G***@webtv.net
2006-12-31 07:05:36 UTC
From Tallulah Bankhead's autobiography:
She writes:
I can't believe I was this taken in but I was. It was the worst mistake
I ever made, and one that cost me my career, and my reputation. All
because I chose to do what was morally right and that was wrong to HER,
that vindictive bitch. You know who I mean Lucille Ball.
She has written much about me to cover her true perverted evil tracks
but now it is time for the truth to come out. Here is the REAL story of
what happened when I worked with Lucy. Yech, even the thought of her is
making me sick to my stomach.
Here's what happened.
I had just arrived in L.A. from New York City. I had just won so many
Tonys that every producer in Hollywood was after me for a film career.
Of course working in the REAL acting arena of the theatre, I was
unfamiliar with most of Hollywood, but on a whole I found them very
genuine and warm.
I was on my way to have dinner at the Brown Derby with my bestest friend
in the whole world, Bette Davis. I arrived and entered the restaurant to
see her reading something and shaking her head disgustingly.
"Hi Bette," I said sitting down. "What's the matter"?
Bette threw the paper down on the table and said "Oh that stupid bitch.
Imagine that."
I picked up the papers and said "Oh look an 'I Love Lucy' script."
"Yeah, can you believe it? That stupid bitch just sent it to me; She
didn't even ask if I wanted to be on the show. She just assumed I
would," said Bette. "I guess being such a big bitch she has to do it
that way, or else no one would go on her show."
"Who are you talking about?" I enquired.
"Who?" Said Bette. There's only one person that is that big a bitch.
Lucille Ball that's who.
I jerked a bit back in disbelief and said "Oh no Bette, you must be
wrong, why everyone loves Lucy."
"Then why was the show cancelled?" Asked Bette.
"No it wasn't," I said pointing at the script.
"That isn't 'I Love Lucy,'" said Bette, that is the spin off 'The
Desi-Lucy Hour."
"Oh" I said, "but surely you must be wrong about Lucy. Why I bet it is
just like it is on TV with Vivian and Bill bickering and Desi using bad
English and ever so many delightful misunderstandings."
"Oh grow up, Tallulah," said Bette "You're so innocent. You have to
watch out for big bitches like her, she'll ruin a pure and wholesome
girl like you."
"Well I will admit," I said, "I don't know much about her but the show
was always funny. At least the part I caught."
"Well," said Bette, "If that bitch thinks I'd ever come within 100 feet
of her she's got another thing coming."
With that Bette signaled for the waiter and said, "I'll have the waiter
trash this."
"Won't Lucy be mad, shouldn't you return it to her?" I asked.
"What!" Exclaimed Bette, "That bitch didn't ask me, she just sent the
script over like I should be grateful to be on her show. She doesn't
even deserve the courtesy of a 'Hell no'."
Well than can I have the script?" I asked. "I could take it back and
maybe get it autographed." I will be down by DesiLu tomorrow for my
debut at my new studio anyway.
"Fine by me," said Bette and she handed me the script. Then Bette and I
had the most delightful dinner.
Too bad I didn't listen to Bette, this turned out to be the worst
decision I ever made in my life.
The next day I stopped over at DesiLu studios on my way to my new
studio. You see I had come from New York City after taking Broadway by
storm and was signed to a new contract to make movies and TV. Everyone
expected me to be a huge box office draw.
I got to DesiLu and the first thing I noticed was a poor homeless man
lying in the gutter outside of the studio. I took out a notebook and
made a note to help this man have a better life on my way out. After all
we New Yorkers are known for our kindness
I stopped by the guard and said, "I'd like to see Lucille Ball." Of
course I didn't expect to actually see her, but was hoping I could leave
the script and get it autographed. After all a big star like Lucy
wouldn't have time for someone as unimportant as me.
The guard said, "You've seen her."
"What?" I asked.
Then he continued, "Liquor deliveries in back."
"I'm not here to deliver liquor," I said.
"Then tobacco delivery is in back too," said the guard
"No I am here," I said.
"Look lady," said the guard interrupting,
"Go in, I am busy watching 'I Married Joan', and it's hard to follow the
plot with you interrupting me."
"You mean Lucy let's you watch that copycat show?" I
asked.
"It ain't a copy," said the guard. "Lucy was the same shit all the time.
Lucy whines and Desi gives in and at least Joan LOVES her husband. All
the Lucy
character did was scheme and use Ricky. Look at all the times the Lucy
character tried to ruin Ricky's career just to get in the show. Joan was
just plain old wacky.
I had to admit he had me there Joan was funny and the Lucy Ricardo only
schemed and lied and in the end Ricky just gave her what she wanted
after she cried. It was the same thing episode after episode.
Every show ending with Lucy crying and Ricky giving her what she wants
because she cries. The more I thought about it the more I realized he
was right. Lucy was always willing to sacrifice Ricky for her own
untalented self. Little did I realize it was the same for Lucy and Desi
in real life.
As I walked thru the gates I was shocked. There were beer bottles,
cigarette butts and used up condoms everywhere. Of course I didn't know
till later what a condom was. Being a good church going woman I never
saw those before.
Well I couldn't imagine what kind of place this was, but being a good
citizen I went back to the guard got a garbage bag and started to pick
up the empty cans. I then took the loaded garbage bag to the trash
receptacle bin.
Well imagine my surprise when I turned around and an old man came up out
of the trash bin. It was Desi Arnaz. I didn't even recognize him. He was
very fat. His hair, what was left of it rather, was gray and he had a
beard that had coffee grounds and wilted lettuce in it.
"I's so hungee," said Desi in his broken English. "Can I's a- burrow fif
daller"
"What?" I asked, "Aren't you Desi Arnaz worth millions?"
"No, said Desi, "that bitch Lucy stealded all me pesos." I later learned
that "Bitch Ball" had set it up so all the profits went to her and Desi
only got paid scale
So I gave him five dollars and asked if he'd sign the script, or did
they want it back. Desi took my five dollars and ran off screaming,
"Boobie bitches, I can get Fir boobie bitches."
Only later did I come to discover that Desi used my five dollars to buy
hookers.
Apparently he got four for five dollars so you can tell they must've
been really cheap floosies to give up their "flower" so cheap.
I figured it was useless but the shock of seeing such things as used
sexual paraphernalia had left me slightly disoriented. So as I tried to
find my way to the front gate, I opened the wrong door, and what did I
see.
It was William Frawley and Vivian Vance and they was on the couch tongue
kissing.
"Why Tallulah," said Bill.
"Oh don't be shy," said Vivian, "we was just having us a little cuddle."
Of course being Broadway veterans I knew Vivian and Bill very well.
"Oh hello Bill and Viv," I said, "Long time no see."
"Is there something wrong Tallulah" asked Vivian?
"Well no," I replied, "it's just I had read that you and Bill didn't get
along well."
"What a bunch of bullshit," said Bill as he open mouthed kiss Vivian
again.
They told me that they were secretly having an affair, and "Bitch Ball"
as they called Lucy had forbidden it. They also told me that "Bitch
Ball" had been responsible for spreading the lies that said they hated
each other.
You see CBS had offered Bill and Viv their own show, which would have
not only been funny but would've killed off "I Love Lucy," because the
oversexed Desi and the drunken power crazed "Bitch Ball" were simply not
funny. So Lucy made up lies about them to kill the show.
"I guess you can't believe the papers," I said.
"No," said Bill, "you just can't believe "Bitch Ball" Why I love Vivian,
Kansas never produced a finer gal. With that Bill deep mouth kissed
Vivian again.
"And," said Vivian returning his tongue kiss while putting her hand down
the front of Bill's pants, "And there is no better actor to learn from
than Bill. And besides he's a cute hunk of stuff."
"So what brings you here today," asked Bill putting her arms around
Vivian
"I was going to return this script, Bette didn't want to do it. I was a
fan so I kind of hope Lucy would sign it."
Both Vivian and Bill laughed.
"That drunken bitch doesn't know how to write," laughed Vivian.
"Hey" said Bill, "since Bette don't want the part, how 'bout you doing'
it."
"Yeah Tallulah," said Vivian, "It'll be nice to work with a professional
Broadway trained actress."
I was so thrilled, despite having some reservations; I thought it could
fast track my career. Vivian said that she and Bill would arrange it.
They told me to come back tomorrow and start learning the lines. Of
course being a Broadway trained theatre actress I had already learned
the lines by heart.
"OK," I said, "I'll see you tomorrow, I can't wait to meet Lucy."
"Haven't you seen her already?" Asked Bill
"How could I?" I replied
"When you walked in wasn't she lying in the gutter passed out?" Said
Vivian.
"That old man was Lucy?" I asked.
"Of course," said Bill and Vivian together.
I was getting a little more apprehensive about doing the show when I
heard this but I figured I'd come by the next day and get out of it.
"Oh yes," said Vivian, "when you get here tomorrow, give Lucy a kick."
Vivian explained after a night of binge drinking Lucy would pass out in
the gutter, in front of the studio and each DesiLu employee would kick
Lucy twice. Every time someone kicked the bitched she turned one quarter
of the way over.
And if every employee kicked the drunken Lucy twice by the time they all
showed up for work the sloshed Lucy would have rolled all the way to her
office where she regained consciousness.
The next day I arrived at DesiLu just before 9am, and sure enough that
homeless man was lying in front. A chill ran up my spine as I walked
over to confirm my greatest fears. Yes, it was indeed not a man but HER.
Yech, it was in fact "Bitch Ball."
There was Lucy, lying in a puddle of her own vomit. She clutched a still
lit cigarette, and frankly smelled to high heaven. Dressed in an old
housedress that had bottles of gin stuffed into it, she was surrounded
by old beer cans and empty bottles of still more gin. She, of course,
didn't have on her red wig, and what was left of her hair was confined
to 3 small tuffs of red hair. She had one tuff on the top and one tuff
on each side of her head. The gray and red hair only accented the
massive wrinkles on her smoke aged faced leading down to the many folds
of her turkey like neck.
And was she fat. Lucy's huge hirsute pregnant like, belly rose at least
2 feet above the rest of her alcohol laden body.
She was in a single word, gross.
I thought to myself "Oh why did I ever sign that contract. I should've
listen to Bette."
Well I still was a Lucy fan so I didn't kick her as instructed. I merely
looked at her with pity and took out my notebook to remind myself that I
should do the Christian thing and help her to become a better person. I
was certain that with some good love from God, Lucy's problem would
vanish
So I walked passed the guard who once again told me "Liquor deliveries
are in back."
And went to sign in. But I was early. So I looked around the studio and
saw a young girl who appeared to be talking to a houseplant.
It was Lucie J. I went over and said hello. Lucie Jr spun around did a
little curtsey and said, "My mommy thinks I's the purr--dee-ist." That
is right she didn't say "prettiest," she said "purdyist." Like she was a
retard.
I said "What is your name little girl." She looked at me all blank faced
and said "My mommy thinks I's the boot-if-ful-la- la-la-la-la-list." My
GOD I though she IS retarded. She didn't say "beautifulest," she said
"Bootiflulalalalalaist."
Then she started talking to the houseplant.
I was shocked when I turned away to see another small child. This was a
boy. It was Desi Jr. He was fat. My God he was like, what 6 years old
and already he had a beer belly. He was stuffing his mouth full of
flour. No kidding as he blankly stared into space he was stuffing his
mouth full of the flour. I walked over and said "Hello, but the portly
fellow was too busy stuffing his face with the flour and occasional
flour beetle.
Imagine my horror when I found out that "Bitch Ball" fed her kids gruel.
Of course intelligent people know gruel is nothing but flour and water
and that cheap mutha fucker "Bitch Ball" was such a cheap ass, she
wouldn't even spring for the water. She said the spit from the kids
would fill in for the water and it was good enough for them. And if the
flour had beetles in it, Lucy thought that was great as it saved her
from buying protein for the kids.
Then I saw another little boy. It was Richard Keith (that was his
professional name his real name was Keith Thibodeaux). He said hello to
me. I asked him why he wasn't in school. He replied, "'Bitch Ball,'
fixed it so we don't have to go to school."
I then learned that Lucie Jr and Desi Jr had never been to school and
the reason that Lucie Jr was talking to the plant is that she had no
friends and this dumbass little girl thought the plant WAS a friend.
Well my opinion against Lucy was rising fast. But being wholesome I
decided to look at it like a challenge. Yes I would help the kids
overcome the harsh life that "Bitch Ball" had left them with.
What a lousy mother "Bitch Ball" was.
Well at 10am I made my way to the conference room, script in hand, of
course I had it all memorized. Being a Broadway star I was accustomed to
learning everything very fast and correctly to boot.
I was introduced to everyone there. There was Desi Sr, Vivian, Bill and
of course all the writers. They all agreed I'd be an excellent
replacement for Bette Davis.
"Whar's da beatch" said Desi Sr in his broken English.
"You did remember to kick her fat ass?" Said Bill to me
"Well no, I didn't," I confessed.
Desi Sr walked over to the door, and opened it. Sure enough therewas the
drunken Ball; laid out just two half turns to the door.
"Let me do it" said Vivian, as she ran over and kicked "Bitch Ball"
twice.
Then the hideous bitch Lucy turned over two quarter turns and was inside
the door.
The drunken sot then opened her eyes and stood up. Well she tried to
anyway. After stumbling over to the table she took out a fifth of gin
and took a swig and moved over and sat next to me.
Good Lord she stank to high heaven.
Apparently shower was a bad word to "Bitch Ball."
Lucy sat next to me and belched. "Damn I need a drink," said Lucy. She
pulled the fifth of gin out of her dirty housedress and gulped it all
down without taking a breath.
Then she yelled. "Where's that Niggra woman?"
Suddenly an African-American woman opened the door and ran over to Lucy.
"I's a-commin' Ms Lews-zee" she said.
I couldn't take Lucy's smell any more. "The smell is awful," I said.
"Bitch Ball" looked at me and said, "Yeah don't them neggars all stank."
What a fuckin' racist Lucy was.
With that she bent over the table and hiked up her dress and imagine how
shocked I was to see Lucy was wearing a diaper. Yes that is right
Lucille Ball was wearing a diaper.
And in front of a room full of people this African-American woman, who I
later learned was named Willie Mae, changed her.
And no one thought it was the least bit odd.
Then when Willie Mae was done changing Lucy, "Bitch Ball" whipped the
filthy diaper back in poor Willie Mae's face saying, "I bet that smells
better than your neggar stink."
And Lucy didn't have a medical problem to have to wear diapers, she was
too lazy to use the toliet. Ans she like to hire African Americans and
call them all Wilie Mae.
I was furious. Imagine my shock at finding out my idol Lucille Ball is a
racist.
Then "Bitch Ball" took another look at me and said "Hey Bette," that
dumbass didn't know I wasn't Bette Davis.
"No Lew-zee" said Desi Sr in his continued broken English. Bette is
sick, dis iz Tallulah Bankhead she iz tacking Bette's place.
"How the fuck are you, Tamiami," said "Bitch Ball" getting my name wrong
as she slapped me on the back.
"Miss Ball," I said, "that isn't my name."
Lucy took yet ANOTHER bottle of gin out of her housedress and gulped the
whole thing down. She then lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in my
face.
"What'd you say Tomahawk," getting my name wrong again as she passed
out on the table.
At the meeting Desi said that they still hadn't found someone to play
the part of my butler. "Well," I said, "I can get one of my best friends
to do it, Marlon Brando."
"Really," said Viv, to which Bill looked a little sad because Viv wanted
Brando as much as him. "Of course," I said.
"He'd be too expensive, Tuskegee," said the rude ass Ball interrupting.
I looked at Lucy and said, "That ain't my name Lucille. I took the
trouble to come here and learn your name and I'd appreciate at the same
courtesy." "Besides," I continued, "He's my friend he'd do it for scale
or probably free."
"Great," go ahead and get him" Said Desi, only he said it in mangled
English. "Shut up, you dumb Mexican," said Lucy. "I'm the only one who
makes decision around here." Then Lucy pulled out a bottle of gin out of
her housecoat shot back about half of it into her throat and let a
cigarette.
"We'll use Richard Deacon," said the half drunken Ball.
"You want to use the guy who plays Lumpy's father on 'Leave It To
Beaver,' instead of Marlon Brando?" Asked Viv.
Lucy then lifted her butt, passed gas and lit another cigarette, drank
the rest of her gin and passed out in her chair.
I later learned that Lucy called Desi a Mexican because she wanted to
hide the fact that he was really Cuban and a Communist like her.
Well this was going to be a disaster. Why oh why didn't I listen to
Bette Davis.
Well I had it. I walked out of the meeting and called my friends at the
DCFS, or the Department of Children and Family Services. I also called
my friend the mayor and the chief of police and reported that hideous
"Bitch Ball" for child abuse and neglect.
The next day I showed up again, and sure enough there was the drunken
Lucy passed out in the gutter, lying in a puddle of her own vomit. What
a pig Lucy was.
I was so happy that same day when I saw the police department come in
and escort Lucy into her office. Even the mayor was there. Now I didn't
care if Lucy stank or was a racist, but I would be damned if I'd stand
by and let her abuse children.
Well I was certainly shocked when out walked the mayor, the chief of
police and three welfare workers all carrying white sacks with dollars
sign on them. That is right, that foul child abuser Lucille Ball bought
off the Department of Children and Family Services and the others too.
This was just too much for me. So I went ahead and took some of my
millions of dollars and set up a fund to teach Lucy's kids and Keith.
After all I felt it was my duty as a human to help even as the bitch
Lucy sent all her millions to her Communist friends in the Viet Cong.
Later that day at the second script reading Lucy was enraged. She
shouted "If I ever find out who turned me in for neglecting my children
I'll ruin them." Then she looked at me and said you don't know anything
about this do you, "Tennessee?"
"That ain't my name," I said looking at the still hung over Lucy. Then I
said, "Yes I did." I told the obese Lucy right to her fat wrinkled up
face.
Lucy then stood and the chair and flailed her arms screaming "Blah,
blah, blah," as she chocked back the tobacco, she had been chewing. And
she really went "Blah, blah, blah," I never did figure out what that
meant.
Then she swore death upon me for trying to help her children after her
shameful years of neglect. That's right, Lucille Ball wished death upon
me, Tallulah Bankhead, America's favorite fun loving thespian.
Of course I certainly wasn't afraid of that fat mongrel bitch. And I
told her so. "I'm not afraid of you, you fat bitch."
Suddenly a horrid looking old women came running in screaming "Lucy not
a bitch," she just thinks it's perfectly acceptable to neglect her own
children and abuse the tiny young actor who plays little Ricky so she
can give the money it would cost to educate them to the Viet Cong.
Later I learned this horrid looking old crone was Irma Kusely. She was a
former 'ho and was so awful at it that even Desi Arnaz refused to use
her. I mean how hard is it to be a hooker, lie down and spread your
legs. But this woman Irma conned Lucy into paying her to do her wigs.
Like that is a real job. What a sneaky skank Irma was.
Well I just brushed "Bitch Ball" aside and went to my dressing room.
Imagine my surprise after I had taken my shower, located in my dressing
room, that I noticed that my underwear was missing. I didn't think
anything of it of the time, but of course I had nothing to put on
underneath my pants.
The next day was the final day before rehearsal and yet once again I
arrived to see "Bitch Ball" passed out in her vomit, surrounded by beer
and gin bottles. I made sure I kicked her fat ass hard as I walked pass
this drunkard
Now some are you are probably thinking, "Lucy didn't look fat," that is
because that vain egotistical self-absorbed bitch made everyone else
wear padded clothing and the furniture was oversized so that it LOOKED
like Lucy was a normal human being.
Well I stayed in my dressing room trailer most of the day trying to
avoid Lucy, not out of fear, but out of not being able to stand her
stank. Between the dried out vomit and the fact she never bathed or
changed her dress, she was one nasty muther stanking fucker.
So again I took my shower in my dressing room and when I was done I was
shocked, my underwear was gone again.
And this time I had brought TWO pairs. I thought maybe between that
aggravating "Bitch Ball" or her stank something was clouding my head.
But this was too weird BOTH pairs were gone.
So on my way to the meeting I saw her. She was still dressed in some
bunched up shorts, obviously bunched up from her diaper underneath them
and a ripped up torn bra from a thrift store that she safety pinned
together.
Well I just brushed the bitched aside with a palm of my hand when "Bitch
Ball" said to me. "I am not thru with you yet, millions of my Viet Cong
brothers will be killed because I had to pay off the authorities because
you THOUGHT I was a bad mother."
I told her she WAS a bad mother and a foul smelling human being. Then
Lucy told me she wouldn't rest until she saw me lying face up in a
grave. I mean it was bad enough she wanted me dead but now this sick
mutha fucker wanted witness it.
Then she said, "Oh I hear you misplaced your panties they are in here,"
she said to me as she pointed to a room.
Something about that didn't seem right. How would Lucy know that I
wondered? I went in the room and was nearly blown away, there was Hedda
Hopper and Louella Parsons and they was naked and having lez sex. And
right between these disgusting old crones was my panties and the old age
ridden, fat gossip columnists were using them as a sex toy. And get this
"Bitch Ball" was filming it.
"You disgusting bitches," I yelled at the two hags then "Bitch Ball"
told me that if I agreed to join in the fun with those ugly bitches
she'd not ruin my career.
"Look you stupid bitch,' I said to the pervert Lucy, "I'd rather go to
heaven than be cast to hell for being a perverted homosexual." Suddenly
that dumbass Irma, burst thru the door and yelled, "Lucy's not a bitch,
she just wants to make perverted lesbian porn so she can sell it to
other perverts and make enough money to prop up the North Koreans and
the Viet Cong." Then she ran off.
Well I told Lucy what she could do with my panties and that only made
Hedda Hopper and Louella Parson hornier with each other. I retched as I
ran out of the room. As Lucy was commanding her cameraman to catch this
sexual affront to God on film. What a sick fuck Lucy was.
That afternoon we had our last meeting before the show taping. I was so
glad the next evening we'd film the show and I'd be done with this
horrible experience.
I got to the meeting and sat next to Viv and Bill who were secretly
holding hand under the table. Viv told me how "Bitch Ball" used money
from her perverted porn to prop up her show. She told me that she also
used the profits to prop up Communist causes all over the world. You see
Lucy bought all the advertising for "I Love Lucy," and bribed Nielsen so
her show would look like it was more popular than it was.
It was an awful meeting, meaning that AWFUL Lucy showed her pig like
face.
We were all sitting around listening to Bill tell an amusing story when
all of a sudden Lucy got up and passed gas. She was such a pig.
Then Viv trying to change the subjected said "What a nice sweater you
have." I said "Would you like it?" Viv replied with a yes and stood up
and took it off and gave it to her. Then that fat ass Lucy got all mad
because she didn't get anything. She walked over to me and said, "I'm
the star you should give me presents."
"Get fucked you bitch," I said to Lucy, as the door to the conference
room opened up and in rushed Irma screaming, "Lucy's not a bitch, she
just thinks if there is any free things she should get them all despite
already having millions of dollars and only paying her staff scale.
Then Irma ran out of the room, suddenly in Lucy rushed over to me and
pulled down my pants and Hedda Hopper and Louella Parson ran in the door
and snapped photos of me. Of course because those fat lesbians were
using my stolen underwear in their porno, I wasn't wearing any
underwear. Lucy cackled and said, "There you go ladies she's the pervert
who doesn't wear underwear."
Of course Lucy would later change the story to make me look like slut
when in reality it was "Bitch Ball" who was the pervert.
Then the still mostly drunk Lucy sat down and passed more gas.
Then Richard Deacon got up shook "Bitch Ball" and said "Lucy I want my
payment." "So," said the inebriated Ball awakening, slightly, from her
drunken stupor, "Go get him."
With that the overweight bald headed Deacon went over to the place where
Desi Jr was still eating out of a sack of flour, and picked up the young
boy. Then Deacon said, "I hope you're ready."
"What's going on?" I yelled
"Mind you're own damn business Tallahassee," said "Bitch Ball," again
getting my name wrong, as she stepped between me and the door which
Deacon had just left out of.
"That ain't my name you stupid bitch," I said. "Suddenly the door burst
open and in ran Irma saying "Lucy's not bitch, she just wants to stop
you from knowing that Richard Deacon is a flaming homo and Lucy pays him
by allowing him to rape her sons ass."
Then Irma ran away.
Well naturally with the obese Lucy standing between the door and me what
could I do? I said "Lucy there's more gin on the table." Lucy than ran
away from the door and went to the table only to see there was no gin or
any other alcoholic drinks. "You lying whore," said the filthy mouthed
Lucy turning towards me.
But I was out the door and of course I stopped the homosexual Richard
Deacon from trying to convert poor innocent Desi Jr into a homo by
raping his child butt.
Then came the day we were to shoot the show, I was so nervous about the
state "Bitch Ball" would be in and I wanted to get it over with. And
sure enough she showed up drunk. What a lush Lucy was.
I was standing back stage when Vivian came up to me and handed me a
script. "What's this?" I asked. Vivian explained that this is what they
always do on the Lucy show.
It seems since Lucy was drunk 99% of the time all they do is read old
"My Favorite Husband" scripts to the audience. Since these scripts were
funny no matter WHO read them, they would simply record the audience's
laughter and then insert the laughs. That way they could claim, it was
done before a live audience.
Vivian explained that Lucy being drunk all the time is why the show went
to an hour format. That was because it took a MONTH to film the show
with "Bitch Ball" being drunk all the time.
Then I heard the audience, I peaked out of the curtain and saw them all
there. They were all standing up and cheering " Tallulah, Tallulah," and
"We want Tallulah." Now I was kind of mad, after all "Bitch Ball" was
such a conceited alchey that she thought no one would know who I was and
here were all my fans, thousands of them, wanting to see me perform and
I had to give them a second rate performance of an old radio script.
Then Desi Arnaz came out to "warm up" the audience, you know tell them
what to expect, but he was awful. He kept throwing kisses to his clappy
looking lady friends in the third row. I guess his hookers wouldn't rate
the good seats.
He was horrible, no one could understand him, even I couldn't and I
speak fluent Spanish. He was just a big fat blob of nothing, standing
there trying to be funny.
He was even worse as my fans started demanding to see me. They now were
on their seats saying, "We want
Tallulah, we want Tallulah,"
"She soon here am, after you see Lew-yee," said Desi in his broken
English.
"Not soon, now!!!" Said a little old lady, "I didn't come here to see
that drunk bitch."
"Lewy no batch," said the fat Desi, not
really making any sense.
"Lucy's IS a bitch," reaffirmed the little old lady, "I certainly ought
to know what my daughter is."
That's right, the little old lady was DeeDee Lucy's own mother.
Suddenly "Bitch Ball" appeared out of nowhere, dressed only in her bra
and bunched up panties, still stanking of course. "Bitch Ball" ran down
the stage to DeeDee.
"Shut the fuck up, you old piece of shit," screamed Lucy.
With her hippopotamus sized legs chaffing all the way, Lucy made her way
down to her sweet little momma and
clotheslined her mother across her throat.
DeeDee fell down, as the enraged Lucy shrieked at her.
"Call me names will you," shouted Lucy as she bounced her enormous fat
ass over poor DeeDee's face
"I will not be silent," said DeeDee, "you ARE a bitch,"
As Lucy started to put the full weight of her 250 pounds into punching
her sweet 85-year-old, 85-pound mother, I went into action. I couldn't
let Lucy beat up a sweet little old lady.
Then Vivian grabbed my shoulder and said, "If you hit her, you'll never
work in this town again."
"I don't care," I said, "Right is right and I can't stand by and watch a
little old lady beaten up."
I rushed down there and pulled the balding Lucy up by her red hair, and
smacked her one right across her mouth. A big wad of tobacco fell out of
her mouth.
I then punched her in her big fat hirsute belly, and the fat,
foul-mouthed bitch, fell backward. She tried to make her way up the
stage as I started after her.
My fans were now on their seats scream "Go Tallulah Go."
"You will not abuse our senior citizens, not while I'm alive," I yelled.
"Bitch Ball" clawed her way up to the stage, obviously afraid of me. I
followed her up the stairs, grabbed her by, what was left, of her hair
on her balding head, and said, "Now apologize to your momma."
"Blah, blah, blah," screamed the hideous Ball, flailing her arms over
her head like the drunken wild woman she was.
With that I reeled back and smacked the tobacco-laden cheeks of the
bitch's fat face.
Lucy's tobacco fell out of her mouth; she fell on it, tumbled backwards
and hit the ground. Her enormous rhinoceros ass hit the stage floor and
put a huge crack in the floor. Her fat ass fell thru the stage floor and
she was stuck there.
"I've had it I said." I was sick of this fat bitch and decided I
wouldn't let my fans down.
"Why whatever do you mean Tuscaloosa?" Asked "Bitch Ball," who was now
trying to suck up to me to avoid being hit again.
"That ain't my name BITCH, " I told her and I kicked her teeth. Of
course "Bitch Ball" was wearing false teeth and they broke. Why are you
so upset you fat ass BITCH, " I asked her? You can still drink your
supper.
Then Irma ran up on stage and said "Lucy's not a bitch, she just thinks
it is perfectly acceptable to beat up her disabled mother. " Then Irma
wisely ran off before I could get my hands on her.
I then walked over to the stagehand and got that week's script. I walked
back over to "Bitch Ball" who was still trying to get out of the hole
her fat ass made, and I said, "Look you fat cow, my fans came here to
see a show and by God you aren't gonna ruin it for them. So you better
learn this script. You got a half hour." And with that I threw the
script at "Bitch Ball"
Vivian rushed over and said "But Tallulah, she drunk, she can't learn it
in a half an hour."
I looked at Vivian then glared at "Bitch Ball," and said "Well she
better learn it or I guess I'll have to come out here and SLAP the drunk
out of her.
Of course the fat bitch did the show perfectly in one take. She knew I'd
slap her silly if her dumbass did otherwise.
And of course, as Vivian said, the fat bitch also saw to it that MY
reputation was ruined.
That show guest starring me, was the highest rated of the hour long Lucy
series and it was the most critically acclaimed so CBS offered me my own
show but true to Viv's words "Bitch Ball" got CBS to rescind their
offer.
Then he got her two lesbian friends, Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper to
lie and say that I was the drunk and caused problems, which the
perverted lesbians wrote in their gossip columns even though it was her
that caused the problems.
And to this day she tells a phony made up story that I was the problem
and not her.
She writes:
I can't believe I was this taken in but I was. It was the worst mistake
I ever made, and one that cost me my career, and my reputation. All
because I chose to do what was morally right and that was wrong to HER,
that vindictive bitch. You know who I mean Lucille Ball.
She has written much about me to cover her true perverted evil tracks
but now it is time for the truth to come out. Here is the REAL story of
what happened when I worked with Lucy. Yech, even the thought of her is
making me sick to my stomach.
Here's what happened.
I had just arrived in L.A. from New York City. I had just won so many
Tonys that every producer in Hollywood was after me for a film career.
Of course working in the REAL acting arena of the theatre, I was
unfamiliar with most of Hollywood, but on a whole I found them very
genuine and warm.
I was on my way to have dinner at the Brown Derby with my bestest friend
in the whole world, Bette Davis. I arrived and entered the restaurant to
see her reading something and shaking her head disgustingly.
"Hi Bette," I said sitting down. "What's the matter"?
Bette threw the paper down on the table and said "Oh that stupid bitch.
Imagine that."
I picked up the papers and said "Oh look an 'I Love Lucy' script."
"Yeah, can you believe it? That stupid bitch just sent it to me; She
didn't even ask if I wanted to be on the show. She just assumed I
would," said Bette. "I guess being such a big bitch she has to do it
that way, or else no one would go on her show."
"Who are you talking about?" I enquired.
"Who?" Said Bette. There's only one person that is that big a bitch.
Lucille Ball that's who.
I jerked a bit back in disbelief and said "Oh no Bette, you must be
wrong, why everyone loves Lucy."
"Then why was the show cancelled?" Asked Bette.
"No it wasn't," I said pointing at the script.
"That isn't 'I Love Lucy,'" said Bette, that is the spin off 'The
Desi-Lucy Hour."
"Oh" I said, "but surely you must be wrong about Lucy. Why I bet it is
just like it is on TV with Vivian and Bill bickering and Desi using bad
English and ever so many delightful misunderstandings."
"Oh grow up, Tallulah," said Bette "You're so innocent. You have to
watch out for big bitches like her, she'll ruin a pure and wholesome
girl like you."
"Well I will admit," I said, "I don't know much about her but the show
was always funny. At least the part I caught."
"Well," said Bette, "If that bitch thinks I'd ever come within 100 feet
of her she's got another thing coming."
With that Bette signaled for the waiter and said, "I'll have the waiter
trash this."
"Won't Lucy be mad, shouldn't you return it to her?" I asked.
"What!" Exclaimed Bette, "That bitch didn't ask me, she just sent the
script over like I should be grateful to be on her show. She doesn't
even deserve the courtesy of a 'Hell no'."
Well than can I have the script?" I asked. "I could take it back and
maybe get it autographed." I will be down by DesiLu tomorrow for my
debut at my new studio anyway.
"Fine by me," said Bette and she handed me the script. Then Bette and I
had the most delightful dinner.
Too bad I didn't listen to Bette, this turned out to be the worst
decision I ever made in my life.
The next day I stopped over at DesiLu studios on my way to my new
studio. You see I had come from New York City after taking Broadway by
storm and was signed to a new contract to make movies and TV. Everyone
expected me to be a huge box office draw.
I got to DesiLu and the first thing I noticed was a poor homeless man
lying in the gutter outside of the studio. I took out a notebook and
made a note to help this man have a better life on my way out. After all
we New Yorkers are known for our kindness
I stopped by the guard and said, "I'd like to see Lucille Ball." Of
course I didn't expect to actually see her, but was hoping I could leave
the script and get it autographed. After all a big star like Lucy
wouldn't have time for someone as unimportant as me.
The guard said, "You've seen her."
"What?" I asked.
Then he continued, "Liquor deliveries in back."
"I'm not here to deliver liquor," I said.
"Then tobacco delivery is in back too," said the guard
"No I am here," I said.
"Look lady," said the guard interrupting,
"Go in, I am busy watching 'I Married Joan', and it's hard to follow the
plot with you interrupting me."
"You mean Lucy let's you watch that copycat show?" I
asked.
"It ain't a copy," said the guard. "Lucy was the same shit all the time.
Lucy whines and Desi gives in and at least Joan LOVES her husband. All
the Lucy
character did was scheme and use Ricky. Look at all the times the Lucy
character tried to ruin Ricky's career just to get in the show. Joan was
just plain old wacky.
I had to admit he had me there Joan was funny and the Lucy Ricardo only
schemed and lied and in the end Ricky just gave her what she wanted
after she cried. It was the same thing episode after episode.
Every show ending with Lucy crying and Ricky giving her what she wants
because she cries. The more I thought about it the more I realized he
was right. Lucy was always willing to sacrifice Ricky for her own
untalented self. Little did I realize it was the same for Lucy and Desi
in real life.
As I walked thru the gates I was shocked. There were beer bottles,
cigarette butts and used up condoms everywhere. Of course I didn't know
till later what a condom was. Being a good church going woman I never
saw those before.
Well I couldn't imagine what kind of place this was, but being a good
citizen I went back to the guard got a garbage bag and started to pick
up the empty cans. I then took the loaded garbage bag to the trash
receptacle bin.
Well imagine my surprise when I turned around and an old man came up out
of the trash bin. It was Desi Arnaz. I didn't even recognize him. He was
very fat. His hair, what was left of it rather, was gray and he had a
beard that had coffee grounds and wilted lettuce in it.
"I's so hungee," said Desi in his broken English. "Can I's a- burrow fif
daller"
"What?" I asked, "Aren't you Desi Arnaz worth millions?"
"No, said Desi, "that bitch Lucy stealded all me pesos." I later learned
that "Bitch Ball" had set it up so all the profits went to her and Desi
only got paid scale
So I gave him five dollars and asked if he'd sign the script, or did
they want it back. Desi took my five dollars and ran off screaming,
"Boobie bitches, I can get Fir boobie bitches."
Only later did I come to discover that Desi used my five dollars to buy
hookers.
Apparently he got four for five dollars so you can tell they must've
been really cheap floosies to give up their "flower" so cheap.
I figured it was useless but the shock of seeing such things as used
sexual paraphernalia had left me slightly disoriented. So as I tried to
find my way to the front gate, I opened the wrong door, and what did I
see.
It was William Frawley and Vivian Vance and they was on the couch tongue
kissing.
"Why Tallulah," said Bill.
"Oh don't be shy," said Vivian, "we was just having us a little cuddle."
Of course being Broadway veterans I knew Vivian and Bill very well.
"Oh hello Bill and Viv," I said, "Long time no see."
"Is there something wrong Tallulah" asked Vivian?
"Well no," I replied, "it's just I had read that you and Bill didn't get
along well."
"What a bunch of bullshit," said Bill as he open mouthed kiss Vivian
again.
They told me that they were secretly having an affair, and "Bitch Ball"
as they called Lucy had forbidden it. They also told me that "Bitch
Ball" had been responsible for spreading the lies that said they hated
each other.
You see CBS had offered Bill and Viv their own show, which would have
not only been funny but would've killed off "I Love Lucy," because the
oversexed Desi and the drunken power crazed "Bitch Ball" were simply not
funny. So Lucy made up lies about them to kill the show.
"I guess you can't believe the papers," I said.
"No," said Bill, "you just can't believe "Bitch Ball" Why I love Vivian,
Kansas never produced a finer gal. With that Bill deep mouth kissed
Vivian again.
"And," said Vivian returning his tongue kiss while putting her hand down
the front of Bill's pants, "And there is no better actor to learn from
than Bill. And besides he's a cute hunk of stuff."
"So what brings you here today," asked Bill putting her arms around
Vivian
"I was going to return this script, Bette didn't want to do it. I was a
fan so I kind of hope Lucy would sign it."
Both Vivian and Bill laughed.
"That drunken bitch doesn't know how to write," laughed Vivian.
"Hey" said Bill, "since Bette don't want the part, how 'bout you doing'
it."
"Yeah Tallulah," said Vivian, "It'll be nice to work with a professional
Broadway trained actress."
I was so thrilled, despite having some reservations; I thought it could
fast track my career. Vivian said that she and Bill would arrange it.
They told me to come back tomorrow and start learning the lines. Of
course being a Broadway trained theatre actress I had already learned
the lines by heart.
"OK," I said, "I'll see you tomorrow, I can't wait to meet Lucy."
"Haven't you seen her already?" Asked Bill
"How could I?" I replied
"When you walked in wasn't she lying in the gutter passed out?" Said
Vivian.
"That old man was Lucy?" I asked.
"Of course," said Bill and Vivian together.
I was getting a little more apprehensive about doing the show when I
heard this but I figured I'd come by the next day and get out of it.
"Oh yes," said Vivian, "when you get here tomorrow, give Lucy a kick."
Vivian explained after a night of binge drinking Lucy would pass out in
the gutter, in front of the studio and each DesiLu employee would kick
Lucy twice. Every time someone kicked the bitched she turned one quarter
of the way over.
And if every employee kicked the drunken Lucy twice by the time they all
showed up for work the sloshed Lucy would have rolled all the way to her
office where she regained consciousness.
The next day I arrived at DesiLu just before 9am, and sure enough that
homeless man was lying in front. A chill ran up my spine as I walked
over to confirm my greatest fears. Yes, it was indeed not a man but HER.
Yech, it was in fact "Bitch Ball."
There was Lucy, lying in a puddle of her own vomit. She clutched a still
lit cigarette, and frankly smelled to high heaven. Dressed in an old
housedress that had bottles of gin stuffed into it, she was surrounded
by old beer cans and empty bottles of still more gin. She, of course,
didn't have on her red wig, and what was left of her hair was confined
to 3 small tuffs of red hair. She had one tuff on the top and one tuff
on each side of her head. The gray and red hair only accented the
massive wrinkles on her smoke aged faced leading down to the many folds
of her turkey like neck.
And was she fat. Lucy's huge hirsute pregnant like, belly rose at least
2 feet above the rest of her alcohol laden body.
She was in a single word, gross.
I thought to myself "Oh why did I ever sign that contract. I should've
listen to Bette."
Well I still was a Lucy fan so I didn't kick her as instructed. I merely
looked at her with pity and took out my notebook to remind myself that I
should do the Christian thing and help her to become a better person. I
was certain that with some good love from God, Lucy's problem would
vanish
So I walked passed the guard who once again told me "Liquor deliveries
are in back."
And went to sign in. But I was early. So I looked around the studio and
saw a young girl who appeared to be talking to a houseplant.
It was Lucie J. I went over and said hello. Lucie Jr spun around did a
little curtsey and said, "My mommy thinks I's the purr--dee-ist." That
is right she didn't say "prettiest," she said "purdyist." Like she was a
retard.
I said "What is your name little girl." She looked at me all blank faced
and said "My mommy thinks I's the boot-if-ful-la- la-la-la-la-list." My
GOD I though she IS retarded. She didn't say "beautifulest," she said
"Bootiflulalalalalaist."
Then she started talking to the houseplant.
I was shocked when I turned away to see another small child. This was a
boy. It was Desi Jr. He was fat. My God he was like, what 6 years old
and already he had a beer belly. He was stuffing his mouth full of
flour. No kidding as he blankly stared into space he was stuffing his
mouth full of the flour. I walked over and said "Hello, but the portly
fellow was too busy stuffing his face with the flour and occasional
flour beetle.
Imagine my horror when I found out that "Bitch Ball" fed her kids gruel.
Of course intelligent people know gruel is nothing but flour and water
and that cheap mutha fucker "Bitch Ball" was such a cheap ass, she
wouldn't even spring for the water. She said the spit from the kids
would fill in for the water and it was good enough for them. And if the
flour had beetles in it, Lucy thought that was great as it saved her
from buying protein for the kids.
Then I saw another little boy. It was Richard Keith (that was his
professional name his real name was Keith Thibodeaux). He said hello to
me. I asked him why he wasn't in school. He replied, "'Bitch Ball,'
fixed it so we don't have to go to school."
I then learned that Lucie Jr and Desi Jr had never been to school and
the reason that Lucie Jr was talking to the plant is that she had no
friends and this dumbass little girl thought the plant WAS a friend.
Well my opinion against Lucy was rising fast. But being wholesome I
decided to look at it like a challenge. Yes I would help the kids
overcome the harsh life that "Bitch Ball" had left them with.
What a lousy mother "Bitch Ball" was.
Well at 10am I made my way to the conference room, script in hand, of
course I had it all memorized. Being a Broadway star I was accustomed to
learning everything very fast and correctly to boot.
I was introduced to everyone there. There was Desi Sr, Vivian, Bill and
of course all the writers. They all agreed I'd be an excellent
replacement for Bette Davis.
"Whar's da beatch" said Desi Sr in his broken English.
"You did remember to kick her fat ass?" Said Bill to me
"Well no, I didn't," I confessed.
Desi Sr walked over to the door, and opened it. Sure enough therewas the
drunken Ball; laid out just two half turns to the door.
"Let me do it" said Vivian, as she ran over and kicked "Bitch Ball"
twice.
Then the hideous bitch Lucy turned over two quarter turns and was inside
the door.
The drunken sot then opened her eyes and stood up. Well she tried to
anyway. After stumbling over to the table she took out a fifth of gin
and took a swig and moved over and sat next to me.
Good Lord she stank to high heaven.
Apparently shower was a bad word to "Bitch Ball."
Lucy sat next to me and belched. "Damn I need a drink," said Lucy. She
pulled the fifth of gin out of her dirty housedress and gulped it all
down without taking a breath.
Then she yelled. "Where's that Niggra woman?"
Suddenly an African-American woman opened the door and ran over to Lucy.
"I's a-commin' Ms Lews-zee" she said.
I couldn't take Lucy's smell any more. "The smell is awful," I said.
"Bitch Ball" looked at me and said, "Yeah don't them neggars all stank."
What a fuckin' racist Lucy was.
With that she bent over the table and hiked up her dress and imagine how
shocked I was to see Lucy was wearing a diaper. Yes that is right
Lucille Ball was wearing a diaper.
And in front of a room full of people this African-American woman, who I
later learned was named Willie Mae, changed her.
And no one thought it was the least bit odd.
Then when Willie Mae was done changing Lucy, "Bitch Ball" whipped the
filthy diaper back in poor Willie Mae's face saying, "I bet that smells
better than your neggar stink."
And Lucy didn't have a medical problem to have to wear diapers, she was
too lazy to use the toliet. Ans she like to hire African Americans and
call them all Wilie Mae.
I was furious. Imagine my shock at finding out my idol Lucille Ball is a
racist.
Then "Bitch Ball" took another look at me and said "Hey Bette," that
dumbass didn't know I wasn't Bette Davis.
"No Lew-zee" said Desi Sr in his continued broken English. Bette is
sick, dis iz Tallulah Bankhead she iz tacking Bette's place.
"How the fuck are you, Tamiami," said "Bitch Ball" getting my name wrong
as she slapped me on the back.
"Miss Ball," I said, "that isn't my name."
Lucy took yet ANOTHER bottle of gin out of her housedress and gulped the
whole thing down. She then lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in my
face.
"What'd you say Tomahawk," getting my name wrong again as she passed
out on the table.
At the meeting Desi said that they still hadn't found someone to play
the part of my butler. "Well," I said, "I can get one of my best friends
to do it, Marlon Brando."
"Really," said Viv, to which Bill looked a little sad because Viv wanted
Brando as much as him. "Of course," I said.
"He'd be too expensive, Tuskegee," said the rude ass Ball interrupting.
I looked at Lucy and said, "That ain't my name Lucille. I took the
trouble to come here and learn your name and I'd appreciate at the same
courtesy." "Besides," I continued, "He's my friend he'd do it for scale
or probably free."
"Great," go ahead and get him" Said Desi, only he said it in mangled
English. "Shut up, you dumb Mexican," said Lucy. "I'm the only one who
makes decision around here." Then Lucy pulled out a bottle of gin out of
her housecoat shot back about half of it into her throat and let a
cigarette.
"We'll use Richard Deacon," said the half drunken Ball.
"You want to use the guy who plays Lumpy's father on 'Leave It To
Beaver,' instead of Marlon Brando?" Asked Viv.
Lucy then lifted her butt, passed gas and lit another cigarette, drank
the rest of her gin and passed out in her chair.
I later learned that Lucy called Desi a Mexican because she wanted to
hide the fact that he was really Cuban and a Communist like her.
Well this was going to be a disaster. Why oh why didn't I listen to
Bette Davis.
Well I had it. I walked out of the meeting and called my friends at the
DCFS, or the Department of Children and Family Services. I also called
my friend the mayor and the chief of police and reported that hideous
"Bitch Ball" for child abuse and neglect.
The next day I showed up again, and sure enough there was the drunken
Lucy passed out in the gutter, lying in a puddle of her own vomit. What
a pig Lucy was.
I was so happy that same day when I saw the police department come in
and escort Lucy into her office. Even the mayor was there. Now I didn't
care if Lucy stank or was a racist, but I would be damned if I'd stand
by and let her abuse children.
Well I was certainly shocked when out walked the mayor, the chief of
police and three welfare workers all carrying white sacks with dollars
sign on them. That is right, that foul child abuser Lucille Ball bought
off the Department of Children and Family Services and the others too.
This was just too much for me. So I went ahead and took some of my
millions of dollars and set up a fund to teach Lucy's kids and Keith.
After all I felt it was my duty as a human to help even as the bitch
Lucy sent all her millions to her Communist friends in the Viet Cong.
Later that day at the second script reading Lucy was enraged. She
shouted "If I ever find out who turned me in for neglecting my children
I'll ruin them." Then she looked at me and said you don't know anything
about this do you, "Tennessee?"
"That ain't my name," I said looking at the still hung over Lucy. Then I
said, "Yes I did." I told the obese Lucy right to her fat wrinkled up
face.
Lucy then stood and the chair and flailed her arms screaming "Blah,
blah, blah," as she chocked back the tobacco, she had been chewing. And
she really went "Blah, blah, blah," I never did figure out what that
meant.
Then she swore death upon me for trying to help her children after her
shameful years of neglect. That's right, Lucille Ball wished death upon
me, Tallulah Bankhead, America's favorite fun loving thespian.
Of course I certainly wasn't afraid of that fat mongrel bitch. And I
told her so. "I'm not afraid of you, you fat bitch."
Suddenly a horrid looking old women came running in screaming "Lucy not
a bitch," she just thinks it's perfectly acceptable to neglect her own
children and abuse the tiny young actor who plays little Ricky so she
can give the money it would cost to educate them to the Viet Cong.
Later I learned this horrid looking old crone was Irma Kusely. She was a
former 'ho and was so awful at it that even Desi Arnaz refused to use
her. I mean how hard is it to be a hooker, lie down and spread your
legs. But this woman Irma conned Lucy into paying her to do her wigs.
Like that is a real job. What a sneaky skank Irma was.
Well I just brushed "Bitch Ball" aside and went to my dressing room.
Imagine my surprise after I had taken my shower, located in my dressing
room, that I noticed that my underwear was missing. I didn't think
anything of it of the time, but of course I had nothing to put on
underneath my pants.
The next day was the final day before rehearsal and yet once again I
arrived to see "Bitch Ball" passed out in her vomit, surrounded by beer
and gin bottles. I made sure I kicked her fat ass hard as I walked pass
this drunkard
Now some are you are probably thinking, "Lucy didn't look fat," that is
because that vain egotistical self-absorbed bitch made everyone else
wear padded clothing and the furniture was oversized so that it LOOKED
like Lucy was a normal human being.
Well I stayed in my dressing room trailer most of the day trying to
avoid Lucy, not out of fear, but out of not being able to stand her
stank. Between the dried out vomit and the fact she never bathed or
changed her dress, she was one nasty muther stanking fucker.
So again I took my shower in my dressing room and when I was done I was
shocked, my underwear was gone again.
And this time I had brought TWO pairs. I thought maybe between that
aggravating "Bitch Ball" or her stank something was clouding my head.
But this was too weird BOTH pairs were gone.
So on my way to the meeting I saw her. She was still dressed in some
bunched up shorts, obviously bunched up from her diaper underneath them
and a ripped up torn bra from a thrift store that she safety pinned
together.
Well I just brushed the bitched aside with a palm of my hand when "Bitch
Ball" said to me. "I am not thru with you yet, millions of my Viet Cong
brothers will be killed because I had to pay off the authorities because
you THOUGHT I was a bad mother."
I told her she WAS a bad mother and a foul smelling human being. Then
Lucy told me she wouldn't rest until she saw me lying face up in a
grave. I mean it was bad enough she wanted me dead but now this sick
mutha fucker wanted witness it.
Then she said, "Oh I hear you misplaced your panties they are in here,"
she said to me as she pointed to a room.
Something about that didn't seem right. How would Lucy know that I
wondered? I went in the room and was nearly blown away, there was Hedda
Hopper and Louella Parsons and they was naked and having lez sex. And
right between these disgusting old crones was my panties and the old age
ridden, fat gossip columnists were using them as a sex toy. And get this
"Bitch Ball" was filming it.
"You disgusting bitches," I yelled at the two hags then "Bitch Ball"
told me that if I agreed to join in the fun with those ugly bitches
she'd not ruin my career.
"Look you stupid bitch,' I said to the pervert Lucy, "I'd rather go to
heaven than be cast to hell for being a perverted homosexual." Suddenly
that dumbass Irma, burst thru the door and yelled, "Lucy's not a bitch,
she just wants to make perverted lesbian porn so she can sell it to
other perverts and make enough money to prop up the North Koreans and
the Viet Cong." Then she ran off.
Well I told Lucy what she could do with my panties and that only made
Hedda Hopper and Louella Parson hornier with each other. I retched as I
ran out of the room. As Lucy was commanding her cameraman to catch this
sexual affront to God on film. What a sick fuck Lucy was.
That afternoon we had our last meeting before the show taping. I was so
glad the next evening we'd film the show and I'd be done with this
horrible experience.
I got to the meeting and sat next to Viv and Bill who were secretly
holding hand under the table. Viv told me how "Bitch Ball" used money
from her perverted porn to prop up her show. She told me that she also
used the profits to prop up Communist causes all over the world. You see
Lucy bought all the advertising for "I Love Lucy," and bribed Nielsen so
her show would look like it was more popular than it was.
It was an awful meeting, meaning that AWFUL Lucy showed her pig like
face.
We were all sitting around listening to Bill tell an amusing story when
all of a sudden Lucy got up and passed gas. She was such a pig.
Then Viv trying to change the subjected said "What a nice sweater you
have." I said "Would you like it?" Viv replied with a yes and stood up
and took it off and gave it to her. Then that fat ass Lucy got all mad
because she didn't get anything. She walked over to me and said, "I'm
the star you should give me presents."
"Get fucked you bitch," I said to Lucy, as the door to the conference
room opened up and in rushed Irma screaming, "Lucy's not a bitch, she
just thinks if there is any free things she should get them all despite
already having millions of dollars and only paying her staff scale.
Then Irma ran out of the room, suddenly in Lucy rushed over to me and
pulled down my pants and Hedda Hopper and Louella Parson ran in the door
and snapped photos of me. Of course because those fat lesbians were
using my stolen underwear in their porno, I wasn't wearing any
underwear. Lucy cackled and said, "There you go ladies she's the pervert
who doesn't wear underwear."
Of course Lucy would later change the story to make me look like slut
when in reality it was "Bitch Ball" who was the pervert.
Then the still mostly drunk Lucy sat down and passed more gas.
Then Richard Deacon got up shook "Bitch Ball" and said "Lucy I want my
payment." "So," said the inebriated Ball awakening, slightly, from her
drunken stupor, "Go get him."
With that the overweight bald headed Deacon went over to the place where
Desi Jr was still eating out of a sack of flour, and picked up the young
boy. Then Deacon said, "I hope you're ready."
"What's going on?" I yelled
"Mind you're own damn business Tallahassee," said "Bitch Ball," again
getting my name wrong, as she stepped between me and the door which
Deacon had just left out of.
"That ain't my name you stupid bitch," I said. "Suddenly the door burst
open and in ran Irma saying "Lucy's not bitch, she just wants to stop
you from knowing that Richard Deacon is a flaming homo and Lucy pays him
by allowing him to rape her sons ass."
Then Irma ran away.
Well naturally with the obese Lucy standing between the door and me what
could I do? I said "Lucy there's more gin on the table." Lucy than ran
away from the door and went to the table only to see there was no gin or
any other alcoholic drinks. "You lying whore," said the filthy mouthed
Lucy turning towards me.
But I was out the door and of course I stopped the homosexual Richard
Deacon from trying to convert poor innocent Desi Jr into a homo by
raping his child butt.
Then came the day we were to shoot the show, I was so nervous about the
state "Bitch Ball" would be in and I wanted to get it over with. And
sure enough she showed up drunk. What a lush Lucy was.
I was standing back stage when Vivian came up to me and handed me a
script. "What's this?" I asked. Vivian explained that this is what they
always do on the Lucy show.
It seems since Lucy was drunk 99% of the time all they do is read old
"My Favorite Husband" scripts to the audience. Since these scripts were
funny no matter WHO read them, they would simply record the audience's
laughter and then insert the laughs. That way they could claim, it was
done before a live audience.
Vivian explained that Lucy being drunk all the time is why the show went
to an hour format. That was because it took a MONTH to film the show
with "Bitch Ball" being drunk all the time.
Then I heard the audience, I peaked out of the curtain and saw them all
there. They were all standing up and cheering " Tallulah, Tallulah," and
"We want Tallulah." Now I was kind of mad, after all "Bitch Ball" was
such a conceited alchey that she thought no one would know who I was and
here were all my fans, thousands of them, wanting to see me perform and
I had to give them a second rate performance of an old radio script.
Then Desi Arnaz came out to "warm up" the audience, you know tell them
what to expect, but he was awful. He kept throwing kisses to his clappy
looking lady friends in the third row. I guess his hookers wouldn't rate
the good seats.
He was horrible, no one could understand him, even I couldn't and I
speak fluent Spanish. He was just a big fat blob of nothing, standing
there trying to be funny.
He was even worse as my fans started demanding to see me. They now were
on their seats saying, "We want
Tallulah, we want Tallulah,"
"She soon here am, after you see Lew-yee," said Desi in his broken
English.
"Not soon, now!!!" Said a little old lady, "I didn't come here to see
that drunk bitch."
"Lewy no batch," said the fat Desi, not
really making any sense.
"Lucy's IS a bitch," reaffirmed the little old lady, "I certainly ought
to know what my daughter is."
That's right, the little old lady was DeeDee Lucy's own mother.
Suddenly "Bitch Ball" appeared out of nowhere, dressed only in her bra
and bunched up panties, still stanking of course. "Bitch Ball" ran down
the stage to DeeDee.
"Shut the fuck up, you old piece of shit," screamed Lucy.
With her hippopotamus sized legs chaffing all the way, Lucy made her way
down to her sweet little momma and
clotheslined her mother across her throat.
DeeDee fell down, as the enraged Lucy shrieked at her.
"Call me names will you," shouted Lucy as she bounced her enormous fat
ass over poor DeeDee's face
"I will not be silent," said DeeDee, "you ARE a bitch,"
As Lucy started to put the full weight of her 250 pounds into punching
her sweet 85-year-old, 85-pound mother, I went into action. I couldn't
let Lucy beat up a sweet little old lady.
Then Vivian grabbed my shoulder and said, "If you hit her, you'll never
work in this town again."
"I don't care," I said, "Right is right and I can't stand by and watch a
little old lady beaten up."
I rushed down there and pulled the balding Lucy up by her red hair, and
smacked her one right across her mouth. A big wad of tobacco fell out of
her mouth.
I then punched her in her big fat hirsute belly, and the fat,
foul-mouthed bitch, fell backward. She tried to make her way up the
stage as I started after her.
My fans were now on their seats scream "Go Tallulah Go."
"You will not abuse our senior citizens, not while I'm alive," I yelled.
"Bitch Ball" clawed her way up to the stage, obviously afraid of me. I
followed her up the stairs, grabbed her by, what was left, of her hair
on her balding head, and said, "Now apologize to your momma."
"Blah, blah, blah," screamed the hideous Ball, flailing her arms over
her head like the drunken wild woman she was.
With that I reeled back and smacked the tobacco-laden cheeks of the
bitch's fat face.
Lucy's tobacco fell out of her mouth; she fell on it, tumbled backwards
and hit the ground. Her enormous rhinoceros ass hit the stage floor and
put a huge crack in the floor. Her fat ass fell thru the stage floor and
she was stuck there.
"I've had it I said." I was sick of this fat bitch and decided I
wouldn't let my fans down.
"Why whatever do you mean Tuscaloosa?" Asked "Bitch Ball," who was now
trying to suck up to me to avoid being hit again.
"That ain't my name BITCH, " I told her and I kicked her teeth. Of
course "Bitch Ball" was wearing false teeth and they broke. Why are you
so upset you fat ass BITCH, " I asked her? You can still drink your
supper.
Then Irma ran up on stage and said "Lucy's not a bitch, she just thinks
it is perfectly acceptable to beat up her disabled mother. " Then Irma
wisely ran off before I could get my hands on her.
I then walked over to the stagehand and got that week's script. I walked
back over to "Bitch Ball" who was still trying to get out of the hole
her fat ass made, and I said, "Look you fat cow, my fans came here to
see a show and by God you aren't gonna ruin it for them. So you better
learn this script. You got a half hour." And with that I threw the
script at "Bitch Ball"
Vivian rushed over and said "But Tallulah, she drunk, she can't learn it
in a half an hour."
I looked at Vivian then glared at "Bitch Ball," and said "Well she
better learn it or I guess I'll have to come out here and SLAP the drunk
out of her.
Of course the fat bitch did the show perfectly in one take. She knew I'd
slap her silly if her dumbass did otherwise.
And of course, as Vivian said, the fat bitch also saw to it that MY
reputation was ruined.
That show guest starring me, was the highest rated of the hour long Lucy
series and it was the most critically acclaimed so CBS offered me my own
show but true to Viv's words "Bitch Ball" got CBS to rescind their
offer.
Then he got her two lesbian friends, Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper to
lie and say that I was the drunk and caused problems, which the
perverted lesbians wrote in their gossip columns even though it was her
that caused the problems.
And to this day she tells a phony made up story that I was the problem
and not her.