The live audience, still on their feet, once again, turned their noses towards Carlito waiting for a legitimate response they could mimic in unison. But this time Carlito couldn’t provide anything, not even a furrowed brow, beyond the movement of his Adam’s apple as he sucked and swallowed his saliva. What he might have found to be an oppressive focus of attention was only broken by the echo of the whore’s most subtle giggle: a soft, childish giggle that reverberated throughout the studio. Majority of the late-night television viewers, those who were not tuned in to Channel 12, witnessed a seasoned whore blush and giggle as she recalled her first experience of intercourse. And as if the audible sigh was some divine command, Boy Miranda turned to the camera, the lens of the camera zoomed towards him in a close-up, the show’s theme music blared in the background, and the interviewer intoned: “Who is this man who has captured her innocence? Who is this man who has provided her with so much ecstasy as to lead her into the forbidden path of whoredom? Who is this man who has summoned the spirit of Eros from the loins of this woman as to make her completely surrender her virtue and induct her to the mystical power of the insatiable carnal appetite? We will find out when Transgression Television returns!” It all happened at the same time, the turn of the interviewers head, the audiences audible sigh, the show’s theme music and the interviewer’s consecutive questions asked in a voice of both semi-animation, semi-foreboding; and it all happened in such perfect, flawless synchronicity, that anyone could have sworn that there was a button somewhere that had been pressed to cause all these theatrics. Carlito may have been so overwhelmed with the feeling of unimportance that, momentarily, his demise from superstardom to obscurity and insignificance may have flashed before him the way one’s life flashes before one’s vision shortly before death grants eternal slumber. Anyone in his position may have been provoked to ask himself, “How about me? Aren’t they going to ask how I provide Katja with ecstasy; how I have summoned Eros from her loins and made her surrender her virtue to me?” Eyewitness accounts have made known how during this frenzy, Carlito put both hands inside his jean pockets, tucked in his chin, and dragged his feet backstage where he lit up a cigarette and watched Katja from a monitor. A personnel manager went backstage to offer him an ash tray. This personnel manager provided an account of what she heard. According to her, Carlito was backstage in the locker room sitting on a wooden chair with Katja’s name on it, and he said, “Go ahead and tell them his name, you whore,” under his breath. He was fuming. Then an old lady said, “I know who you are.” To which he replied, “I didn’t notice you there, lola. A lot of people know me
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Likhaan