IT WAS A SCATTERED and disjointed scene, as are most parties at the Depps’ house. I use Depps, plural, as due to some tinkering with the space-time continuum, or other freak accident, there are now two of them, and they are both the same Johnny. There is a 40-ish Depp, the one who starred in The Curse of the Black Pearl, and then a much older one, the graying, grandpa Depp, about to star in some future, unpenned installment of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. The older Johnny Depp gives the younger one pointers, but they don’t always see eye to eye. Sometimes the younger one listens, sometimes not. Because they host so many events, these discussions are usually around trivial matters, where to place the beer keg, for example, or what kinds of wine to serve. If you remember correctly, there is a back living room with plush couches, a large, open central area, complete with a kitchen and well-lit by skylights, and then another room beyond that, where the boys and girls like to play billiards and there’s even a juke box with records by the Electric Prunes and Amboy Dukes and “Rumble” by Link Wray. Beyond the billiard-juke box room, there is a smaller space. This is where Depp, Sr. and Depp, Jr. keep the wine. The wine room. There’s whiskey in there too. Cognac. The man (or men) likes to drink. Of course, someone had to bring a python to one of these things. It was the night that Stig was over to host another murder mystery. Stig, as you know, carries a slingshot in his back pocket for protection. One can never be too careful. Considering I was stuck in Johnny Depp’s liquor stash, cornered by this tropical snake, I thought it would be an apt time for him to wield it. But he said no. Not only did he only use the slingshot on special occasions, but he didn’t want to get his suit dirty. Then he told me the snake was my problem. Stig turned off the lights, shut the door, and went back to hosting.
north! 