Getting Garbo Read Online Free PDF

have to go to court. And that, with all due immodesty, is where I shine! I’ll make the rafters of the courthouse shake. I’ll bring tears to the eyes of the judge.”
    â€œYeah?” Sounding good. “And then?”
    â€œThen we get our heads kicked in.” Nate Scanlon chortles. “No question about it. She wins, you lose. And winner takes all in this game.”
    He explains it to me. The only local grounds for divorce are insanity or adultery.
    â€œInsanity or adultery,” I repeat.
    â€œBased on these,” Nate Scanlon holds up the photos, “I think you definitely qualify on both counts. What’re you, crazy? Shacking up in some fleabag motel—”
    â€œâ€”the Hotel Bel-Air, a quiet bungalow, nobody saw us coming or going—”
    â€œExcept a hired transom-peeper who snapped candid photos of you and this broad in action!”
    â€œIt’s blackmail, Nate! Addie’s trying to blackmail me. Isn’t that a crime?”
    â€œDon’t start, laddie. They’ve got all the cards. Mr. Giesler—” Jerry Giesler, who’s representing Addie, and is Nate Scanlon’s only real competition in town “—will flash these glossies in the judge’s chambers and you are chopped liver.”
    See? It’s worse than I thought. “So I suppose your advice is to—”
    â€œCave in. I’ll tell Giesler we’re cooperating in every way, you are repentant and willing to pay for your transgression, blah-blah-blah—”
    â€œYeah, fine. I’ve got next to nothing in the bank, thanks to Warners’ penny-pinching contract. Even the money I made on the loan-out movie. Warners grabbed it and gave me my usual chicken feed salary, so sure, let her take it all—”
    â€œPlus your royalties.”
    â€œFuck no!” I explode. “She can have the equity in the house, that yappy mutt she loves so much, all the loose change around, but not the royalties!”
    â€œThey’re not asking, laddie, they’re telling. Giesler phoned me. That’s the cornerstone of their demands.”
    Now I’m panicking. Because we’re talking about real money. The only real money I’ve gotten close to in my life. The money that’s going to take care of me in my old age—if I live that long. When TV used to broadcast “live” the shows disappeared into the ether. Then Desi and Lucy decided to put their show on film. Since then most of the shows are done on film. Including mine.
    Back when we made our deal, Nate tried to get me five hundred dollars per show more. Warners dug in their heels, deal breaker. So instead Nate asked for very hefty royalties, in perpetuity, if the shows are ever rerun off-network. Warners figured that’d never happen, so they gave it to us. Couple months ago, Desi negotiated a multi-million dollar deal for local stations to rerun their old shows. Now there’s a new business called Syndication. And I’m in on the ground floor. That’s my jackpot. Those royalty payments.
    â€œWe give them the royalties,” Nate Scanlon says, “and we accept any joint debts and we wrap the whole deal up—lickety-split. Don’t waste a moment!”
    I stare at him. Which side is this bastard on? Hey. He’s grinning like the cat that ate the bird. And it hits me. Something’s happened. “Good news to go with the bad?”
    â€œYou might say that. Providing our footwork is nimble enough.” He tumbles a pair of Chiclets out of a box, offers me some. I shake my head, he starts to chew, I wait him out. It’s worth waiting for.
    â€œI think I’ve found a way for you to escape from Burbank.”
    â€¢ • •
    Okay. Before we go any farther, let me tell you some stuff about Jack Warner and his studio, because it’s important to my tale.
    During the ’30s and ’40s, they made tons of money with prison pictures like