Naked Lunch Page #3

Good. We like confidence in an agent.

But don't let it make you careless.

I was, uh -

I was just in the...

process of configuring my report.

That's good, Lee. Admirable.

But there have been some changes -

- Changes at the top.

- Oh? Yeah?

Good changes, Bill.

Fresh blood. Sparkling insights.

Uh, Bill, could you do me a favor?

What?

I want you to type

a few words into me -

words that I'll dictate to ya.

Yeah.

Sure. What the hell.

Okay. Now, the first sentence is...

"Homosexuality is the best

all-around cover an agent ever had."

Aw, come on, Bill.

Don't be such a pansy!

Be forceful.

Hurt me.

I love it.

That is a great sentence.

These are words to live by, Bill.

I'm glad these words

are going into your report.

Our new management will be so pleased...

that you see our point of view.

What -What point of view?

Well, uh, just that we appreciate...

that you might find the thought

of engaging in, uh, homosexual acts...

morally and, uh, possibly even...

physically repulsive...

and, uh, we are encouraged...

that you are able to overcome

these personal, uh, barriers...

to better serve the cause

to which we are all so devoted.

You have left the Clark Nova at home?

It's doing all right without me.

And, uh...

you have contacted Dr. Benway?

I told you before

I never met the man.

Bill, I can smell him on you.

Benway marks out all those

whom he has met like a lemur...

pissing on a liana vine

to mark his territory.

You're a marked man, Bill.

Joanie.

Joanie, shall we go?

Yes. Yes.

Hans. Hans, that couple.

Who are they?

They are Tom and Joan Frost.

Americans who have lived here

a very long time.

They're both writers.

Writers of fiction, like you.

They live in a nice flat...

in the new building

at the foot of the mountain.

They're visited constantly...

by many handsome,

young Interzone men.

Sometimes...

two or three at a time.

Can you, uh, introduce me?

I do not think

it would be to your advantage.

For some reason...

that woman has taken

a serious dislike to me.

Kiki.

Come sit with us.

Kiki, this is Mr. Lee.

Hello.

Mr. Lee is curious

about the Frost couple.

He would like to meet them.

I think the woman would have

sex with you, Mr. Lee.

The man, he only likes Interzone boys.

I don't want to f*** 'em.

I just want to talk to 'em.

You know how

Americans are, Kiki.

They love to travel...

and then they only want to meet

other Americans...

and talk about how hard it is

to get a decent hamburger.

There's a party tonight

at the O'Leary place.

Frost will be meeting

a group of us here...

and then walking

through the casbah.

My friends and I would be happy

to take you with us.

You're the new writer, aren't you?

You've just arrived.

A few days ago.

I write, uh, reports.

Oh? Uh, and did you

come to Interzone for the boys?

- No, I didn't.

- Tom and I did.

That's quite a hot threesome

you arrived with.

They're very cheap,

and they're really a lot of fun.

Yoo-hoo!

You use a Clark Nova, don't you?

To write with. Typewriter.

Oh, I do. Yes.

I wouldn't use a Clark Nova myself.

- Too demanding.

- Demanding?

Oh, come on. We're both writers.

We know what we're talking about.

Well, I'm new to this game,

to tell you the truth.

If I get blocked again,

I'll let you try my Martinelli.

Her inventiveness will surprise you.

I can't wait.

They say you murdered your wife.

- Is that true?

- Who told you that?

Word gets around.

It wasn't murder.

It was an accident.

There are no accidents.

For example...

I've been killing my own wife slowly,

over a period of years.

- What?

- Well, not intentionally.

I mean, on the level of conscious intention,

it's insane, monstrous.

But you do consciously know it.

You just said it. We're discussing it.

Not consciously.

This is all happening...

telepathically.

- Nonconsciously.

- What do you mean?

If you look carefully at my lips...

you'll realize

that I'm actually saying something else.

I'm not actually telling you

about the several ways...

I'm gradually murdering Joan -

about the housekeeper Fadela,

whom I've hired...

to makeJoan deathly ill by witchcraft...

about the medicines

and drugs I've given her...

about the constant nibbling away

at her self-esteem and sanity...

that I've managed

without being at all obvious about it.

Whereas Joanie finds that she simply...

cannot be as obsessively precise

as she wants to be...

unless she writes

everything in longhand.

Look, uh, I'm afraid, um...

I'm not gonna be

very good company tonight.

Thanks for the invite anyway.

I think, I'll have to take a rain check.

Oh.

Enjoying the beach?

I would never have expected

to see you up and out so early.

You certainly were in rough shape

at the O'Leary party last night.

Was I?

You were very raw -

emotionally, I mean.

You seemed to be in a lot of pain.

Pain.

I don't remember... pain.

And, in fact, I don't remember

the O'Leary party.

In fact, I don't remember you.

Well, it was a very intense

performance in any case.

My name's Cloquet.

Yves Cloquet.

Can I buy you breakfast?

I've seen you around,

but I had no idea you were queer.

Queer.

I saw you arrive

with those three Interzone boys.

What an entrance.

You all looked very...

familiar with each other.

Queer.

A curse.

Been in our family for generations.

The Lees have always been perverts.

I shall never forget

the unspeakable horror...

that froze the lymph in my glands...

when the baneful word seared

my reeling brain:

I...

was a homosexual.

I thought of the painted,

simpering female impersonators...

I had seen in a Baltimore nightclub.

Could it be possible

I was one of those subhuman things?

I walked the streets in a daze...

like a man with a light concussion.

I would have destroyed myself.

But a wise old queen

Bobo, we called her.

taught me that I had a duty...

to live and to bear my burden

proudly for all to see.

Poor Bobo came to a sticky end.

He was riding in

the Duc de Ventre's Hispano-Suiza...

when his falling hemorrhoids

blew out of the car...

and wrapped around the rear wheel.

He was completely gutted,

leaving an empty shell...

sitting there

on the giraffe-skin upholstery.

Even the eyes and the brain went...

with a horrible "schlupping" sound.

The duke says he will carry that ghastly

schlup with him to his mausoleum.

You sound as if you could use a drink.

My place?

A drink.

A drink?

No.

No, I can't. I gotta go home.

I have a...I have a...

I have a report to write.

Excuse me.

Hmm.

You made a big hit

with our young friend Yves.

- Yves?

- Cloquet.

Yves said you were wonderfully funny.

Said you did a little routine that made him...

chuckle to himself all day.

Yes, you-you could, um -

You could probably get him into bed

if you worked at it a bit.

Deadly aphrodisiac, humor.

I'm not, uh -

I don't really-

Have you seen Hans around?

Oh, you mean you haven't heard?

No. I haven't heard.

Hans was arrested and deported

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