Sarah glanced at me, her expression saying, Is there something I need to know?

I shrugged. "Neal here is mourning Princess Diana."

"Oh, Neal," Sarah gently remonstrated. "That was so long ago. She needs peace now. She really does. And we all need to move on ... individually and as a society."

"You think so?"

"I know so, Neal."

Neal wore a face of profound sadness. "You're American, Sarah, so you'll never know what it was like to have Diana as your princess ... your very own princess."

"But I do read magazines-at least, I used to, before the Internet. And if Di's wedge-cut hairdo didn't change the way the women in my hometown looked at both themselves and at royalty, then nothing did. She was a force of nature."

"Seriously? In the United States, too? Her hair was her trademark, you know."

"Oh, I know. People think Americans are morbidly obese Wal-Mart shoppers who willfully undereducate their young people just so they can save a few extra dollars to pay for their five-ton recreational vehicles, but Americans are more than that, Neal."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Americans are ..."

I swear that if real life could ever break into a song and dance number, that would have been the moment.

"Americans are ..."

Neal was staring at Sarah wide-eyed, as if waiting for her to confirm whether fairies were real.

"Americans are ... basically Englishmen with the English part removed."

"Yes?" Neal sat up on the bed, clearly still in suspense. "What else?"

Sarah paused to think. "Americans are ..."

Needy glances were exchanged in all directions.

Her face brightened. "Americans are the people who watch the TV show we are currently producing on this very island! Isn't that something?"

Silence. Neal slumped back on his pillows.

Sarah looked crushed by her failure-and touchingly demure. "I don't know what to say about Americans, Neal. They'll do anything for no reason whatsoever and go down in flames smiling at the TV camera while doing it. It's kind of awesome, but it worked much better when there were only a few million of us instead of 350 million. There's not much left to consume. In fifteen years, we turn into India. We're a catastrophe in the making."

Neal looked unutterably sad-and sympathetic. Sarah looked like she was melting. Ho. Ly. f.u.c.k. Neal and Sarah were having a moment of real connection. This was intolerable.

"Neal, about my Cure T-shirt ..."

"What about it, Ray?"

"May I please have it?"

"I don't have your shirt, Ray."

"Now, now, don't be coy. Just tell me where it is, and I'll fetch it and pretend you never brazenly lied to me like you just did."

"I didn't take your shirt, Ray. You gave it to Sarah, remember?"

"Oh. Right. I did." f.u.c.k.

"And I gave it to Fiona," said Sarah. "I hope that's okay. She looked so sad, having to jet back to do the recasting. I thought the shirt would be a nice pick-me-up, although I had to Google the Cure to find out who they were."

"I-" I was livid, but couldn't let on.

"Fiona's back," said Neal. "She'll probably be resting up in the tent city."

"You should go visit her, Raymond. I know she still has strong feelings for you," Sarah said.

"I'm sure she does."

Mental images of Fiona's warty face quickly made me remember why I was really there on the North Island: Thong Kong and the promise of unlimited p.u.s.s.y. I felt conflicted because I had genuine feelings for Sarah, yet I also still wanted a full-on highly lubricated orgy. I sighed. Life does throw us these cruel existential puzzles.

Sarah had to leave. "Bye, fellas. I'm off to tame the beast!"

I was unsure what she meant, but whoever the beast was, I would love to be him, being tamed by Sarah.

41.

"Sarah's a nice girl, Ray. You sweet on her?"

"Neal, I came here for Thong Kong, and I want it now! I want acres of throbbing, needy c.o.c.ktail-bunny quim. I want-wait-I think I am sweet on Sarah."

"Well, she's a keeper, she is. Just like that LACEY of yours."

"LACEY is not mine, Neal. Why on earth does everyone think we're life partners?"

"You're the one who had the epic f.u.c.kfest with her."

"Neal, there's just something not right in the head with LACEY. The only thing you can do to fix a girl like her is go back in time to the age of fourteen, or whenever it was, and unmolest her or whatever it was that happened to her-but you can't really do that, so instead we end up with a world of LACEYs, wasting valuable food and oxygen and causing ma.s.sive problems within the service industry."

"I hear there's a sacrificial rock nearby. Want to go see it? I need to exercise a bit to help the sprain. Could be fun-a small hike, nature, coconuts ..."

"Neal, you're trying to change the subject. I want a p.u.s.s.y blizzard and instead you offer me a field trip to see a rock?"

"Touch of culture never hurt anyone."

"And how did they ever get a rock onto this island anyway? The whole place is made of coral."

"See, Ray-makes you want to investigate, doesn't it?"

I sighed. "I suppose so. Get out your cane and we'll go see this magical stone."

Neal quickly donned another of Arnaud du Puis's linen outfits. "Some people say the rock was delivered here by s.p.a.ce aliens, Ray."

"You have got to be f.u.c.king kidding me."

We headed out the door into the perpetually hot, wet terry towel of a day. The idea of a sacred rock made me think of Stonehenge and alien theories about it. "Stonehenge being designed by aliens is c.r.a.p, Neal. Think about it: aliens establish contact with earthlings and instead of giving us something useful, like mathematics, wheels or the power of flight, they decide instead to give us large rocks?"

"Never thought of it that way, Ray."

We rounded a corner. Neal's face lit up. "We're here!"

I looked at the rock. It was a rock. I hated it. "You lead me to believe we're off to see Stonehenge, and instead all I see is this?"

"Ray, I think you oversold it to yourself. I only said it was a rock. Even still, it's sort of awe-inspiring. Reminds us that we're all made of stars."

"It's a f.u.c.king rock!" I kicked it, which was a stupid idea. I hopped about for a bit on one foot, shrieking.

"The G.o.ds are punishing you for mocking their sacred rock."

I literally screamed at Neal, "I don't f.u.c.king care about some f.u.c.king rock!"

"Temper, temper. Come back to the house and I'll find you some painkillers."

I felt a rare pang of remorse for screaming at Neal. "Some painkillers might be rather nice."

Back at the house, Elspeth and Tabs greeted us at the front door, dressed in Playboy Bunny costumes. At last, the G.o.ds were smiling on me.

Then I remembered: didn't Neal owe me that piece of red plastic? That f.u.c.ker.

Stonehenge is a prehistoric monument located in the English county of Wiltshire. It is composed of two rings of standing stones set within the earth. The site is surrounded by hundreds of burial mounds, known as barrows.

The smaller, inner circle was built between 2400 and 2200 BC. Some of its original stones have been removed, some have fallen over and other missing stones have been cut up and used for other construction purposes by subsequent generations. The stones weigh up to 4 tons each and were quarried around 230 miles away in the Preseli Hills of southern Wales.

The larger, outer circle is estimated to be about five hundred years younger than the inner ring. Its stones weigh up to 50 tons each. They are sandstone erratics, which can be found scattered all over the English chalk downs. They are likely to have been transported to the site from the neighbouring Marlborough Downs, 25 miles to the north.

Stonehenge was completed around 1500 BC. It had fallen into a state of obscurity and disrepair, and in 1982 was slated to be torn down to make way for a housing subdivision until the stone grouping was repopularized by the beloved 1984 cult film This Is Spinal Tap.

I decided I'd be gentlemanly in front of the ladies. I said, "h.e.l.lo, ladies."

"h.e.l.lo to you, too, Raymond," Tabs said. "Is Neal filling you in on the excitement of island life?" She had become s.l.u.tty perfection indeed. My, how quickly that doe-eyed, fresh-faced thing had gone native.

"Yes, I suppose he is."

Neal's face was childlike. "We went to visit the sacrificial rock."

Elspeth squeaked, "No! You shouldn't be up and about." Her eyes were moist and wide, as though she were worried about a wounded kitten.

"Thanks, Elspeth. But a short walk is good for a sprain. I didn't want the blood pooling."

"Neal," I said, "there's just one thing. A few days ago, back on the bus, we made a deal about that piece of red plastic."

"Indeed we did, Ray."

"Excellent. So hand it over and I'll consider us square."

"Oh, um ... you see." Neal and the girls exchanged guilty looks. "Your piece of red plastic. Right."

"So you do acknowledge that it rightfully belongs to me."

"Oh, no question, Ray. You earned it fair and square for removing Sh.e.l.ley's skin tag, bloodbath and all."

We lapsed into awkward silence. As I am known to be debonair at times, I thought I'd say something witty. "Come on, then, you didn't do something stupid and stuff it up your a.r.s.e, did you?"

Hydraulic jackhammers couldn't have roused the trio more quickly. "Who told you!?"

"Ha, ha. Yes, yes. Good fun. Good fun. Give me my plastic, Neal."

They stared at me. It was sinking in: Neal actually had stuck my sacred plastic up his a.r.s.e.

"Neal, tell me this isn't true."

"Now, Ray, you need to know-"

"Know what? What could explain this?"

"Here's the thing, Ray. I didn't stick it up my a.r.s.e to keep it from you. I stuck it up my a.r.s.e because ..."

"Yes?"

"Because Elspeth thought it was just the right size and shape for a ripping good prostate ma.s.sage."

"She what?!"

"Really did the trick, too, I must say." Neal winked at the blushing Elspeth.

I was speechless. Who wouldn't be?

"And then it got stuck in there sideways and, as you know, I developed p.u.s.s.y fatigue. I might be able to remove it, but the rectal trauma could be horrific. I believe I should leave it there until it vacates the premises naturally."

"Neal, you are going to take a pair of giant forceps, right here and now, and pry my much-deserved treasure from your b.u.t.t."

Everyone giggled.