Used to Be: The Kid Rapscallion Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

broke college kid who could really use the 300 bucks.”
    “She’s a bitch.”
    “Yeah, well, it takes all kinds, and my guess is you’re her least favorite person in class, so I figured I’d talk to you to piss her off.”
    “Nice.”
    “Yes, well —”
    “I thought maybe you wanted to talk to me because you’re a fucking faggot or something and heard I had a big dick. The internet says you and Raps—”
    Kid sighs and rubs his temples. “No, Lazlo,” he says, deciding right then he was going to have sex with Nancy Cathall as soon as possible, “I am not a ‘fucking faggot.’ Bit of an asshole, yeah, but I am definitely not a ‘fucking faggot or something.’ Now, do you want to do this interview, or not?”
     
    9
     
    THE DAILY REBEL
     
    KID RAPSCALLION: “I AM DEFINITELY NOT A F*CKING FAGGOT”
    Exclusive Interview by Lazlo Becker
     
    10
     
    “No one wants to hear me blame the media,” Kid Rapscallion says from behind a podium in a nondescript conference room. On his left are leaders from UNLV’s LGBT Council, and to his left are from Las Vegas’ Rainbow Coalition. “I understand this, and I fully accept whatever scorn the public wants to place on me. It is important to note, however, and I have made this case to both the LGBT Council, the Rainbow Coalition, the Mayor, and other civic leaders, that I was using the language Mr. Becker used to present the question, and that my response was done in such a manner that anyone who overheard our conversation would understand my distaste for that choice of words. I request, again, that Mr. Becker release the full audio tape of our conversation and not just that one phrase, taken out of context. Further, the insinuation in Mr. Becker’s question that there must be a sexual component to my relationship with Rapscallion is, as I have stated hundreds of times, preposterous. Twenty, thirty years ago, people wanted to believe the best about their heroes, and now they want to believe the worst. It’s a sickness. Rapscallion is a good man. I want to apologize again, to LGBT people everywhere, and to announce that I have agreed to star in a campaign organized by UNLV’s LGBT Council to help spread the message of tolerance and acceptance. Thank you. There will be no questions.”
     
    11
     
    “What’s the matter, stud?” an annoyed Rebecca Rokers asks, wrapping her arms around Jason’s neck and pulling him into a short kiss. “You seem distracted.”
    “Long day,” he says, putting his hands on her either side of her on her desk.
    “I didn’t know there were any poker tournaments going on today,” she says, reaching over to drum her fingers on her laptop.
    “There’s poker tournaments every day,” he sighs, pulling out of her to sit on her chair. He looks up at the half-naked librarian and wonders if, three rounds in, he’s already bored with her. The whole thing with Lazlo has him on edge. He can’t believe he was taken down like some dumb rookie. If he was still with Francis, this would be where the old man would step in, put his arm around Jason’s shoulders, and give him a life lesson. Not to mention produce his copy of the conversation which he’d secretly recorded and they could use for his benefit.
    “Hello?”
    “Yeah, poker stuff. I was in a private game,” he starts to explain as she hops down from her desk and moves to a small safe tucked in the wall behind a painting of the Vegas skyline at night, “and … well, I wasn’t getting the cards I needed and couldn’t make anything happen. What are you doing?”
    Becca opens the safe and turns around with two vials of cocaine. “Let’s spice things up,” she says, and tosses one of the vials to him. “And don’t tell me you don’t do it,” she adds. “You were arrested for possession last year in San Francisco.”
    Jason stares at the vial and asks, “That was sealed. I was a minor.”
    “It is sealed,” she says, hopping back onto her desk and spreading her legs.