“Of course I do.” She grabbed him by the hand. “You can tell me all about it upstairs,” she said, leading him back to the main level of the house. “So,” she began, entering the kitchen, “what did Larry’s fat ass want?”

“Marlene, don’t talk about my friends,” Paul told her.

“I was only kidding, Paul. You know Larry is one of the few who I can tolerate. So what hair-brained scheme has he cooked up now?”

“Nah, baby, this ain’t no scheme. Larry has set something up that may be just what we needed.”

“And what might this be?” she asked suspiciously.

“An art exhibit.” Paul went on to tell Marlene of Larry’s under-the-table deal with the security guards at Silver Cup and how he planned to help Paul host an art show on one of their sets. Marlene listened, emotionless, until Paul was finished. “So what do you think?”

Marlene thought on it for a minute and said, “I think the both of you are crazy.”

“What?” he asked, not believing she couldn’t dig the idea.

“Paul, how do you and Larry plan to hijack a film set in order to host an art exhibit?”

“We’re not hijacking it, Mar. Seth is gonna fix it so we use the set on a night when there’s no one filming at Silver Cup. We’ll be in and out before anyone even knows we were there. What could go wrong?”

“Well, for starters, someone could find out about your little bootleg exhibit and call the police. Trespassing is still a crime in this state.”

“Marlene, why do you always have to punch holes in shit?” he asked heatedly.

“I’m not punching holes in anything, Paul. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get yourself into trouble messing with Larry and his little plan.”

Paul gripped the sides of his head. “Goddammit, Marlene, this isn’t some little plan. My best friend has busted his ass to try and help me out and all you can do is find flaws in it. What the fuck is your problem?”

“Well, since you asked, I’ll tell you. I’m tired, Paul. Tired of waiting for you to wise up and get a regular job. Tired of your sickeningass baby’s mother and tired of wondering if I’m gonna wind up an old maid. Baby, you know I’m totally supportive of you and your dreams of becoming an accomplished painter, but we have to be realistic about this. You can’t keep living day to day waiting for your big break. We can’t live on hope.”

“You know what, I ain’t even trying to hear this shit.” Paul turned to walk away.