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They Were Dying, Part 2 of 7
(Here, Clark Gable is speaking. Gaylord Langland was the character he played in the just-completed movie. "Trotsky" is his nickname for Arthur Miller and the "little girl" is Marilyn Monroe. Gable did not attend the wrap party and died of a hreat attack the following day.) Gaylord Everything just happened wrong. It'll do that, sometimes. A movie set is like a ship, I guess. Some are happy, some not. I'll skip the party. I've seen enough, and I'm feeling kind of rough. Trotsky? I won't bad-mouth the guy. He knows so many things, but he doesn't know women. It was sad to watch him try. When a woman decides, inside, to pass on you, you're screwed. Not even dynamite will do. I told him, "Don't cling. Stop thinking you can change things." His intellect is all he had, and he certainly deployed it. But pain is part of the deal. Can't none of us avoid it. The little girl? We had a fling. She's not like anybody thinks. The brassy, buxom bitch is some ad-man's creation. She's a brittle little child. Her skin is too thin. You cut your hand, she feels it. In my philosophy, it's a simple equation: they pay me, I show, ready to go. I don't know why they need these analysts and therapists. Business before show. She asked a bunch of stuff, couldn't get enough. Wanted my suggestions. Hungry to hear about Harlow, got me over a barrel on Yvonne De Carlo. Even asked about Carole. I said, "Easy, Harietta. You'll never know a man better by asking him questions.
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