit I was going to make brownies." He looked hopefully at Cory, "We'll come over extra early tomorrow and do it then." "When did you plan on finishing the mowing?" Cory questioned with a smile. "We'll come early, you mow and I'll bake." Dooby nodded, "That's a deal, and Mom's bringing a big Black Forest cake so we should be okay for dessert." He yawned legitimately, "Hey can someone take us home? If we have to get back here so early, we need to get to bed or we won't have time to do anything but sleep. I have to squeeze some oranges or poor Sprout will be all congested tomorrow and you know what that means." He waited for someone to ask the obvious, but no one did, they just waited. He laughed and hugged Cory, "It means that the big old bean stalk will start growing whenever it feels like it straight up out of his cute little tank suit." "I'm not wearing a tank suit tomorrow smart ass. I've got new baggy surfer's shorts." Dooby looked disappointed for a second, he brightened, "New pool rule; gay guys have to wear tank suits or get depantsed in front of all our straight parents AND my little sister, who by the way would like nothing better than to get a look at that prize whether any parents are around or not." "I'll drop you off on my way home," Scott volunteered after the laughter died. Cory sat on Dooby's lap in the passenger seat. They started making out shamelessly after Scott turned into the long driveway up to Charlie's house. Scott frowned at them and sighed, "After we finish the roast sequence tomorrow morning, I think I'll just bug out, I feel like a seventh wheel around you six guys." Both boys stopped what they were doing and looked concerned. "Invite a friend and after everyone leaves tomorrow night we'll be eight wheels," Dooby suggested with a leer. Scott shook his head, "That's the problem, I don't have a friend and I assure you I'm human. Just watching you two now drives me nuts." "No problem, I'll introduce you to my big brother. He'll be there and he doesn't have anyone around that I know of. He probably does at school or maybe not, he's kind of nerdy, you know shy and quiet but he's a really nice guy, after all, he's put up with my shit all these years." Scott looked interested and hopeful in the dashboard lights, "What's he look like?" Dooby shrugged and grinned, "Your average old guy, snaggle toothed and bald, a college beer belly, only one nut, but that doesn't matter because he's real short cock wise AND a needle dick." He saw Scott wince, unsure of the truth. He continued, "He's got a nice butt though if you like pillow asses and have a long enough cock to get through the blubber." Cory gave Dooby an elbow in the ribs, "Can't you see you're scaring him?" He turned to Scott, "Seriously, I've seen his picture, he's a really good looking guy, he looks like Dooby and his sister. The whole family is blond; they all look the same, kind of." Dooby started to preen, "Oh no, I shouldn't have said that about the family being good looking, Dooby's a throwback, straight to Narcissus; never compliment him before bed or he'll spend the night in front of a mirror." Dooby started tickling Cory, "Yeah like you never look at yourself in the mirror." "Stop it! I have to look in a mirror; I have to SHAVE every day." "OUCH!" Scott laughed as he stopped in front of the house. Dooby giggled, "I'm working on that motherfucker and just for that unkind slam, I'm going to give you the best head job ever as soon as we get to our room, so there!" "What time tomorrow morning?" Scott called to their backs. "Six-thirty, and thanks Scott!" Cory shouted before Dooby grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder in a firemen's carry. "THAT'S A WRAP!" Dooby shouted, and held a toothy smile waiting until he saw Scott move his eye from his Steadicam's eye piece to indicate that they were no longer being taped. "Man we're burning up, let's get wet." He and Cory pulled off their jerseys; tossed them and ran for the pool, while the very prejudiced audience applauded. Dooby persuaded Cory to wear a Speedo, and when they arrived at Tom and Christian's, they discovered that Scott wasn't wearing one under his conventional bathing suit, because he didn't own one. They took him by the arms to guide him to Tom's closet with its drawer full of the little suits. Scott emerged looking self conscious, concerned more about the bands of white surrounding his thighs and from his waist line down to the tight form fitting suit than how his body looked over all. He wasn't athletic, but was slender, wiry and both boys approved of what they saw before it was somewhat disguised behind brightly colored nylon. The first family to arrive was Artie and Jennifer with Lane at her side alternately holding hands or since parents weren't yet present, just as frequently with their arms around each other's waists and their hands wandering freely stopping just short of sensual. Dooby frowned at Lane when his eyes dropped to the Speedo riding dangerously low on Lane's hips. "Didn't dad pay you yet?" "Yeah, Friday was payday, why?" Dooby's scowl deepened, "I was just wondering when you were going to buy a bathing suit of your own, before you wear mine out." "But Dooby I don't wear it all that often; I will as soon as I get to Benson's." Lane protested. Dooby started giggling and backed away from his sister, "I know that, but you're wearing it out by letting Jennifer pull it down every chance she gets when you are wearing it. Her nails are sharp, look at all the pulls." Lane's guilty hands went automatically to the sides of his hips; Jennifer's most favored pulling places. He bent his lanky frame to look under his hands. Jennifer slapped one, "You are such a duffus, so gullible, and you fell for that!" She launched her small body at her brother and managed to hit him in the chest carrying him backward into the pool. Dooby surfaced screaming, turned his back to her and pulled the top of his suit out to be sure he wasn't bleeding from where she dug her nails into his crotch when they were under water. Jennifer grinned at Dooby's back, "You better just layoff today or you'll really get it." She warned while she scrutinized her long painted fingernails to be sure none were broken after Lane pulled her from the pool. Dooby limped dramatically to the ladder and dragged himself up to the deck. Artie stood back to the side wearing a smile but his eyes kept traveling to Scott. Scott was fiddling with a camera until the threesome appeared, after, he held it limply and forgotten. He also held his breath each time Artie's eyes touched his. Artie did look like Dooby or since he was the older brother, the other way around, Dooby looked like Artie or would in a few short years. Scott thought Artie was incredibly handsome, beautiful even, too much so ever to be interested in another guy who was just average in appearance with a face that no one would remember in a crowd. He thanked God for reminding him to put his tee shirt back on, then kicked himself mentally for not taking off his wire rimmed glasses, or even better, having the foresight to put in his contacts early that morning. Compared to Artie, Scott felt like the original ugly duckling that had matured into a goose instead of a swan. Dooby's wet hand on his arm brought him out of his daze, "Come on Scott snap out of it, meet my family." Dooby squeezed his arm and winked so Artie couldn't see it. Dooby was trying to tell him that he wasn't going to be fooling around, that he was match making and wanted the relationship to succeed. He started with Jennifer and Lane and introduced them as "the future Mr. and Ms. Lane Fulton. That is if Dad has his way." He grinned maliciously, "and if he doesn't," he giggled, "then I guess Jennifer will be just Jennifer Fulton, Lane's almost widow." Lane winced, "Come on Dooby, ease up and PLEASE don't start any shit when HE gets here. We're getting along pretty well after a week of busting my ass." He rolled his eyes, "I'm his personal helper and we're trimming a house." Dooby looked surprised, "Does he let you touch his tools?" "Yeah, now, but not at first, why?" Artie spoke for the first time, "That means you have potential. You have good hands." Dooby agreed, "Man does it ever, you'll know you have it made when you graduate to the miter saw."Artie nodded absently and hesitantly offered Scott his hand, "Hi, I'm Artie. That camera looks complicated to operate," he closed his mouth and hoped Scott would accept the opening and respond by answering." Scott did, "Not really it's a snap, come on, I'll show you what we're doing this morning real quick like to finish up the next show. Did you see the first one Thursday morning?" Artie and Scott walked to the grill with their heads together, leaving Dooby and Jennifer looking at each other with their mouths hanging open, "Sonofabitch, big brother talked; he's finally growing up," Dooby quipped with wonder in his voice. "You know it's really hard raising an older brother," he looked down his nose at Jennifer, "AND a little sister." Jennifer administered a hard kidney punch and grabbed Dooby's arm, "Yes and you leave them alone today too. Show us Uncle Tommy's house. Where is he anyway?" Dooby started laughing, "Old Mr. Efficiency forgot to buy booze, and a quarter keg for dad." Jennifer grinned and hugged Lane's arm, "Maybe Daddy will be hung over tomorrow and take the day off. That means you'll get the day off too." Lane burst Jennifer's balloon full of lecherous thoughts with a shudder, "If he did get that bad, I would definitely have to go into hiding and he wouldn't let you out of his sight the whole day." "Yeah Jennifer, plus today is Sunday, he won't get bombed, only on three day weekends remember?" Dooby added and swung his arm around the kitchen, "This is the kitchen obviously," he grinned at Cory and Christian, "and these are the scullery maids." "Wrong, we're finished." Christian sighed, "Actually cookouts are a lot of work considering that the cooking is supposed to be outside." Dooby collared Cory with his arm and looked at Christian, "Good, then you can finish giving them a tour; it is your house after all. Sprout and I will take a swim before we start taping. Show them your rogues' gallery." He eyed Lane's physique critically and shook his head sadly. "What now?" Lane asked as if he was being picked on after he sucked in his gut and puffed out his chest. Dooby grinned, "It's too bad you're straight, you could have been hanging there with us too." He pointed across the great room to the wall where four identically framed pictures hung. Jennifer towed Lane across the room by the hand while Christian followed reluctantly after Dooby got him started with a grin and a punch in the kidney. "Oh Lane, aren't they just beautiful?" Jennifer asked rhetorically as she studied each myopically. "Even Dooby looks real." Lane didn't answer. He unconsciously stood behind Jennifer and fitted his body to her back with his arms around her torso and rested his chin on the top of her head. Then he stepped sideways with her as she moved between the two stacked pairs. Dooby and Cory grinned together when they saw repeated reflexive hip movements between Lane and Jennifer. Dooby whispered, "I'm going to point them at our room. They can look at that by themselves before Mom and Dad gets here, otherwise they'll explode." Cory nodded. Dooby barely had time to finish his suggestion before Lane mumbled his thanks, tightened his grip on little Jennifer and picked her up so her feet dangled. He duck walked her down the hall. "And hurry up!" Dooby called to Lane's back, "Damn first its pulls in the fabric, now he's going to get the front all stretched out," he complained so they could hear. "Dooby that's gross!" Jennifer answered with a giggle before the bedroom door slammed. "CAN"T YOU EVER, JUST ONCE TRY CLOSING A DOOR WITHOUT SLAMMING IT?" Dooby shouted imitating their mother. Then "Well, that takes care of them for a couple of minutes. So much for the tour Christian, come on guys let's get wet." He stuck his thumbs in his waistline, "Damn these suits are tight, I wish we could go naked." Christian grinned, "You could always get a larger size." Dooby adjusted his package carefully before he allowed the elastic material to snap back in place, his eyes traveled to Cory's bulge, "Nah, palling around with Sprout, I need every advantage. Hey Cory meet my big brother Artie." Artie waved absently and was about to turn his attention back to Scott, until his eyes settled on Cory's speed suit. He whistled appreciatively, "Damn, you've got great taste little brother." He blushed suddenly when he realized he actually vocalized his thought. Dooby agreed with a giggle, "Yeah but I started to like him when he was wearing big baggy shorts," he pointed, "that's a lucky bonus. Who knew?" "Dooby lay off!" Cory laughed, waved self-consciously and jumped in the pool. Dooby and Christian followed. Artie shook his head in wonder. He looked at Scott, "Is that real do you think? It looks real, but on such a little guy." "Yup, it's real, not that I have a working acquaintance with it, but these guys are all nudists." He offered his video camera to Artie after he started to look through the camera after first settling his glasses in his hair, "Damn glasses I didn't have time to put in my contacts this morning, here I showed you how it works, put it on your shoulder and zoom on the diving trampoline. Tape a few of their dives and them messing with each other, I can always use it as we get into doing shows on grilling and barbecue stuff in a couple of weeks." He snapped his fingers, "You use this one when we tape the segment and I'll get out the Steadicam." Artie focused on Dooby, who won a rough race to the trampoline ladder. "I'm wearing mine today because I don't have prescription sunglasses. I normally wear glasses a lot like yours because I'm too lazy to take the time to fiddle with contacts. "Holy shit!" he mumbled when he really zoomed in on Cory's Speedo, "You'll have to edit this. That cock is definitely x rated. I wonder where, I mean how, I mean what does Dooby do with THAT? I'm not sure I wouldn't be in a wheelchair after, but what a way to go, as they say." Artie changed the subject while he followed his brother and Cory and their antics after Christian caught them and they ganged up on him. "I like them on you but I look like the nerd I am." "Huh?" Scott asked in surprise, he couldn't imagine that such a stunning human male like Artie could be so self-depreciating. "I mean your glasses; I think they're, well, cute, very attractive." Artie glanced to the side to see Scott blush furiously because of the compliment, "And you're even cuter when you blush," he giggled like his younger brother. His attention went back to the eyepiece in time to have the lens blocked by someone too close to see clearly. He focused on a massive darkly tanned hirsute chest five feet away, both arms were wrapped around large watermelons held on each shelf-like shoulder and which served to increase the width of Rob's shoulders dramatically. "Dooby?" Rob asked, "Oh no, not you behind the camera." He realized the cameraman wasn't Dooby when Artie tilted his head to the side and grinned. "Nope, I'm his brother Artie." He lowered the camera and offered his hand to the handsome giant. Rob swung the right hand watermelon down, palmed it and almost tossed it to Scott. "Here Scotty, do something with this will you? I told Kevin we didn't need two." Scott barely had time to raise both arms before the force of the quick handoff drove him back a step and he held the melon cradled in his arms against his chest. Rob looked back to see Kevin following him with his attention on the guys in the pool. "KEVIN, THINK FAST FARMER BOY!" Rob shouted as he tossed the second fruit in his direction. Kevin barely kept it from hitting the deck. Rob shook Artie's hand wearing a warm smile, "Man you scared me. If Dooby ever got interested in photography we'd all have to keep our bedroom doors locked tight." He looked up in thought for a second, "In fact that's not a bad idea anyway; in case you don't know it, your little brother picks some odd times at night to go visiting." "Wait just a damn minute!" Dooby complained. He stood in the pool with his elbows resting on the edge. He giggled, "If I was intruding, all you had to do was tell me. All this time, and I thought I was being helpful. You old guys get way too much sleep." He looked at his brother, "These guys are all so undersexed, after the second or third time they think that they're actually done for the whole night." "Imagine that." Artie said dryly and laughed, "You just remember little brother that I'm one of THEM." Dooby leered, "Not yet you aren't, but stick around until after Mom and Dad and the other really old folks leave," he winked meaningfully at Scott, "things change."Tom arrived on the deck lugging the little beer keg. He sent Dooby and Cory to get the ice, bottled beer, wine and a case of assorted hard liquor from the Tahoe after Dooby negotiated beers for them both. "Where'd you buy booze on Sunday morning?" Cory asked while he lined up bottles on a folding table that would serve as a bar. Tom grinned, "I didn't. I just picked up a phone order, officially anyway. It's one of the benefits of living in a small town. Everyone knows everyone. That man does an incredible business out of his back door every Sunday morning." Dooby handed out longnecks to everyone that wanted one, "How come you bought so many different kinds of booze?" Tom, Christian and Kevin grinned at him, Tom nodded at Christian after he looked at his watch, and "I guess its okay to tell him now." Christian beamed, "We played with some very important network guys yesterday. Charlie's bringing them today. Cookin' with Dooby is definitely going national but we don't know yet whether you'll be on a regular network or cable channel. Both want you for a summer fill in to start with. Whichever will see how the ratings look then make a decision about the fall season." "Whichever, meaning the highest bidder." Tom added before he frowned at Dooby when he saw the dollar signs appear in his eyes. "And don't you dare fuck with them either. They don't know you remember, except from seeing you on the first show. One guy is really fat, he didn't play, he just rode around with me. The guy is real southern country and is self made like Charlie. He told me he bought a down and out radio station in Atlanta for a thousand bucks and he borrowed that from twenty different people. He built a media empire from that one station. He saw the potential in cable TV before anyone and was waiting with channels ready when the first subscribers hooked up." Dooby looked seriously offended by the warning, "Hey Uncle Tommy, believe me I won't, the more you guys make off this deal," "Is that much more you're going to pay us," Cory finished Dooby's sentence. Both boys nodded together in total agreement. "How come you didn't tell us yesterday after you got back from the club?" "Because I didn't want you counting your chickens yet, this is not a done deal, they want to see the second show," Tom explained. "What denomination is the chicken on?" Dooby asked Cory with the hint of a smile. "It must be on thousand dollar bills, I've never seen one of those." "No way dope," Cory opened contract negotiations, "the chicken is definitely on the hundred thousand dollar bill." Dooby giggled, "Cluck, cluck, man I just love that sound." "Yeah," Cory agreed with an impish look at Tom, "you did say chickens, plural right?" Tom rolled his eyes, "I rest my case for not telling you." Scott snapped his fingers with an inspiration, "If they want to see the second show, I'll go cut in this last little segment as soon as it's in the can and they can look at it this afternoon." He laughed and looked at Cory and Dooby, who had their heads together talking quietly, "The more the highest bidder pays, the more we all make." Christian put an arm over Scott's shoulders and grinned at Tom, "All of a sudden we outnumber you badly; all includes the ad agency Mr. President of Spelling's." Tom surprised them by laughing, "Yeah partner that's right. It really boils down to us against Charlie. It isn't my decision since there's a conflict of interest." "Do you have any heavy duty aluminum foil Uncle Tommy?" Dooby asked. He and Cory were ignoring the sudden conspiracy. "Yeah, in the pantry, why, what are you two so serious about?" Cory answered, "You guys are the ones counting chickens already, we're going to catch ours first by cooking for them. We're going to have a clam bake." "This is Cory's idea; it'll make a great show, maybe just before the Fourth of July. Come on Sprout let's get started before they get here. What do we need to do?" Dooby looked at Scott, "DUH, are you guys going to tape this or what's the story?" Scott shook himself as if he was in a trance, "Are you guys wearing your shirts?" "No way, it's too fucking hot. This can just be a practice tape." They put the lid back on the grill they were using to cook the roast and rolled it out of the way, then replaced it with a second grill they were going to use for the day. Scott told Artie to have some fun with the video camera while he went off to get the Steadicam out of his van. When he returned the boys were in the kitchen scrubbing clams and washing half fryer chickens while they assigned the others to shuck ears of sweet corn. Artie was following the action with the lens over Cory's shoulder looking down on their hands while they both explained the importance of scrubbing all fresh poultry and the small cherrystone clams to remove all the sand from the cracks and crevices. Dooby giggled, "Everyone eat lots of these little beauties today, they put lead in your pencil and you old guys need all the help you can get." "You mean oysters and you're supposed to eat them raw, but I think that's an old wives' tale." Cory corrected. "Or if they work at all its probably psychosomatic." Dooby blinked and frowned, "Shit, I thought it was clams AND oysters. Raw huh, I like raw oysters but I never tried clams." He giggled again, "Of course a raw oyster looks like the stuff they're supposed to make more of." "Can you say stuff like that on television?" Artie whispered without thinking about the sensitive microphone mounted on the camera. Dooby winked and whispered back peering into the lens, "No you duffus, but this is just a practice tape and I'm trying really hard not to say cum, fuck and shit." Then in a normal voice, "Hey Uncle Tommy do you have one of those little knives?" "In the utensil drawer I think, and I also think you just did." "Did what?" Dooby asked while he rummaged in the drawer. "Say three of the no, no words." "I did? Well spit on me. Artie made me do it. He's been getting me in trouble with Mom and Dad for years. Whenever I got caught doing something, I'd blame him." Dooby turned to his brother and punched him in the shoulder so the camera jiggled, "and every time you'd just look guilty, keep your mouth closed and take the heat for me. Thanks for all those times big bro." Artie tilted his head away from the view finder, "What's happening to you Doob' are you growing up all of a sudden?" Dooby shrugged, "Sorry, I guess that was kind of hokey, but I just thought of it." "You're welcome, but just so you know, Mom and Dad were never impressed by that excuse and every time you used it, it made you automatically guilty." "Guilty of what?" Jennifer asked from behind them while she combed her damp hair with the fingers of one hand. The fingers of her other hand were tucked into Lane's waist line just in front of his opposite hip. She was pasted to his side under his long arm while his fingers flirted with her bikini top.  Both wore satisfied or temporarily satiated expressions. Dooby ignored her question. He looked at the kitchen clock and leered, "Damn, how many times?" Lane turned red under his tan while Jennifer turned haughty, "None of your business!" She dropped her act, looked up at Lane lovingly and held up three fingers proudly. Dooby nodded, grinned and put an arm over Lane's shoulders, "THREE, why congratulations brother-in-law to be, you are definitely the right choice for joining our family. Do you like raw clams?" he asked and offered one playfully before he sucked it from the shell. "If you do, you'll have to open them yourself, these things are like trying to cut open rocks," he smacked his lips, "but they're almost worth it." "Put some in the freezer for ten minutes, then they're easy. I love them, I'll open a bunch for you if you want," Lane volunteered. "Cut the bull Dooby, you're the cook, so cook. Here take this chicken out and brown it." The microwave sounded. Cory removed a bowl and handed it to Lane along with a basting brush, "You keep them painted with this stuff," he ordered. He turned on Jennifer, "And you can start getting the stuff out of the fridge, okay?" he asked with a smile. Dooby tried to salute with both hands busy holding a platter of raw chicken, "Yes Sir General Sir! Are you running for the job of Napoleon, or what's the story?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer. He nodded to Lane and they vacated the kitchen without further argument. Once outside, Lane giggled, "Man you're as pussy whipped as me." He realized what he said and blushed again. "Sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded, I'm still in shock about you and Christian being, well you know. And then seeing you with Cory, wow." Dooby shrugged, "No problem, you don't need to be embarrassed by saying shit like that. We're friends and you're right I am pussy whipped a little, we both are kind of, we bitch and argue but we never take it to bed because we're both too horny. Jennifer never really threatens to cut you off does she?" "Nope, not so far; to tell you the truth she's as horny as me. If we ever got lucky enough to spend a whole night together I think we'd both be dead by morning. Do you mind if I ask, well, what, that is," Lane stammered, then blurted, "What do you guys do together, I mean Cory looks so humongous and all. Do you ever let him?" Dooby rolled his eyes before he grinned, "If you mean let him get on top, every chance I get. But he likes getting it too so we switch around a lot during the night. Cory wasn't my first, so I knew what to expect kind of, just not how much of him I could take without getting my ass killed." Dooby checked Lane's bathing suit from the corner of his eye. There was a pronounced swelling. He saw his brother and Scott walk out of the house. They both had cameras and were training them on him but hadn't begun taping yet. "If you want to try it out sometime, top or bottom, just say the word. I would think being bi really kind of doubles your chances of getting nookie," he said quickly. Lane turned away from Dooby, handed him the brush without looking at him and ran for the pool after mumbling, "Man am I hot." "I noticed!" Dooby hollered with a giggle, "Remember, anytime!" He turned to the cameras and put on a beatific white toothed stage smile, "I'm just browning these half chickens and basting them with herbs and garlic butter, kind of half cooking them. Then when Cory gets his butt out here with the corn and cherrystone clams, we'll make up aluminum foil packages of, well you'll see." The grill flared up suddenly as the chicken started to cook. Dooby stepped back from the flames. "SPROUT, THE FUCKING CHICKEN IS ON FIRE! WHAT DO I DO?" Artie stepped to the side away from the heat, ignoring the conflagration. He turned his camera on his brother's profile and adjusted the focus to encompass his whole lithe moving body, "Damn, little brother has definitely grown up in all the right places. Good thing for us both that he's living here this summer, he's way too beautiful to jerk off to in my mind any longer," he thought and felt his cock begin to respond to his un-brotherly thoughts and guided the lens to the growing flames from the grill. Dooby thought of the two pressurized squirt guns Tom bought to play with around the pool, but since no one cared about getting wetter than they already were from swimming they weren't very much fun. He had the presence of mind to turn down the gas before he ran for the fiberglass dock box where all the smaller pool toys were consolidated for the cookout. The first one was empty, the second was half full, he pumped it frantically while he ran back to the grill and began shooting at the chicken from ten feet away. As he got closer, he lowered his aim, was more accurate and the flames died. "What did you say?" Cory called from the great room doorway. Dooby gave him a very brief murderous look before he resumed talking to the cameras as if nothing unusual happened, "You always have to be careful when using gas grills," he warned his imaginary audience, "especially when grilling chicken. The fat melts and drips and if you aren't careful," there was a small flare up at that moment, which he sprayed with the water gun, "you could end up with nothing to eat." He paused to read the name of the toy manufacturer before continuing smoothly, "That's why I always keep this Surefire Pressurized Water Cannon made by the One Hung Low Toy Company." He giggled at his lame joke, "That's not it really, I just can't pronounce the real name, it's Chinese," he interjected, "handy. These are fun to use even when there is no fire to put out, like on useless cameramen who keep taping even when THEIR FUCKING DINNER IS BURNING UP!" He screamed at his brother while maintaining his smile, holding the trigger down and drenching Artie's crotch. Artie grinned, held his camera steady and continued taping. Scott moved to the side, focused on the stream of water coming from the nozzle and followed it to Artie's bathing suit. The splash started to move up Artie's body as Dooby raised the muzzle. "CUT, Dooby don't you dare get that camera wet or this one either," he warned quickly and back peddled to get out of range when the stream started to move in his direction, "unless you have twenty five grand you don't know what to do with." There was a babble of voices from inside the house as their families started to arrive. The taping resumed, the boys assembled the promised foil packages of chicken, a dozen clams and an ear of sweet corn after each was painted with the basting sauce. Both talked and joked for the cameras as they worked at a folding table. They were concentrating on what they said and what they were doing and didn't notice their friends and families move chairs around quietly to form a live audience until they finished putting the packages back on the grills. There were too many to fit on one, so they snuggled the rest under the roast. "CUT for now," Dooby announced, "Damn its hot, time for a pool break." Cory agreed with a nod. They both looked up when the applause started. Both grinned foolishly and bowed, "Hi everyone, we aren't used to audiences. We were taping this for the practice, it won't get to television. We aren't dressed and I might have said a naughty word or two, they kind of leak out, plus we weren't hyping any products." There was more laughter and a ragged chorus of amazed "One or two?" Dooby giggled and shrugged. Cory nudged his side and said quietly, "Plus I was standing up." "So?" "So everyone could see how tall I'm not." Dooby pushed Cory toward the pool and some privacy, "Look man you've got to get over worrying about this short shit. Look at Charlie, it doesn't bother him," he laughed, "of course he's had a hundred years to adjust." He got serious, "Look, just think about your last name being Cory Spelling shortly. What does Gramps say? Something about being the tallest hog at the trough, the trough being the bank I guess. That's what counts. He hasn't said but I would bet that at some time in the future, hopefully the distant future, you'll own all the chickens in your new father's coops AND the fucking coops, how many are there now, nearly three hundred? Then add in Justa Pizza, man think about that, free pizza for life. The thing is why do you  care if someone thinks you're short, if they're fucking stupid enough to let you know what they think, you can always squash the shit out of them somehow, like don't get mad, get even." Someone, a stranger talking with Charlie and looking at the two of them standing in the pool caught Dooby's eye. He turned away from them. "Check out the dudes talking to Gramps. Two of them look like normal business guys; I'll bet they're from the national network. Just look at the third one, the fat one, Tom didn't say how fat, that old geezer owns the media empire." Cory peeked around Dooby's shoulder and straightened before he started giggling, "He's kind of like Dad, just add three hundred pounds and sit him in an electric scooter. I wonder where he got that Hawaiian shirt, it must be triple extra large and the buttons are still strained to the max." Dooby agreed with a grin, "Yeah but the point is he really doesn't care how he looks in that fucking ugly shirt. Maybe he's wearing it on purpose just to see how people react, how we'll react when Gramps introduces us. Just think about how Gramps talks like he's illiterate at times. I'm not laughing at this guy because he's one of those tall hogs too." Cory looked over Dooby's shoulder, "Well you better look like you're damn dog just died, because here they come." Dooby sank under quickly and resurfaced immediately shaking his head to get some water out of his hair. His face was a mask of solemnity. Cory was already wading toward the odd looking foursome; Charlie, the fat man in the scooter, and the two worried looking executives dressed in recently purchased baggy shorts and casual pullover shirts. They flew in from Los Angeles to make their proposal and weren't expecting to socialize at a picnic. "Hi Dad," Cory grinned up at them. Dooby moved to Cory's side and leaned on Cory's shoulder with one arm. "What were you two so serious about a minute ago?" Charlie wondered. Cory looked to Dooby for a quick answer and was shocked when Dooby told the truth, "Same old shit Gramps, here we are in the middle of the shoot and duffus realizes that he's standing up alongside me instead of sitting on his stool." "So?" Charlie looked puzzled but actually wasn't. "So if that was for real everyone would know how tall he was. I just got done telling him he was one of you tall hogs at the trough and who gives a shit anyway except to be envious, damn Gramps I'm envious." He winked so Cory couldn't see him. Cory held his breath waiting for Dooby to point to the water distorted bulge in his bathing suit. Dooby dumbfounded him, "You know this little shit can vacuum under furniture without bending down almost!" Dooby was giggling and already falling to the side, swimming away before Cory could grab him. "And I have to bend almost double!" he finished from twenty feet away. He glided back after Cory gave him a double barrel finger and laughed. Charlie and the others stopped laughing finally. "Well boys, now that you understand that stature in business has nothing to do with height in feet and inches, come on out of there and meet these gentlemen. We ain't talkin' business today; they just wanted to meet you two characters since you're the show after all." Dooby and Cory glanced at each other; Charlie was in his country bumpkin mode. The pair of executives couldn't quite hide slight smiles; it was obvious that they were already underestimating Charlie. He introduced them first and they immediately began explaining what they envisioned for the show on national television, as if they would make the decision, ignoring Charlie's admonition about talking business. The fat man goosed his scooter forward aiming his front wheel at the executive's feet. Both jumped back. "You two boys are rude cocksuckers ain't cha'? The man said no business, but since you started it I want equal time. He pointed to empty chairs at the far end of the pool, "Come on lads lets us chat after you fetch us something cold to drink." He offered the boys his hand after parking with his back to the network executives, "Name's Auggie, August Bligh, after the month. Call me Auggie. Always glad I wasn't born in April, May or June." He cringed, laughed at himself and shook hands like he meant it ignoring their wet ones. "My momma wasn't very original when I popped out. I was the last of seven." Dooby and Cory giggled, empathizing with Auggie and his name. "What would you like to drink?" Dooby asked. Auggie shrugged after checking his watch, "Two beers with a rare burger on the side if it ain't too much trouble. It's ten-thirty already an' a tide-me-over until lunch and one of them clam bake things is done. They sure smell great already." The boys found themselves running to get the drinks. "I like him already," Dooby announced. Cory looked up at Dooby with a raised eyebrow and a pixie grin. "What?" "You would look like Martha Stewart if you let your hair grow, plus you're a natural blond, that would save time at the hair dressers." Dooby giggled, "Yeah, those assholes. Can you picture us doing a show like hers? That's what they want isn't it. If Auggie hadn't tried to run them down I would have laughed in their faces." "I hope Auggie is the high bidder don't you? Of course his concept could be just as bad." "Yeah but at least he's got a sense of humor." Tom and Christian were busy tending the grills. Cory looked aghast and ran at Christian to snatch the long handled fork out of his hand, "Dope! Use tongs to turn them over; the whole idea is STEAM! NO HOLES! Don't you know anything?" Christian pouted, "No I don't, not about cooking these. I'm a hot dog, steak and burger man, that's it." "Good, because Auggie wants a rare burger with all the trimmings please." Dooby ordered. Tom frowned, "That's just great. The only problem is there's no room to cook anything until these are finished." Dooby cupped his mouth, "Earth to Uncle Tommy," he boomed, "put these motherfuckers in the oven to finish." "DOOBY!" John and Betty DuBois shouted simultaneously. The guilty party winced, "Hi Mom and Dad! I didn't see you standing so close. Uncle Tommy would have thought of that eventually, but this is his first big bash. He'll calm down by next month in time for the next one to celebrate us going national." "If you don't start watching your language in mixed company you won't be at the next one, because you'll be dead," his father warned, then "Did you get started on Tommy's summer kitchen?" "I got the shop done, but I haven't had time yet, maybe tomorrow and next week. I'll take you down there in a while; right now Cory and I are busy kissing ass, ah, I mean butt. Did you meet Auggie? He's a pretty cool old dude so far, but of course we haven't seen the color of his money yet. We gotta get them drinks. How long before his burger's ready?" Dooby asked Christian who was then loading a tray Tom held to clear the grill of its foil packages. Christian gave him a murderous look, "Get away from us before the dude has to dig his hamburger out of your ass!" "WELL!" Dooby turned haughty, before he thought of the possibilities, "Hey Sprout, you know that's something we haven't tried." Cory ran to the drink tubs, "Don't look at me," he giggled. "Let's get a pail and put in extras, of course to save trips." Dooby scooted into the house and garage, he returned with the pail used to wash vehicles, "Good thinking partner, of course to save trips." When they got back with the pail of long necks, the table umbrella was up and Auggie had moved to the shaded area with Charlie, which left the network guys sitting and sweating in the sun. Charlie winked at Cory after checking to see that his mother was chatting with Betty. "I see you brought extras just in case I wanted one or two; I don't so you two can have mine if one of you will get me a real tall bourbon  and water with lots of ice." Cory and Dooby looked at each other waiting for the other to volunteer, "Pick a number," Cory suggested with a laugh. Dooby stood up and sighed, "Never mind, I'll go, but one of these days I'm going to win that fucking game of yours." Dooby ran because he didn't want to miss anything. He handed Charlie an iced tea glass that was overflowing with what looked like iced tea. Charlie sniffed the drink cautiously and immediately pulled his head back, "Dooby my boy if all else fails you can work for me as my personal bartender." "Gee, thanks Gramps. I'm sorry I couldn't find any water but I figure the ice will melt." He raised his bottle, "Cheers!" and took a long pull. "Now it's your turn Auggie. How do you think we should do the show, and please don't suggest that I try to out do old Martha in the kitchen, I can't really cook worth shit except if Cory's looking over my shoulder." Charlie waved Dooby to silence, "To quote Scott, `I believe that was my line.', but I have to agree, Martha, you ain't." Auggie nodded and peered through the glass tabletop. Dooby was stretched out so his little butt was balanced on the chair seat frame. His long legs reached across to tap the front tire of Auggie's scooter with his toes. Cory sat more upright and was turned slightly so one knee vibrated nervously against Dooby's thigh. "Nope you most definitely ain't. I don't think I'd touch your little cookin' show. I'd put it on as is." He glanced at Charlie, "Your labels would have to go until you put stores in more states so folks watchin' recognize the name. I expect the national brands would pick up the slack more `an somewhat; edibles, pots an' pans, clothes, shoes, even the kitchen cabinets. Nope I wouldn't change a thing there." Dooby and Cory looked somewhat disappointed, but were relieved that they didn't have to imitate someone else's show. Auggie grinned, "Nope, but what I believe I'd make a show out of is the out takes. I'd put in another crew to tape the cookin' show gettin' made." Auggie started laughing, "I about split a gut when you dropped that egg. A slick producer would `a cut that out, but that was impactful. I right then started thinkin' about what else happened that got cut but the rest of your audience will remember that egg and associate it with you. They'll remember to watch Thursday again to see how you fuck up again and you better somehow or they'll be disappointed. I believe I could get an hour of pure fuckin' laughs just by followin' you two birds around in between times like to see how you fuck around while the stuff is cookin'. Like right now, if we wasn't here, you'd be in that pool tryin' to drown each other an' everyone else fool enough to get in there with you, am I right? What I'm thinkin' of is called reality TV." Dooby and Cory grinned and nodded. Cory burst into laughter, "Do you want to know how he fucked up the roast beef?" "Now don't start on me," Dooby warned before he got defensive, "We have different ways of testing to see if its done that's all." Everyone looked at Cory, "We have this meat fork that registers temperature. Dooby was keeping an eye on the roast, you know sticking it now and then, we thought. No one was paying attention. When he started hollering that it was finished, that would be rare, we took our places and Scott started taping Dooby taking the roast out of the oven. Scott zoomed in on the pan sitting on the counter and guess what, there were big chunks missing." Dooby pouted, "It's done if it tastes done and there was still plenty left. They were just little chunks, more like notches," he concluded weakly. "See, something like that can't be scripted. Is that still in the show?" "Probably, Scott's a sneaky prick. He said the egg wouldn't be." Dooby acted morose but couldn't hide his grin. "So you want to put on a whole other show with stuff like that in it?" "Yup, completely candid, pure reality, late, after ten o'clock, you wouldn't have to watch your language, there could be a certain amount of nudity and you'd be goin' up against `Sex in the City', `Queer as Folk', an' all them other so called adult shows that everyone watches includin' kids." Cory and Dooby looked at each other, they grinned and nodded together. Dooby looked at the two network executives, "Sorry guys, you understand how your idea sucked the biggie don't you?" The younger one nodded, "I told them in the office that this trip was a waste of time. Our concept wouldn't have lasted two shows." The second executive frowned at his partner. "Like I said, these guys aren't acting, they plan what they're going to say, then they adlib everything and the show comes off looking like it was live like old time TV when the big variety shows were broadcast live and anything could happen and did." He grinned at Auggie, "I look forward to seeing your concept on the air. Your ratings should go through the roof." Auggie smiled, "You ain't that old son." "Nope, but they're putting some on DVD's now. Red Skelton or one his guest stars fucked up somewhere on every live show and those were the funniest parts." "I guess we'll be on our way," the older executive stood and offered Charlie his hand. He pointedly ignored Auggie and walked away. Dooby looked amazed, "Hey aren't you going to stay for something to eat? After lunch we're going to get up a Lacrosse match, it's more fun with bigger teams. Then we're having steak and big old Maine lobsters for dinner with I guess prime rib on the side since we just cooked a roast for the show." Christian whistled shrilly and held up a burger. "My turn on the bottom," Cory volunteered and went to get Auggie's midmorning snack. Charlie noticed his glass was empty, "I better refill this myself if I want to be awake for lunch." He winked at Dooby and picked up the empty pail, "One more won't hurt you I guess." The young executive looked embarrassed by his associate's snub. He put out his hand to Auggie, "Sorry about that, it was his idea, and he's also my boss. I'll be taking some heat for not keeping my big mouth shut." He moved to Dooby, "Sorry I can't stay or believe me I would. This look's like a fun party." "Want a job?" Auggie asked suddenly. "Seriously? Maybe, doing what?" Auggie cocked his head, "Maybe executive produce my new show, Dooby `n Company or More Dooby, Dooby Behind the Scenes, somethin' like that, you interested? Think quick or the offer's cancelled." "I'll have to resign; I could start in say two weeks." Auggie giggled, "Nah, I can speed that up. What's your name again?" "Ryan, Ryan Bronson." "HEY YOU!" Auggie shouted so Ryan's boss turned back, "Ryan here says FUCK YOU TOO BUDDY! He'll see you in the ratings!" He took Ryan's limp hand. Selected his middle finger and pulled it straight before he waved Ryan's whole arm up and down. "That takes care of your resignation don't it? Set and have a beer, get drunk, I'm plannin' to, or go take a swim with these young yahoos, whatever, you're off the clock. We'll talk turkey tomorrow on the plane back to Atlanta." Ryan ran his hand over his face, "Shit, you work fast. Thanks, I'd swim but I don't have a suit." Dooby bounded to his feet, "No problem, Uncle Tommy's got plenty," he giggled, "come on." He paused by Auggie, "You know if our parents weren't here we'd be skinny dipping." He pulled his suit down at the hip so Auggie could see his tan, "See?" Auggie nodded, looked briefly and shifted his eyes, "I see lots boy. My gaydar ain't broke yet, just the rest of me. I won't mind seein' more of you boys at some point as that's about the only pleasure I got left."