Sexy Evil Genius Page #2

as we showed them our money...

So now we've got no IDs

and no money to even buy tickets,

but Nikki won't give up.

- No, she never gives up.

- Never ever.

She makes me drive to the Roxy way early

and wait until the band shows up.

All right, we're here, but I'm telling you,

they're never gonna let us in without IDs.

Trust me, this is gonna work. Take this.

- And then she attacks them...

- Comrades.

... pretending to be

this Russian journalist.

We come all the way from Moscow to see

Go Go Zombies perform in USA.

- Magazine?

- It's like our Russian Rolling Stone.

"Russian Rolling Stone."

Da, comrade.

"You big. Go Go Roxy Zombies big.

"Tell us American Russkie comrades."

Number one record.

Yeah!

So give samurai!

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

- Great.

- You take a picture with us.

Good. Okay, get in close.

Yeah, everyone close together.

Maybe not as close. You come...

So they invite us backstage.

We get to see the show for free.

But then afterwards,

I can't find Nikki anywhere.

She's gone.

I know where this is going, man.

Then the next day, I see her at school.

- Hi.

- Hi.

Where'd you get all those hickeys?

I confront her, but Nikki

claims that she can't remember

how she got the hickey necklace.

Because of this drinking game

they played on the bus ride home.

I'm sorry that I made you worry.

I love you, Zachary Newman.

I chose to believe it

because just being with Nikki was...

Is the most fun I've ever had.

I got a story just like that one.

So when the Rebops got together,

we couldn't get arrested.

There's maybe five,

six decent joints in this town

that'll even book

a traditional jazz band, right?

Nikki disappears for a few days.

Disappears.

Nikki?

Now, I know about her bad habits

and I'm worried, you know, sick

that she might be back on the spike.

No. She returns. "Hey, baby."

And by the way, the Rebops

have a Saturday night gig

at the Grill, the hottest spot in town,

the hottest.

We go, we do the damn thing. Kill it.

The place is packed

and they are feeling us strong.

It's the most intense experience.

But the whole night,

this manager dude who books the bands

is just staring at Nikki, drooling.

After the show was over, this guy comes up

and he's got his hands all over her.

I get it.

She cut out on me to hang out

with this band manager guy

and that's how we get the gig

in the first place.

Let me guess. You forgave her.

I did.

Thanks to her, the Rebop word got out.

Yes, I did. You know,

we were happening, man.

Three gigs a week, real money,

living the dream.

You know, {just put that

problem to the back of my mind,

wrote it off as like

a sacrifice that she made for us.

Sucker me.

She cuts out.

This...

God, I know that feeling.

Yeah.

Okay, I have a story that beats you both.

When we first met,

Nikki and I were both recovering.

- I'm Nikki.

- Miranda.

Nikki didn't want me to know

that she was this privileged girl

who got stuck on smack the first time

she escaped her suburban life,

so she created an entire back story.

She was a fashion model in Amsterdam,

studied yoga in India.

She was living on some

f***ing billionaire's yacht

playing the congas in a salsa band,

except she had to quit that

because of the stalker.

- That one I heard.

- Bullshit.

Look, she was still being stalked

when we were dating.

Really? Did you ever actually see the guy?

I... No. Just pictures, but...

It was all a lie.

And these lies start piling up

and I start asking questions.

She invites me to this dinner party, right,

to finally meet all the friends

that she talks about

that I haven't met.

There's a guy from her ashram in India.

There's the Dutch couple that knew her in

Amsterdam when she was on the runway,

and this funky dude

that played in her salsa band,

and this weather-beaten dude

that just sailed in to town,

the skipper on the billionaire's yacht.

I left that dinner party

believing every inch

of that intricate web of lies Nikki weaved.

A few weeks later,

I was bumming around Melrose

and I decided to pop

into that improv theater.

Five of the people

at Nikki's dinner party on the stage.

And those people?

You're all f***ing actors.

I looked at pictures

of your children for 20 minutes.

Do you think that was fun for me?

It wasn't.

Nikki hired and directed

a f***ing improvtroupe?

She did.

- Get out.

- Pure evil genius.

- I fell for it hard.

- Let me guess.

You didn't break up with her that night,

did you?

Worse.

What the f*** are you doing here?

You're lucky my landlord didn't shoot you.

Relax. There's nobody home.

I got your message.

And I wanted to be honest with you,

tell you the truth about me,

something that I should really do.

Really? That would be nice.

I'm sorry that I lied to you.

I realized

that I don't wanna lose you.

What do you want from me?

You.

Do you know what else I want?

No.

Company.

Get in the pool. Please.

That night I let Nikki seduce me

for the very first time.

The lies began your relationship?

- Yep.

- Get out.

I guess it was just so romantic, you know,

that she would wanna

go through all these lengths

to keep up this fantasy

world that we built.

- How long did it last?

- 100 days.

Then I had to puff the plug.

I mean, I had to get back to real fife

I swear, kicking Nikki was even f***ing

harder than kicking heroin.

Well, you're stronger than me and Marvin.

- We both got dumped.

- Look, knowing this, right,

that she's got these mad lying skills,

doesn't that put a little doubt

in this whole insane asylum scenario?

Yeah, I guess, but, I mean, I googled it.

There were case numbers and legal briefs.

I guess you could fake that sh*t, but why?

Who knows? I mean, with Nikki

the truth is always relative.

I do know one thing. She got us together

knowing full well we'd be sitting here,

waiting for her, talking about her...

- Right.

...and murder.

I got a text from Nikki.

So do I.

Yeah, me three.

"Sorry I'm late. OMG, traffic.

"Bringing my next victim.

You guys get cozy.

Talk about My Life With The

Thrill Kill Kult See you soon."

That's what mine says, too.

Same.

Next victim? That sounds ominous.

And she claims she's in a cult.

Man, this is bizarre.

No way.

Marvin doesn't know about

Nikki and the Thrill Kills,

the name of Nikki's all-time favorite band.

- My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult.

- Who are they?

Why mention them in a text?

In case you haven't talked

about my recent role

as a psycho killer, please, do tell.

Hold on a second.

Figures they'd have

the Thrill Kills on the jukebox

in the place that Nikki picked to meet.

Come on, Nikki couldn't stand

this bubble-gum stuff, man.

She could hardly tolerate classic rock.

Marvin, dude,

the bubble-gummier, the better.

She didn't just like classic rock,

she loved Styx and Meat Loaf and Kiss.

Yeah, any band that wears leather,

spandex or spiked wristbands.

Or performs in their underwear,

furry animal costumes.

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