In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

was tempted to kick him out there and then, but for the boy's fortune,
that was willed to him. So Angelo stayed in his room to the ghastly,
horrific end. The disease progressed swiftly and mercilessly, but in the
end he still suspected Sandro of asphyxiating his brother with a pillow
to ease his misery. Ula could never be approached on the subject,
strengthening his suspicion that she was an accomplice in the crime, a
suspicion confirmed when the two of them flew off to Rome with the
urn. French laws regarding euthanasia were not something to get
tangled up in, especially if they dragged out everything else.
This began with a series of campy soft porn photo montages
that caught the attention of the art world. There is no publicity like the
negative publicity of scandal and from the time they were toddlers the
boys attracted their fair share of it. Back then Dick's new friend
Salvador Dali had prints made of their little sphincters on wet rag paper
to prove a pet theory of his, that identical twins had identical creases
radiating from their tiny orifices, and in fact the two baby bottoms
prints were virtually indistinguishable one from the other. Dick's
complicity in the project galvanized his friendship with that eccentric
genius, boosted his standing in the art world a few notches, and with
these masterpieces of posterior art, the twins began their life of secret
celebrity, leading to starring roles in controversial contraband movies
that still lurked on certain Internet sites and on the shelves of specialty
establishments, loci that with the ruthless pedophilia purges of the new
millennium pointed directly back to Dick. The twin prints were now
innocently framed in the living room, one above the other next to the
large painting, and anyone who didn't know what they were would
think they were a biomorphic surrealist soft sculpture.
Dick climbed up the narrow back stairs to the maid's rooms
where he kept his photos and tchochkes. He pulled the framed
Cibachromes from the racks to mount them in the hall next to the
celebrity shots. They were harmless enough and the colors would pep
up the long hall. Although Richard Schwanz was never a stellar
photographer he did have a knack for attracting attention and with
those photos and the two beautiful boys at his sides he'd found the keys
if not to the town, at least to all the right parties in town. The photos
would merely be seen as part of the autobiographical exhibit on the
walls of the long corridor.
He might as well throw in that first full length portrait he'd shot
of Angelo as Art-Deco drag queen. Not entirely his work, as it was
styled by that ridiculous freak Madame D'Oc, hair dresser to the Beau
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