Mortimer Larp III

Thursday, January 08, 2004
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Mort!

Wow! What a New Year's! Boy, did Mort ever tie one on! ("Shouts out" to Carmen Electra for lending me the lampshade, to Rush Limbaugh for the Ecstasy and, most of all, to Paula Francis for the paint thinner!) As always, the shindig on the Strip was a veritable mushroom cloud of alcohol, fireworks, boobs, vomit and cops, and I was there--pen in hand, beer can hat on head--to take in the sights.

The first thing I noticed was, of course, the beefed-up security. Cops everywhere, their hairy arms crossed, thunking their nightsticks, lining the streets in a torrid parody of a police state--now I know what John Ashcroft dreams about! Thing is, though, they were nice. Though one gruff, mustached, jackbooted thug did try pushing me around. Whoops...that was Rosie O' Donnell. Turns out I accidentally cut in front of her in the line to the Porta-Potty. Sorry!

As I wandered around, the streets slick with Tequiza, it became easier to spot celebrities: There was Michael Jackson, his bony claw clamped tightly around the wrist of a visibly struggling, visibly drugged Haley Joel Osment. There was Gen. William Clark, his bony claw clamped tight around the wrist of a visibly struggling, visibly drugged Howard Dean. There was Gov. Schwarzenegger, his meaty paw clamped tightly around whatever female appendage happened to be within reach. I also bumped--literally--into Tom Cruise (ow! my kneecap!), as well as Paris Hilton, who was busy blowing a huge party favor--er, wait, that was a drunken frat boy. My favorite part, though, was watching Celine Dion give a good-natured smooch to Danny Gans when the clock struck midnight, and how Gans--suddenly bug-eyed and frozen in terror--shriveled into something resembling beef jerky as his life force was slowly sucked from him. It was the only time I ever have and will ever shout the word "encore" in relation to anything Dion does.

But the real insanity wasn't until two days later, when pop singer Britney Spears tied the knot with childhood chum Jason Allen Alexander. Acting on a pre-emptive tip, Mort was able to disguise himself as a tasteful vase at the Little White Wedding Chapel. Here's what I overheard:

Britney: "I do."

Alexander: "I do, too. Now, let's consummate!"

Spears declined--though upon discovering me hunched in the corner, her interest in a tryst was sparked anew. No kidding! However, my lips are forever sealed on whether Spears was later "Mortified." Ciao!