Kim Fowley?

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We made it to a house somewhere in the hills of Los Angeles

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We made it to a house somewhere in the hills of Los Angeles. We drove in the van and parked in front of a very nice house. The kind of place you see in magazines and on television where Cher might live. Harry smiled at me helping me off the van, fixing his hair back as we held hands up the pathway leading to the house.

Greg knocked on the door and after a minute, a maid opened the door. "Can help you?" She said in a very strong Hispanic accent.

"Yeah, we're here to see Kim Fowley." She looked at us.

"Mr. Fowley is sleeping-"

"Lulu! Let them in and tell those cunts to meet me in the dining room!" A voice suddenly boomed. She sighed shaking her head and letting us in. We all looked at each other as she took us into a ridiculously hideous cheetah printed room.

"Please sit, breakfast will be done soon." She left and we all looked around at each other.

"Harry you talk you're good with people like him," Mitch told Harry who nodded quickly. I didn't know what Kim looked like- up until now, I thought he was a woman.

I didn't expect him to look like anything in particular, but when he walked in I almost gasped at the appearance of the man wearing a leather collar around his neck, leopard printed underwear and a silk robe that was wide open. "Ah great let me see what I have here." No introduction needed for a man like this. He was tall and scary.

"Hi I'm-" Harry began but was stopped.

"Zip it I don't care, I am not here to make friends I'm here to clean your shit up and get you into a few clubs to network with people out here since your piece of shit manager can't function unless he has a cock in his ass." He sat down and looked at us. "You!" he pointed to Mitch. "Name and instrument."

Mitch cleared his throat. "Oh uh, Mitch I'm the guitarist." He nodded.

"Yeah you look like a damn hippie and I hate that shirt- cut the hair wear less yellow."

"

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