It’s shot to hell.Yeah, yeah, my shit’s fucked up.It has to happen to the best of us.The rich folk suffer like the rest of us.It’ll happen to yo....”-Warren Zevon, “My Shit’s Fucked Up“Hi, Susan again. Since this part involves me a lot, I’ll be trading back and forth with The Masked Person for some of it. (I’ll tell you when it’s me, just to keep things clear.)I was in the master bedroom of the La Contessa suite at the Seattle Hotel de San Finzione. The penthouse suite had been designed to. ‘It’s okay,’ I assured him. ‘I honestly don’t mind. In fact, I find it… flattering.’ Our eyes met, and I smiled warmly at my big brother. The eyes – almost identical to mine – pierced me deeply, and suddenly I found that I was breathless, like prey trapped in a corner, shrinking back in fear, heart pounding violently and the lungs completely unable to function. Yet I was not afraid at all, so even though my heart was pounding vehemently and sounding loudly in my ears, the fact that I was. Moving my hand underneath I squeezed the outside of her ass. When she smiled, I knew I was in good shape. Stroking her thighs up and down I looked into her eyes and moved my hands on the inside of her legs and inched my way to her panty covered pussy. When I touched her panties she opened a little and let me stroke her clit but then closed right up. “OK that’s enough, I can’t stand this… Let’s go for a walk, we’ll be able to cool down”. She said, still smiling. Damn, I had not gotten anywhere. ”“HE’S WHAT?““He has a recording studio where they make the radio and television advertisements.”“Here in Hot Springs?”“Yes, and we work for him. Why are you looking at us like that? Do you need some of your songs recorded?”“I need all of them recorded!”“You mean - your song has been playing almost non-stop on the radio, and you’ve never made the first record?”“Not a one. Do you think...”“Come with us and bring your manager. We’re going to meet with our Father, and we’re going to sign a.