Chapter 11
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
I dedicate this first chapter to my accountants, Bernie and Barry Cedar, whichever comes first. Dick used to say: "Babes, they can only tell you where you’ve been. They can’t tell you where you’re going." That was Dick. He was wrong. I’m Rod. Good name for a guy down the tube. They trust you, if you’re a Rod. Abes and Tonys they watch. Rods get sympathy. Wear a neat suit with a small knot in your tie. Say yes. Nod. Get humble. You’ll make out. When Dick hung himself he had a small knot in his tie. Around his neck. Dick was something else. Dick was gangbusters. Some people thought Dick was shady. He wasn’t. Dick’s father was shady. He stood in the shade a lot. In the shadows. Dick’s father was the Godfather of Greenwich. Dick had a lot of teeth. Great teeth. Dick smiled and toothpaste moved off the shelves. He had curly hair on his head, chest and legs. He had hair down the tops of his hands. He had hair in his mouth. He shaved the bottoms of his feet. Dick was something else. When we pitched the Kitty Litter business he shaved a "K" in his chest. I wore a doggie bag. We didn’t get the account. Dick smiled too much. It took their minds off his "K." They thought we were nuts. We were American Pitch men. For those of you who have been bankrupt, you know that Chapter 11 is a holding pattern. You’re not quite out of business but you’re pretty broke. They let you stay in business as long as you wear small knots and act humble. You must promise things. I now promise you Chapter 10 to get you out of Chapter 11. Dick was good at promises. He got his promises from God. Dick was a believer, a teacher. Besides all his hair and great teeth, Dick had faith. His teeth gave him face. When he smiled at himself he knew he was good. He once Xeroxed his teeth and sent them to Xerox. He also Xeroxed his d--- and sent it to Xerox. But I’ll tell you about that later. Dick never believed we would be out of business. But I knew it. I knew it from the day we opened up "Homewreckers." It was Dick’s idea, his baby. He used to wet his pants when he answered the phone: "Homewreckers. Good Morning. May we hurt you?" And he’d fall out of his chair laughing. You see, in this business you’ve got to diversify. All you’ve got is some brains, teeth and a few good ideas. When you lose your brains and teeth the ideas aren’t far behind. Time to hang up your jock. So you diversify.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
A wild satire on American business and bankruptcy, Chapter 11 centers on the capricious business practices of two young creative entrepreneurs on their house-boat office anchored on Long Island Sound. Their unusual creative "crew" consists of a computer that can generate food, a mutating creature fondly called the "Quality Rat", and two Siamese Twin women art directors joined at the hip. To bolster sales in their failing ad agency, they institute a floating restaurant, a brothel for their clients, and host fundraising parties aboard the houseboat, underwriting their Fortune 500 clients. During one of these riotous parties, a vicious summer storm literally "sinks" their business, drowning one of the partners along with scores for corporate party-goers. Only the computer, the Quality Rat, and Rod Loeb, the creative director of "Two watt Bulb Advertising" survive.
About the Author
Russ Madison’s first novel, VICTORY AMONG THE INSANE, was compared to Thomas Pynchon, Joseph Heller, Melville and Twain. His second novel, THE MAN WHO WATCHED TRASH, was recently published by 1st books Library. It has been called "highly original, zany, brilliant, unique," by literary agent Wendy Zhorne. She has called Madison "one of the most gifted writers I have ever seen." Renowned New York publisher, Richard Seaver, has called him "a master of comic metaphor." Whatever he is, Russ Madison’s work (he writes on rolls of paper towels) has been passed around and praised in New York’s publishing circles for decades. With the help of a Lannan Literary Fellowship, he is completing a massive novel-fantasy-biography of Norman Mailer. His books, letters, manuscripts and paper towels are archived in Boston University’s Mugar Memorial, Special Collections, Directed by Dr. Howard Gotlieb. He works full time as a creative director with his wife, Gi, a graphic designer and art director in their Connecticut ad agency, Lone Wolf Advertising.