A Lucky Day
Was it possible? Yes, more than possible. I could smell it. I could see it. There, right out on Muriel Breit’s kitchen counter: bacon strips lying on a piece of paper towel. How many bacon strips? Couldn’t tell you, but more than two. And then, pretty quickly, there were none! Delish. I wandered back into Muriel’s office, licking my lips. No one seemed to notice me.
“… even shooting scenes in Death Valley in the summer,” Muriel was saying. “Von Stroheim ended up with a nine hour movie, totally crazy. That was when Louis B. Mayer stepped in. Know much about him?”
“Not really,” Bernie said.
“Ever read a book called An Empire of Their Own: How the Jews Invented Hollywood?”
“Nope,” Bernie said.
“A good book,” said Muriel. She freshened their glasses – they were drinking bourbon, don’t know if I got that in yet. “Okay,” she said: “Louis B. Mayer.”
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