Newspaper Page Text
Page 14
THE DIAMOND THIEF
Flagpole Magazine
February 14, 1990
Part Four - Reviving Venus
"if it hadn't been for Venus, none of this
would have happened," Duncan said and
fished in his pants pockets for his ciga
rettes.
"Your shirt pocket.”
"What?" he asked.
"Your shirt pocket. Your cigarettes are in
your shirt pocket," I told him.
"Oh, yeah,” he said and offered me one
of them.
"What do you mean, none of this would
have happened?” ! asked him and looked
for a flicker of an answer in his expression.
He parted his lips and smirked.
"After venus, I thought I was happy. I
haven’t stopped thinking about that since I
figured out who I was, and now I’m thinking
I was fucking delirious," Duncan said, roll
ing his eyes. “I sound like I don’t care, don’t
I?"
“No," I replied, "You sound like you’re
drunk."
Once upon a time, Duncan merely led a
comfortable life, god forbid, as a semi
successful model. His advertisements in
cluded soap, iced tea, towels and cufflinks.
To his chagrin, as he would later confess,
his career hadn’t exactly afforded him the
recognition he desired.
While he was struggling for assign
ments, another crisis was going down in the
city. Venus Yellow Cake Mix had plum
meted to product hell, collecting dust on the
shelves in grocery stores everywhere.
Seems that the traditional, sexy yellow cake
had lost its appeal. Earth had forgotten its
exclusive edible Venus. On the dangerous
verge of bankruptcy, Venus Company
called together a new ad team. Baffled and
tense, the executives decided to go for an
approach that would throw the consuming
public off guard and enthrall them all the
way back to the supermarket aisles. To lay
it subliminally on the line, the ad team’s
proposal grouped together a handsome
man, a devilish, come-hither grin and the
Venus cake literally at his feet. The ad’s
promise: EAT ME would resound across the
globe.
"People will scream for it!”
"Sounds revolting to me," the older chair
of the board exploded, his fists clenched,
teeth lacerating the cigar he held in his
mouth.
We listened
as Lillian told Dexter the
painting was not quite as
sick as his other paintings-
•
Revolting or not the executives dis
agreed and a lengthy deliberation ensued.
When the ad team walked out of the office,
the secretaries surely removed their
glasses to confront the gleam of success.
The magazine ad called for the model to
sit Indian-style and sport a choice Italian
suit. In front of him would sit the cake frosted
in yellow-with an outrageous slice missing.
Resting in the model’s left hand would be a
dessert dish upon which the slice would lie.
Close to his mouth, the model would draw a
forkful of Venus. A yellow glow would back
drop the photo.
For television commercials, the blue
Venus label would fade onto the black
screen. This image would cuttoa black and
white shot of the model reclining against the
side of an old house, wearing a tee shirt and
eating cake. Near the end, a voice-over
gave the tag line which also ran in the
magazine ad. The voice would utter, "When
you want it, it’s yours.”
Duncan wanted to eat Venus and he did-
after beating out three hundred models.
Before long the ads flooded magazines and
televisions sets from Oklahoma to Australia.
The hooplah mounted. Venus was reborn
and the trade papers proclaimed Duncan a
saviour with undeniable charm.
I was certain Duncan remembered all of
that, how Venus was a tight slap on the
fanny, how success had taken the place of
floundering and how his passion had led
him. Nevertheless, surprises can leave your
stomach aching and your face stinging.
During the flight to Cape Gallilee I told
myself that I would not have any expecta
tions. I would assist Duncan with this mess
and remember that the past cannot always
carry into the future, especially when
someone’s trying to adjust to memory loss.
“Lillian, I’ve been dying for you to see
this. It’s a secret. The painting, that is. I
guess word’s out by now that Duncan's
modeling for me," Dexter’s voice billowed
from the studio.
Duncan and I sat facing each other in the
black velvet chairs when we heard their
arrival. He drew a finger to his lips. We
listened as Lillian told Dexter the painting
was not quite as sick as his other paintings.
She wondered aloud how people would
react. “After all,” she said, “the cake is
eating him."
’
Adger York
am quite sure we all
agree that our landfills are
filling. So why don't we
begin to recycle our
paper, bottles, cans, and
any other waste we can.
I, Jerry Ellis, will be glad
to make pickups.
My number is
548-6186
or 742-8381
Leave Message