Sex and Violence in Hollywood Read Online Free Page B

darkroom, filled it with everything he needed, all purchased on his dad’s credit card, and made his first mask. A reptilian face with a curved, sharp beak and bulging yellow eyes. Masks and body parts soon filled the shelves, and he was always trying to make Adam up as a zombie or burn victim.
    While Adam was impressed with Carter’s abilities—he had started out pretty good and improved rapidly—he simply could not get excited about the field. About six months after starting. Carter had asked him about his lack of enthusiasm.
    “You just don’t like movies, admit it,” Carter had said.
    “I love movies. Carter. I just don’t like the business of making them or the people in it. Well...your dad’s a nice guy, but he’s an exception. My dad’s a prick. If I got into the movie business, any part of it, I’m afraid it wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t enjoy movies anymore. Before I...became like my dad. I’d rather die than be like him. You know that.”
    “Yeah, I know.”
    “But you’re so good at this, Carter! Just because I’m not interested doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go into it. You’d probably end up being one of the best in the business.”
    “Oh, no, I don’t wanna do this for a living,” Carter had said.
    “You don’t?”
    “And work with pricks like your dad? Are you on crack? It’s just something I like to do.”
    “Well, you’re going to have to do something, eventually. We both will.”
    Carter shook his head. “It’s just a hobby.”
    “It’s sure an expensive hobby.”
    Carter had grinned. “That’s the one good thing about the movie business. It pays my dad enough to afford all this shit.”
    The attic stairs were at the end of the second floor hall and were narrower and steeper than the others in the house. The door at the top bore two vintage ‘70s movie posters: The Incredible Melting Man and The Devil’s Rain. Oddly enough, Carter had purchased all of his horror movie posters prior to his interest in the mechanics of horror movies. He had started a movie poster collection when he was a little kid, about the same time Adam had started his.
    The door was locked, so Adam knocked hard and shouted Carter’s name to be heard above the music. The music lowered and the door opened.
    “Hey!” Carter said. He wore an enormous T2 T-shirt—even on Carter it was billowy—and a pair of baggy, dark blue shorts. His hands appeared to have been sprayed with blood. “C’mon in.”
    Adam closed the door and followed Carter into the brightly lighted room. More movie posters covered the walls and slanted ceiling.
    “What are you working on?” Adam asked. He went with Carter to a rectangular table stained with paint and covered with what would look to most people like junk. Adam saw the work in progress.
    In front of him lay a severed male human head. No, it looked more like it had been torn off than severed. The neck ended in a dangling mass of bloody meat, veins, and a stump of neck bone. Carter had been putting on the gory finishing touches.
    “Carter, that’s...disgusting,” Adam said, and he meant it. “Really awful. I don’t know if I can look at it much longer.”
    Carter grinned. “Thank you. Here, look at this.” He put an index finger in the mouth and pulled it open. It looked as if the head had been silenced in the middle of a scream. “And this.” He reached into the mouth with thumb and finger and pulled a pliable, glistening tongue forward until it rested on the bottom teeth. Even the teeth, which were not perfectly straight—one in the front was even chipped—looked remarkably authentic. “This moves, too.” He wiggled the stump of neck bone, which ended in a jagged break on the bottom. Then closed his fist on the long salt-and-pepper hair that fell all around the bald pate. Held up the head by the hair and let it dangle, face tilted slightly downward. It looked as if he had just ripped it off the body.
    Adam shook his head in awe. “Does it