Chapter 666: This Is One Spicy Vixen
It was just another ordinary Tuesday morning.
Jessica and Martin walked out of Jessica's new apartment and got into the Maybach driven by Gordon, heading toward the set of Wanted.
Sitting in the backseat, Jessica glanced out the rear window and whispered nervously, "Martin, I think we've got paparazzi tailing us."
Martin also took a look behind them, completely unfazed. "It's fine. Let them take their shots. I'm a grown-up now, unlike you."
Martin, who was about to turn twenty-one, no longer cared about being caught on camera with pretty girls.
[GodOfReader: Author, YOU FUCKING MENTALLY RETARDED PIECE OF SHIT.]
The Maybach started smoothly, glided forward, picked up speed, and merged into traffic.
Inside the trailing paparazzi vehicle, a young paparazzo excitedly waved the camera in his hands and exclaimed,"Whoa whoa whoa! I got a shot of Martin and Jessica Alba coming out of the apartment together! I might be rich!"
The middle-aged paparazzo driving the car lazily replied,"Rich? Kid, dream on. Martin's playboy reputation in Hollywood isn't news anymore. We've already caught him with Nicole Kidman, Charlize Theron, Scarlett—
"—Johansson, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Alba, and even Britney Spears and Natalie Portman from the 2000s. Yeah, I mean those two together."
"So you think these pics are worth anything? How much could you sell them for? If you really want, I've got a memory card full of this stuff."
"What the fuck!" The younger paparazzo was stunned by the list of names. "Did he actually sleep with all of them?"
"Ha! What do you think?" The middle-aged guy scoffed. "Don't act surprised. This is Martin we're talking about. Word is, he just landed the top spot on the latest Forbes global rich list. Richest man in the world. Sleeping with a few starlets? No big deal."
"Damn, I'm so jealous. But wait, if we've got all these photos, why haven't they been published? Why aren't the papers or TV stations throwing money at us for them?"
"Kid, were you even listening? This guy's the richest man on Earth, and a major shareholder in Warner and Disney. Do you have any idea how much media he controls? Or how much influence he has? There are some people we just don't mess with, got it?"
"Well then, what the hell are we even doing here?"
"Who said we're here for Martin and Jessi—Ah! Look sharp! There's our real target!"
The middle-aged paparazzo lit up as he stepped on the gas. This was the kind of target that could actually bring in a bonus—
Megan Fox!!!
"WTF, isn't that the main girl from Transformers last year?! Holy crap, I still have her poster above my bed from that one scene where she's bent over the car. What's her name again?"
"Megan Fox. You mean you drool over her and don't even know her name? She was everywhere last year!"
"Please, I only care about that body. Who cares what her name is?"
"Idiot. Burn this into your head—her name is Megan Fox. Our bonus this month depends on her."
"Hell yeah! Bonus time! Let's go, man!"
Moron.
The middle-aged paparazzo cursed under his breath, then floored the gas. Their car lurched and sped off in pursuit of Megan Fox's Chevy.
Meanwhile, Megan Fox wasn't having the best day.
Ever since her breakout role as Mikaela in Transformers, movie studios had been typecasting her as the "sexy eye candy." The scripts coming her way were all the same kind of role—either the sultry seductress luring the male lead, or the seductive girl who gets killed by the villain, or the sexy homewrecker who gets her ass kicked by the main guy's wife...
Megan fox cursed internally. Damn it, I'm not some vixen!
If she could, she would've loved to hurl these scripts at the producers' and directors' faces and scream it at them.
But since it was all wishful thinking, she could only fume silently.
Today, she was heading to audition for a role in a film called Jennifer's Body.
Yes, yet another "sexy vixen" character. But this time, there was a twist—she seduced men to eat them.
Literally.
No metaphor, no innuendo. She was going to be a demoness who went on a killing spree.
Compared to the usual "gets killed" or "gets slapped around" scripts, Megan actually preferred being the one doing the killing and slapping.
...
"What do you think she's doing? Going on a date?"
"Who knows? Anyone dating a bombshell like that's gotta be someone big. A billionaire? A producer? A director?"
"Hey, you think we might catch her meeting up with the Transformers director? What's his name again… that skinny guy, Michael Bay?"
"Heh, if we get that shot, we could probably cash in big."
"Photos like that won't go to the press—we could use 'em to blackmail Michael Bay."
"Man, I really hope that dream comes true."
"Whoa, she's turning. That road leads to Warner's casting offices!"
"I've got a feeling something big's going down!"
The young paparazzo couldn't stop yapping as he focused on tailing Megan Fox's Chevy.
The older man didn't even glance at him. He said flatly,"You know what happened to my last partner?"
The young one blinked in confusion. "No, what happened?"
"He died."
"What the fuck! How?!"
"Talked too much. I shot him."
"Haha… ha. you're, uh, joking.. right?"
"Am I?" The middle-aged man gave him a creepy smile.
The young guy glanced at him—and got goosebumps.
Why was this dude's smile so unsettling?
Wait… was he serious?
The older man chuckled silently to himself. Damn, mimicking the Joker's smile is seriously effective. I only copied it ten percent and already scared the kid stiff. If Martin did it himself, who knows how terrifying he'd be? No wonder he scares the crew just by showing up. Must be real.
And yeah—don't be surprised a paparazzo knows how to act. Those guy used to be one of those desperate dreamers in Hollywood, remember?
"Oh, she stopped."
Up ahead, Megan's car parked in front of a small office building. The sexy starlet got out and went inside.
"Where is this?"
The young guy already forgot his fear, his eyes glued to Megan's swaying hips as she walked away.
"That's Moonbirds Casting Agency's office," the older man replied with some disappointment. "Looks like Megan's gunning for another role."