OUTRAGEOUS EPISODE EIGHT: WEIGHT LOSS
Anna gets skinny enough to feel successful again. Trimspa, baby.
Can you admit you don’t know what it fucking feels like to be me?
2003
In her kitchen, Anna struggles to open a bottle of her Trimspa diet pills.
“A week into this weight loss journey and I still can’t see shit,” she says.
Alexander, muscles gripping tight to his chef uniform, prepares her a single egg white and half a grapefruit. He looks like a blonder, hotter Arnold Schwarzenegger – built, lean and tan.
Still struggling with the cap, Anna whines until Alexander does it for her.
“I’m so weak,” she moans. “I can’t even open my pills.”
“You’re not weak,” he coos in his Austrian accent. “These ones are just really childproof.”
He unscrews the cap for her. She picks the cotton out of it and pretends she’s going to eat it.
“That’s how hungry I am,” she says.
“You’re not hungry, you’re bored,” he says.
He grabs her tight and they kiss like porn stars.
“Wait,” Anna says. She shakes out six Trimspa pills and swallows them with the juice. Then she presses her body back against his.
“No, no, no,” he stops her. “Not until after training.”
He takes off his chef top and reveals his Under Armor underneath. They head to the backyard.
“Let’s go! Tap your shoulder, tap your knees. Warm it up Anna,” Alexander barks.
She reaches her hands out and brings her knees to tap them one at a time.
“But I’m tired,” Anna complains.My boobs hurt.”
“You are lucky to be able to use your body this way,” Alexander reminds her. “You are stronger than you think.”
“I’m not,” Anna says. “I don’t have a core.”
Alexander draws close to her and whispers in her ear erotically.
“Are you going to be a good girl for daddy or a spoiled little brat?” he asks her.
“I’m going to be a good girl,” Anna tells him. “I’m a very good girl. I’m on my program. I’m inviting newness into my life. I’m inviting newness into my life. ”
He barks commands to keep her moving.
Later to rise, Kimmy and Daniel meet over bowls of cereal in the kitchen island. They sit at the kitchen island and watch Anna workout through the window.
“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Kimmy says.
“I’ll drive myself today,” Daniel says. “I told you, I don’t need you to drive me anymore.”
“C’mon Daniel, you only have your permit,” Kimmy worries.
Daniel glances out as his mom does a labored bicep curl.
“Later,” he says on his way out the door.
“Don’t slam it!” Kimmy yells.
It slams.
As Kimmy finishes her cereal, she fixates on Anna and Alexander. The attention. The affection. A tear falls into her bowl of cereal-dyed milk. Splat.
Outside, sweat pours off of Anna.
“I want to be done,” Anna moans. “I’m done. It’s too hot.”
“15 crunches to finish or no...,” Alexander threatens.
Anna lowers onto the warm grass and curls her body up.
“Tighten those obliques,” Alexander coaches.
“I told you I don’t have none of that,” Anna pouts.
“Count it down,” he tells her.
“5-4-3-2-1,” she heaves as she finishes.
“Stay there,” Alexander commands.
Alexander kneels by her feet and lifts her legs in the air. He licks her sweaty belly and thighs until he reaches her pussy and licks that too. She moans louder than ever.
OUTRAGEOUS
Anna wears an oversized sweatsuit and lays on top of her big pink bed. The ceiling fan blows so strong it rocks, off-balance. The lights are off and the curtains are closed. The TV blares an episode of the ABC soap opera “General Hospital.” Some drama with Port Charles’ resident crime lord crime Sonny Corinthos is going down. Again. Anna watches intently.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Anna says to the TV as Jason, Sonny’s henchman and the Brad Pitt of the show, fills the frame.
Outside, the September day radiates with the light and warmth of LA’s endless summer vibe. People are out walking, biking and lunching on patios.
Anna’s house feels nothing like this. Pharmacy bags and mail in hand, Howard uses his key to get inside. He’s met with nothing but darkness. Lights off, curtains drawn. He marches toward Anna’s room and finds her in the dark.
“I’m gonna get a migraine in this house, turn a light on,” Howard tells her.
“You told me to lay low,” Anna replies.
“You can’t leave the house, you don’t have to live in the dark,” he says.
“Same thing,” she says.
“Wasn’t this on when I left?” Howard asks. “That was almost three hours ago.”
“That was All My Children, this is General Hospital,” Anna explains. “All My Children is Pine Valley, Port Charles is General Hospital. One Life to Live is Llanview, but characters from Port Charles end up there. That comes on in between.”
“Don’t you think you should do something during the day?” Howard asks.
Anna rises, angry.
“I’m working full-fucking-time to make you and everyone else happy ok?” Anna asks. “Aren’t I on my program? Aren’t I being good? Losing weight? Stayin’ home?”
“I know Anna--” Howard starts.
“No, you don’t fucking know Howard. You don’t know, ok? Can you tell me? Can you tell me you don’t know what it fucking feels like to be me?,” Anna chides.
“I don’t know what it’s like to be you,” Howard admits to her in a heartfelt but cloying tone.
Once she nods, he drops that attitude and gets back to business.
“Have you thought about the press rollout?” Howard asks her.
“Can you just let me lose the weight first?” Anna asks. “Who knows if it’s even gonna work.”
“I think those pills are really doing something,” Howard tells her.
Anna parodies herself as a powerful preacher.
“I told God, please, please merciful God, oh compassionate Lord, please make me less fat, please take this fat away! I beseech you, oh Lord!” Anna preaches. “Make me skinny so people love me again. Amen.”
“I know you’re bored at home, but when the world sees you skinny again, like you want,” Howard says. “You’re going to be really happy.”
She grabs one of her pillows and hits him.
“Can we not talk about my body for one goddamn minute?” Anna asks. “What’s going on with my federal fucking court case? Sometimes I wish we could all just drop it. But I’m not giving up if they’re not.”
“Well, we can’t,” Howard says. “And we shouldn’t, given the mortgage and Daniel’s college fund and your overall lifestyle preferences.”
“I’m like Dolly,” Anna says. “It takes a lot of money to look this cheap.”
“Didn’t you throw up on her at the Oscars?” Howard asks.
“Shut the fuck up Howard,” Anna says. She turns her attention back to the TV and ignores Howard until he leaves the room.
Once he’s gone, she lifts her shirt and traces each curve, corner and stretch mark. She picks up a pair of scissors from the desk and traces her stomach with the pointy tip, then her thighs. She squeezes her flesh tightly, hard enough to leave bruises. She brushes herself with the scissors like she wants to cut her fat off.
Later, in a bathrobe, Anna sits in front of Howard’s laptop and Googles her name. The results she finds aren’t exactly fan pages. She pours over photo slideshows with titles like:
20 HEARTTHROBS TURNED HEAVYWEIGHTS
10 OBESE CELEBRITIES 2003
WORST BEACH BODIES 2002
INSATIABLE AND FAT: HOLLYWOOD’S BIGGEST SEX-STARVED SLUTS
She clicks on articles about her with titles such as:
ANNA NICOLE’S FALL FROM GRACE
THE HYPOCRISY OF ANNA NICOLE SMITH
THE RISE OF DEPLORABLE WOMEN
OBSCENE TV CREATES NEW CHALLENGES FOR PARENTS
WHITE TRASH, D-LIST, AND LOVING IT
REALITY TV, WHERE CELEBRITIES GO TO DIE. RIP ANNA NICOLE.
Anna hangs on that last headline. Kimmy busts in carrying a pharmacy bag.
Anna jumps.
“Here you go Mama,” Kimmy says.
“You scared me!” Anna scolds her. “Did you get everything?”
“Klonopin, Ativan, Serax and Valium,” Kimmy answers.
“What about the other stuff?” Anna asks.
“I don’t think he gave you a refill of that mama,” Kimmy tells her. “They wouldn’t give it to me.”
“God damn it,” Anna says.
“I’m sorry,” Kimmy responds.
Anna gestures for Kimmy to come close so she can hug her.
“It’s ok Kimmy, it’s not your fault,” Anna says. “Guess what? I Googled something. I finally learned how.”
“Good job Mama,” Kimmy says, more concerned than excited. “What’d you Google?”
“Myself,” Anna tells her with a smile. “Gotta keep up with my fans, y’know?”
A couple weeks later, Anna lazily works out on the StairMaster in her home gym. Howard walks in like he means business.
“Anna, you can’t swim anymore,” Howard says. “You can’t go outside.”
“But that’s the only part of my fitness routine I like,” Anna whines. “Well besides, the extra sessions he gives me.”
“You need to stay in here and make sure nobody sees you,” Howard warns. “We’re worried about photographers in the neighbor’s backyards. The longer they don’t see you, the higher the price for your reveal shoot.”
“My fans miss me already,” Anna coos. “I read one of them message boards.”
“Do not let them see you Anna, I’m serious,” Howard warns. “Do you want to ruin all your hard work? You need to sell the first images of the new you, on your terms. It’s too big of an opportunity. ”
“Let’s give 'em something to talk about,” Anna sings Bonnie Raitt to nobody as she climbs her stairs in place.
Her life is like a StairMaster. The climb is gruesome but it leads to nowhere.
“That’s the opposite of what we want,” Howard says. “We want to give them nothing to talk about until it's our turn to talk. Do you understand?”
Anna ignores him. She gets pleasure out of reminding him how pathetic he is, which actually gives him more pleasure than she even realizes.
Is Howard a star-fucker? Is Howard a boot-licker? Is Howard a scammer?
Those questions remain. But is Howard a service-submissive? Absolutely.
Howard takes off his suit jacket and hops on the StairMaster next to her.
“Your bone structure is coming back,” Howard says. “Look at your cheekbones.”
“When I was a kid, Mommy Dearest always told me my face was too pretty,” Anna says. “Too pretty to be fat.”
“She’s right,” Howard agrees, completely missing her point. His phone rings.
“It’s about the 9th district,” he whispers. She nods as he leaves the gym to talk.
“The scale says I’ve lost 25 pounds but I don’t see it,” Anna says. She stares at herself in the gym’s mirrored wall and talks to herself. We see a grotesque rendering of her in the reflection, not just much fatter than she actually is, but redder, hairier and dirtier in her own eyes.
Anna uses a remote to turn the gym’s TV back on and watches a taped episode of her show as motivation.
“I will never look that fat on TV again,” she swears to herself in the mirror as she continues on the StairMaster. “I will never look that fat on TV again.”
She increases the elevation on the machine.
“I am strong. I am getting more powerful everyday,” she says. The intensity of her affirmations reaches full on mania as she forces herself to believe. “I am beautiful. I am smart. I am wealthy. I am a good person. I am a good person.”
Anna gets off the StairMaster, guzzles a ton of water and goes into the gym’s little bathroom to throw up. We hear her dry heaving from outside the door.
After, Anna screams for Kimmy, who rushes in.
“I want to make an enema,” Anna says.
“Should I go buy one?” Kimmy asks.
“No, I can just whittle a bar of soap,” Anna says.
“Should I bring you a fresh bar?” Kimmy asks.
“Yeah, the Dove kind, no cheap hotel leftovers,” Anna tells her.
Kimmy goes digging in a bathroom closet and grabs a bar of soap, then a knife from the kitchen. She hands them both to Anna. Anna shaves off a long, sturdy cylinder of soap.
“That looks about as wide as my asshole, don’t you think?” Anna asks. Kimmy nods in agreement, without indicating that’s something she wouldn’t know.
We cut to Anna on the toilet in her bathroom as she evacuates her bowels. Kimmy waits outside the bathroom door on standby.
“It’s working,” Anna shouts to Kimmy.
Daniel (17, handsome now) crosses the hallway over to Anna’s side of the house. He catches a whiff of her bathroom stink and hangs back, away from the door. Away from her.
“How can you smell this bad when you don’t even eat?” Daniel asks himself about his mom.
“What’d you say pumpkin?” Anna calls out.
“I’m leaving,” Daniel says.
“Where are you going? Isn’t it kinda late,” Anna asks.
“Love you Mom,” Daniel tells her from the other side of the door.
“Love you too honey bunny,” Anna calls out. “When are you coming home?”
Daniel grabs car keys and heads out.
That night, Anna tries to sleep but her mind races. Her feet shake. She calls someone.
“Hello,” Alexander answers from his apartment.
“I love Marilyn Monroe,” Anna tells him, all wound up. “She understands me. Even though I could never even be compared to her, I know. She died at 36. That’s how old I am.”
“You need sleep,” he tells her. “Did you take your sleeping pills?”
“I’m scared Alex. I think, I really think some people are going to show up here and kill me one day. And it won’t be an accident. I don’t trust the locks on my door Alex,” she tells him, reeling, the sound of her psychosis resonating. “Ever since earlier, I just don’t trust ‘em.”
Soon, Alexander appears in their driveway. Anna hides behind the front door and peers out the window as he approaches the front porch. She waits for the very last second to open the door and let him inside.
“Where’s your car?” Alexander asks.
“I don’t know,” Anna tells him. “I don’t go anywhere.”
“Daniel?” Alexander asks.
“Uh, he was home, I think,” Anna says. “What if these people got to him first? Oh my god, I would die. Oh God, please God. Please. I hope there wasn’t an accident.”
Alexander tells her not to panic. They try Daniel’s cell phone and it goes straight to voicemail. Alexander says the phone is probably just dead, but Anna doesn’t care. She keeps calling it.
Alexander calls Howard to see if Daniel’s there with him. He isn’t. Howard drives right over to Anna’s and finds her alone in the front room.
“What was Alexander doing here?” Howard asks Anna. “Did you call him first?”
“Where’s Daniel, Howard?,” Anna cries.
“Did you call Ray? Is he at the old apartment?” Howard asks.
Anna shrugs like she doesn’t know.
Anna freezes up on the couch. Howard tries to embrace her but she’s limp about it.
“Should I order food or something?” Howard asks Anna.
“You know I can’t fucking eat Howard,” Anna snaps.
“Danny’s gonna be just fine, he’s probably with his friends,” Howard tries.
“Who are his friends? We’re his friends,” Anna says. “I can’t imagine who he’s out there running around with, doing God knows what.”
“C’mon Anna, this is our Daniel,” Howard says. “He’s good.”
“My baby,” she says, willing him to return. “This is why everyone should just stay home, together.”
Anna dozes off on Howard’s lap. He follows suit. Alexander returns with the fruit salad and sits in silence waiting for Daniel.
Finally, as the sun rises, Daniel pulls up and approaches the front door. Alexander jostles Anna awake. She throws her arms around Daniel as he enters the house.
“Oh my god, thank you god,” Anna says as she hugs him. “I was worried sick about you.”
“You were worried sick about me?” Daniel asks, trolling. “So what, I stayed out. I’m alright. The car’s alright. The cops didn’t call. You didn’t get a call from the cops or the morgue, did you?”
“Stop talking like that Daniel,” Anna warns him. “I want to know where you were. I need to know where you go and who you’re with and everything else about your life, Daniel. You’re still 17.”
“You’ve never known any of that c’mon,” Daniel howls. “Stop acting like you ever have any fucking clue what I’m doing.”
“What did you just say?” Anna asks. “Is that what you think now? You think I’m a bad mother now?”
“I just think you’re busy with yourself,” Daniel tells her. “You’re always too busy with yourself.”
Anna cries. No, she sobs. She’s never heard Daniel talk like this. He unleashes like never before.
“I love you more than anything in this world,” Anna tells Daniel.
“I love you too,” Daniel says. “That’s not the fucking problem.”
Howard, who's been wanting to get involved this whole time, finally interjects to broker peace.
“Daniel, your mother worries a great deal about you. We all care about you very much and just want to know where you are so we can keep you safe,” Howard explains.
“Well I said goodbye, I’m sorry if you don’t remember,” Daniel tells Anna.
“But you can’t come home at sunrise Daniel, I mean the sun was already up basically, we didn’t know if something happened, you just got your license,” Howard continues.
“Can you just stop?” Daniel asks him. “You’re not my dad. It’s not my fault you like playing dad.”
“Were you with a girl?” Anna asks, concerned. “I don’t want you having sex Daniel.”
“Are you kidding?,” Daniel says. “You fuck every person that works for you! Except Howard!”
Howard, desperate to inflate his own ego again and to lighten the mood, jokes.
“We know you weren’t out with a girl Daniel. At least, I believe you. I know you’re still a virgin, I mean look at you,” Howard cracks.
“You’ve been desperate for my mom for a decade and still haven’t gotten any pussy,” Daniel retorts cooly. “I wouldn’t brag.”
“I’m going to bed,” Daniel says as he eats some of the fruit salad with his hands. “Night everyone…Night Alexander.” Daniel smiles at Howard. The others stay put in the living room and an awkward silence hangs.
Finally, Kimmy shuffles into the room, rubbing her eyes awake.
“Are y’all hanging out without me?” she asks sleepily.
A month later, just over two months on Trimspa, Anna’s weight loss is visibly noticeable.
Thin Anna is here.
She watches a movie and reaches into a bowl of ice chips like they’re popcorn.
“Too cold,” she whines to herself.
She finds Alexander cooking in the kitchen and pulls him into a pantry.
“Trimspa makes my pussy pulse,” Anna whines. “I didn’t think I could get any hornier, but now I’m wet all damn day.”
“I can’t keep up with you,” Alexander tells her. “And Daniel’s home.”
“Shut up then,” Anna whispers. “I need something in my mouth.”
She kneels and sucks his dick.
Later, Anna and Howard each sit on their own homeopathic colonic throne in the guest room. Each manipulates their own water bag as they irrigate their bowels.
“When this is done, she’s bringing in hot tea and it’s going to steam our asshole,” Anna tells Howard. “Mugwort tea or something.”
“I don’t know about that, it’s gonna burn my balls,” Howard tells her.
“Stop being a pussy Howard, it’s good for you,” she tells him. “It’s gonna make your dick taste good.”
“If only I was that flexible,” Howard deadpans. “This bitch better not break the NDA.”
Later that night, Anna lays inside her closet and talks to her dog Sugar Pie.
“Thank god I have you,” she tells Sugar Pie. “You are the most magnificent being.”
Anna gives Sugar Pie a doggy Xanax and pets her until she begins to snore.
A month later, Anna looks skinnier than when we first met her as a teen in Texas. She looks gorgeous, but the dramatic change is also stark.
This is the Yellow Wallpaper stage of Anna’s weight loss isolation. She can’t enjoy her new figure, because all she sees is her fears. When the walls aren’t crawling, she sees panicked visions of herself in the mirror.
Her skin splits open.
Her heart stops.
Honeycombs of fat cells ooze out of her.
Blood spews and splatters.
No matter how gruesome her reflection, Anna can’t look away. She worries the inside of her is still ugly.
Soon after, Howard and Anna review legal stuff in the kitchen when the topic changes.
“The network and our new client both want to Skype with you,” Howard tells her.
“What’s Skype?” Anna says.
“They see how things are going,” Howard says. “With your body. And they know you can’t leave the house.”
“I’m not showing them my body,” Anna says.
“Why is this a problem? You’re at your goal weight. Why can’t you be happy?” Howard asks.
“Would you be happy if you could sweep the floor with your sagging skin,” Anna asks. “My boobs are rocks in socks. I need to do something about them before you have me going around trying to prove how hot I am to everyone.”
“What are you getting at?” Howard asks.
“Now that I’m skinny, I look old as shit,” Anna tells him. “Can’t we ask them to fix it? To pay for a little tune-up?”
“I’ll talk to Trimspa about that,” Howard tells her.
“Trimspa, baby,” Anna beams.
“I’m sure they’ll do anything for their first celebrity spokesperson! Print, TV, billboards,” Howard rejoices. “You’re gonna be everywhere. See, I told you that Stern appearance wasn’t a mistake. It got you Trimspa.”
“I need to look perfect,” Anna squeals in nervous excitement.
“Tell them I need lipo, a boob lift, my breasts redone, lasers, electrolysis, Botox, filler, new veneers,” Anna tells Howard. “Extensions. I want my lips and eyebrows tattooed too but I can probably pay for that. There’s that cheap Russian lady in Studio City. She’s hates me because my checks used to bounce, but we should be good again.”
Daniel storms in in a rush.
“Bye mom, I’ll be back,” Daniel says.
She reaches up and waits until he swoops down to hug her.
“How do I look?” Anna asks.
“I don’t know mom,” Daniel whines.
“You don’t know? What does that mean? Aren’t you proud of me?,” Anna asks.
“You look good,” Daniel says.
“I’ve already lost 60 pounds,” Anna tells him.
“I mean, you don’t eat,” Daniel says. “People usually lose weight when they starve themselves.”
“Yeah, but not that fast,” Anna says. “And I’ve already got a perfect new job with Trimspa.”
“Yeah, I mean, you do love pills more than anyone else I know,” Daniel says, annoyed.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” Anna says sharply. “When did you get so mouthy?”
“So are you quitting E!?” Daniel asks her. “I’m never filming again. I’ll move out.”
“Daniel Wayne Smith, why are you being so grumpy?” Anna asks. “I know you don’t wanna film. I know you don’t want to be famous. What’s a matter? All you have to do is open your mouth and tell me what’s wrong.”
Daniel shakes his head in frustrated disbelief.
“It’s so depressing here. I’m going.” Daniel spits back. “I just want a normal life, not like you guys.”
Daniel storms toward the door.
“Don’t take my car then,” Anna calls out. “Don’t take my car if you hate me so much.”
Daniel shakes his head like, “Oh, please.”
“You should be proud of me!” Anna roars as he leaves. “I’m going to be a spokesmodel again!”
The door slams.
ONE MONTH LATER
A Hollywood hotel room -- a SKINNY Anna lays on the bed in her underwear and stares at herself in the overhead mirror. She rolls around the bed but never takes her eyes off herself. Finally, she smiles.
“I look good from every angle now,” she giggles to herself.
Later, Anna wears a revealing half of a genie costume and jitters in place as she sits for hair and makeup. Her exposed midriff is taut and tan. The makeup artist, a chubby Latino guy, applies Cleopatra-esque eyeliner on her.
“Ok, please hold still a moment so I can get you that precise line,” he asks. He holds her head and paints her eye with his thinnest brush. Just as he creates the perfect geometrical shape on her eyelid, Anna jerks her head, jittery, and the black ink smears across her face.
“Oops,” she says. “Sorry.”
The makeup artist exhales and reaches for a makeup wipe.
“That’s ok, we’ll just start over,” he says kindly. Then he rolls his eyes.
“I’m glad you’re coming to the party,” Anna tells him. “You’re gonna get a DVD of my show.”
“I can’t wait,” he tells her. “I know it’s the DVD release but it’s really all about the debut of this body, isn’t it? You look gorgeous. It’s astonishing. I mean you were always pret---”
“I had to get skinny for the party because I look so fat on the DVD cover,” Anna tells him. “You’ll see. But never again. I’m gonna be skinny ‘till the day I die now, I swear.”
She pinches at her tummy and flicks it with her fingers to make sure it's tight.
“Oh my god, you have to pose right in front of it like your own little before and after,” he says. “That’s a moment. A let-these-bitches-know moment.”
Howard barges into the hotel room.
“Are you ready?” Howard asks. He takes a seat near Anna and lights up a cigarette.
“I don’t know when you started smoking Howard,” she tells him. “You don’t look right holding a cigarette. You look dumb as hell.”
“Anna, I started smoking and you still can’t drop it,” he tells her.
“If I had to get healthy, why don’t you?” Anna asks him.
“Do you want a cigarette?” Howard teases.
“Shut up Howard,” Anna says.
“Remember, do not say you lost all the weight in two months, be vague,” Howard instructs.
“Tease it out if you have to, three, four, five…Talk about discipline. Talk about how tribal South Africans have been using the active ingredient in Trimspa as an appetite suppressant forever. It’s natural.”
Anna nods in agreement.
“Pardon me, but can I finish the eyes?” the makeup artist asks. “Two minutes if you hold still.”
Anna fidgets until the makeup artist presses his body against hers to literally hold her steady. Anna surrenders.
It’s always been like that. She can only relax with a body right on top of her.
Finally ready, Anna summons her courage before the big reveal. This is it. The debut of her new body. We see her praying as she walks, a robe draped over her body, until she reaches the red carpet and drops it.
Ecstatic, she poses in her belly dancer’s costume on the red carpet, emphasizing the slenderness of her waist as she twists.
“I’M BACK BABY,” she yells across the red carpet. Cameras flash like fireworks. The photographers hurl compliments and Anna feels loved again.
Alexander, in a genie costume, and another guy escort her in matching costumes, but they couldn’t matter less.
“I missed you guys,” she calls out to the paparazzi and fans. She hears their uproarious applause and makes a mental recording of it.
“We missed you too,” one guy shouts.
Anna beams, poses with her hands on her flat midriff. She’s the skinniest she’s ever been in her life. Skinnier than she was at the Playboy open call. Skinnier than she was before she had Daniel.
Over the barrage of compliments, Anna hears a guy shout,“What’d you do with your FUPA?”
A flash of familiar dread. But nothing could ruin this moment for her. She’s proud of herself. For once.
“You like my body?” Anna asks.
“Whose that?” she asks as she poses in front of the giant poster of the DVD cover, pointing to her larger self. Once again, making herself the joke before anybody else can.
The storm of flash photography illuminates Anna. She soaks it up like a lizard who gets their energy from sunlight. A fish back in the water. In front of these cameras, her body comes alive.
STAR magazine publishes one of these photos on their cover with the headline: “ANNA NICOLE DROPS 80 POUNDS!”
They run the skinny photo of her in the genie costume is next to a picture of her at the 1996 Oscar parties (bigger body, turquoise dress, smeared lipstick.)
Anna lays in bed reading Star, then US, then In Touch, with a pile of other tabloids at her side. The TV is on, playing a daytime talk show.
“Look, Sugar Pie, mama’s on the cover!” Anna coos to her dog.
She hears her name mentioned and turns up the volume of the TV.
“I’m so proud of Anna Nicole Smith…” the host says.
She flips through the channels. To her delight, she’s everywhere.
Anna gets lost in the media coverage of her weight loss. Full of before and after displays, video clips from the night before and talking heads.
GOOD NEWS FOR ANNA NICOLE SMITH
ANNA NICOLE’S MIRACLE WEIGHT LOSS
ANNA NICOLE LIGHT ON HER FEET AS SHE DEBUTS HER NEW BOD
ANNA NICOLE UNVEILS EPIC TRANSFORMATION
MEET THE NEW AND IMPROVED ANNA NICOLE
ANNA NICOLE SMITH REVEALS HEALTHY, HAPPY MAKEOVER
ANNA NICOLE IS HOTTER THAN EVER
ANNA NICOLE SNAPS BACK
We land on Anna, dolled up in pink with faux fur trim, joining Larry King Live via satellite.
“Is it true you’re skinnier now than when you modeled for Guess?” Larry King asks her. Anna nods happily, “Yes, that’s true.”
“What’s the most you ever weighed?” Larry asks.
“Do you actually think I’m gonna tell you that?” Anna asks.
She turns up her personality even louder, almost yelling.
“Look in my eyes. Do you actually think I’m gonna tell you that?” Anna asks.
“Ok, ok” Larry says. “How much did you lose?”
“You’ll have to watch my show for that,” Anna tells him.
“What?” Larry asks, like he couldn’t hear her.
“My show on E! You’ll have to watch on Sundays. I accidentally said it on camera,” Anna explains into the camera.
We land on Anna watching the West Coast feed of her Larry King interview with Howard, Kimmy and Daniel.
“What’s the most I’ve ever weighed?” Anna says, repeating Larry’s question after it airs.
“The only thing worse than being fat is everyone knowing how fat you are,” barks at Larry King from the comfort of her living room.
“Your new body is global news, Anna,” Howard says. “We did it!”
“Everyone wants to know how I did it,” Anna says. “Trimspa baby!”
She hams it up to make everyone else giggle.
“Which one should we watch next?” Anna asks. “Me on Sharon Osbourne, me on Entertainment Tonight or another Access Hollywood episode? Umm.. I’ve got ‘em all taped…”
Nobody responds. Daniel rolls his eyes. She just picks and grabs her bowl of ice popcorn.
The new Access Hollywood segment begins with an old AH interview Anna did after rehab:
“You want to hear about my child life? You want to hear all the things my mother did to me? All the things she let my stepfather do to me? Or let my brother do to me or my sister? All the beatings and whippings and rape? That’s my mother,” Anna says.
“Why do these people live in the past?,” Anna asks. “They don’t forget nothin’, I swear to God.”
Anna slurps her Diet Coke awkwardly, playing the fool for the group.
“But what I said is true,” she adds.
It’s New York Fashion Week and Anna takes the stage on the Heatherette runway in full Marilyn Cosplay. She wears a flamboyant ode to Marilyn’s pink “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” dress as she struts and sings:
“Men grow cold
As girls grow old
And we all lose our charms in the end
But square-cut or pear-shaped
These rocks don't lose their shape
Diamonds are a girl's best friend”
Anna beams. This is her comeback! And the crowd goes crazy!
After the show, Anna delights every photographer with her sex-symbol poses and rejoices in hobnobbing with Richie Rich and Traver Rains, the Heatherette design duo. They hang with Eve and Boy George. Anna feels like a celebrity again and thanks God for it.
Hearing how skinny she looks becomes her favorite high.
“Everywhere I go people freak out and go crazy like ‘Oh my god,” she tells Boy George. “That’s my favorite part.”
“Not the sex darling?” Boy George asks.
Anna feigns tears as she slugs back her drink and shakes her head “no.”
“At least not yet,” she tells him.
“Maybe I should get on Trimspa,” Boy George says.
The next day, Anna sits down with a Trimspa crew and records a reality-tv style testimonial about her experience returning to the runway after her rapid weight loss with Trimspa.
“I was like, really really, nervous because it was my first time getting back on the runway. I was so, so nervous that I was going to fall. My name is Anna Nicole Smith and I approve this commercial,” Anna tells the camera. “Trimspa baby.” She winks. The director yells “cut” and says they’re changing lenses and will be back in five. Anna stays in her chair.
“Can someone bring me a Diet Coke?” Anna asks.
A makeup artist steps in and powders her.
“You’re doing great,” the makeup artist says. “Almost done. Do you have any plans for the rest of the time you’re in New York?”
Anna nods “no.”
“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day,” Anna adds.
“Don’t remind me,” the makeup artist tells her with a laugh. “You’ve got to have someone trying to take you out on a date though, someone to ravage this new figure of yours?”
“Nope, I can’t remember when I was last asked out on a date. It’s been years,” Anna says.
“I spend my life more and more alone.”
She shows Anna her own reflection in her compact mirror. They gaze at it together.
We cut to a TV screen as another one of Anna’s Trimspa commercials airs. A white Hummer limo drives up to a red carpet mobbed with fans and Anna steps out of it -- skinny and smiling. Heavy metal music plays in the background. Everyone snaps photos of her.
“I’m back,” Anna announces.
“You look unbelievable,” someone in the crowd shouts.
“Get the attention you deserve,” a sexy narrator announces over the footage of Anna.
“Anna, Anna, how did you do it?” someone in the crowd asks.
“Trimspa baby!” Anna gushes.
“Anna, the ultimate comeback,” the narrator moans. “Make yours. 1-800-Trimspa or Trimspa.com”
Daniel and Ray Mantino watch the commercial back on Ray’s couch in the valley (where Daniel lived with Anna and Ray after Anna’s bankruptcy, and while Anna was in the hospital). We hear another commercial begin in the background.
“I can’t take it there. They’re driving me crazy,” Daniel complains. “All of them.”
“The whole circus?” Ray jokes.
“E! cancelled the show,” Daniel tells him. “Thank God. She says she doesn’t care ‘cuz she’s on TV more than ever, skinnier than she was on the show. And all the magazines and billboards. I honestly wish she never lost a fucking pound. She never stops looking in the goddamned mirror.”
“She’s always been like that,” Ray reminds him, lovingly. “She’s a star.”
“No, it’s on another level now,” Daniel insists. “Believe me.”
“Being skinny makes her feel larger than life again,” Ray reckons.
The episode of Star Trek returns so they both shut up and sip their sodas.
Back at her house, Anna watches TV alone in the living room. An afternoon entertainment news program discusses her weight loss.
“It’s very dangerous for her to drop this much weight this fast,” a doctor explains. “This does not look like a healthy skinny.”
“You’re the same quack who called me a cow last year,” Anna yells at the TV. “On this same fucking show.”
“And some rumors say it actually only took Anna 6-8 weeks to get this thin,” the anchor adds.
The doctor shakes his head in disagreement.
“Rapid weight loss is never sustainable and can be very dangerous, with both immediate and long term harm done to the body,” the doctor concludes.
Anna sneers.
“Too skinny?” Anna asks him through the TV. “Tell that to the doctors who called me me ‘morbildy obese.’”
Anna wanders into the kitchen. She opens the pantry then closes it. Opens the fridge then closes it. Then she opens the fridge again. Grabs carrots and dunks them straight into a jar of fat-free ranch, speed-eating.
Anna slurps down yogurt cups like shots and catches one of her Trimspa commercials on TV.
Black and white, it looks like a cheap bastardization of her iconic GUESS spots. Apparently SPA means SEXY, POWERFUL, ATTITUDE.
Anna finishes yet another yogurt as we hear her purr another original tagline on TV, “Be envied.”
Anna reaches for peanut butter and sticks her thumb in the jar when Howard barges into the kitchen. Caught red handed mid-binge.
“How are you doing?” Howard asks. He notices the yogurt and ranch all over her face.
“You’re a mess,” he says.
“See what happened when you fired Alexander?” Anna yells. “Now I have to make my own food.”
“I know why you’re upset,” Howard tells her. “But we did two seasons, we made Sundays on E!”
“Howard, I hate when you think you fucking know me so well,” Anna says. “I thought people could love me again if I wasn’t so fat, but now they’re still saying I’m crazy and pathetic.”
“Anna, don’t focus on that,” Howard consoles her. “Trimspa sales have boomed 172% since your campaigns began. You earned them about $30 million dollars this year and you create your own catch phrases, ok? You’ve got more money and more attention than you’ve had in a long time Anna, why can’t you just enjoy it?”
“Do you think I’m dumb Howard?” Anna asks firmly. “Really? You think I feel rich right now? I have no wealth, zero. If Trimspa is making more than they expected off me, I want a goddamn bonus.”
“Anna, can’t you just trust me?” Howard asks. “We’ve got some really important stuff simmering in LA and you know I’m flying to San Francisco to defend your case in federal court. That’s not enough for you?”
“Don’t remind me,” Anna says. “Marrying into money was not a good thing for me. Rich people are sick and maybe God just doesn’t want me to be like that.”
“Don’t say that,” Howard tells her. “Why shouldn’t you have money? You’re a generous person.”
“Nobody thinks I’m a good person,” Anna says.
He reads a text on his Blackberry.
“Are we still going to the Derby?” Anna demands his wandering attention.
“Yes, I told you, you’re still going to the charity ball and the race, just without E!’s cameras and minibar tab,” Howard explains. “You keep asking. When did you get obsessed with the Derby?”
Anna smiles, “I like the hats.”
Later, Anna sits in bed with her laptop and sets a Google alert for herself.
She clicks articles about herself and reads the user comments aloud, changing her voice to impersonate who she imagines each to be.
“She’s a crass pointless publicity whore, fat or thin.”
“Her waist size is still bigger than her IQ.”
“She keeps saying she’s back, like anyone missed her!”
“More like laxatives and coke, baby!”
Finally, Anna finds some good ones on a message board.
“She’s a better person now. Fat Anna bad. Thin Anna good. Fat Anna: hell. Thin Anna: heaven.”
“She’s one of few women who looks beautiful, fat or thin.”
“You go girl! We are so proud, you are our dream woman. ”
Anna looks for a Post-It in her jewelry drawer and then uses her cell phone to dial the number on it.
“Hello,” a man’s voice says with a southern twang.
“Is this Larry?” Anna asks.
He says yes.
“This is Anna Nicole,” Anna says. “We met at the Derby last year real qui---”
“Of course I remember you,” Larry interrupts. He’s out in the lush, green Kentucky countryside with a camera around his neck.
Alone in her closet, Anna beams.
“Are you gonna be in Kentucky for the Derby this year?” Anna asks.
“I’ve never missed a Derby,” Larry answers. “I’m a real Kentucky boy.”
“Well, since you know Louisville so well, I was thinking, maybe you could meet up with me a day or two before and help me get a real, nice hat,” Anna tells him. “I don’t wanna fly with a hat box.”
“Sure, I’d love that,” Larry replies. They can’t see one another’s smiles over the phone.
A limo drops Anna off in downtown Louisville, where Larry waits with pink roses for her.
“I’m back!” she tells Larry as she steps out of the car. She means back in Kentucky, but it sounds like yet another advertisement for her thinness.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Larry tells her, enamored.
We cut to them in a hat shop. An elderly milliner fits Anna in a giant, baby pink hat trimmed in puffy, pink tulle.
Larry watches her attentively with enamored eyes.
“Do you like it?” Anna asks Larry.
“I love it,” Larry answers.
“Hold on, I’m gonna take a picture in the front room and send it to Daniel,” Anna says.
She scurries to another part of the star. The milliner looks at Larry knowingly.
“What’s your secret?” he asks Larry, as if to ask, “What’s the secret to finding a beautiful lady?”
Larry laughs.
“I’m a praying man. I feel chosen,” Larry tells him. “I swear to God.”
Anna strolls back in and wraps her arms around Larry. She brings him in for a kiss.
The next day, Larry arrives at Anna’s hotel room before the Derby. Daniel greets him kindly.
“My mom’s still getting ready,” Daniel tells Larry. “You can sit.”
In the bedroom, Howard and Anna fight in whispers.
“A fucking photographer? Don’t be fooled by some paparazzo whose read about how horny you are,” Howard tells Anna.
“Larry’s not like that,” Anna whisper-screams. “We like each other. We’re friends.”
“Anna, I know you well enough to know you think you’re Barbie and he’s Ken,” Howard tells her scornfully.
“You really think I look like Barbie?” Anna smiles into the mirror.
Howard follows Anna into the bathroom and Anna drops her lipstick into the toilet amid all the hurry. She whimpers. Sad puppy eyes.
“I really need it Howard,” she tells him. “That’s the only one I have.”
Howard fishes his bare hand into the toilet until he recovers the lipstick.
At the Derby, Anna walks with Daniel and Howard at her sides. The derby is loud, the guests are drunk, and Anna loves the spectacle.
Larry trails behind. A woman with a huge hat bumps into Larry and he falls back from the group.
Anna stops and poses for photos with fans until he catches up. They clasp hands. This is what she wanted more than anything.
Just before the big race, Anna reaches behind to pull Larry closer to her, to the front of the spectator railing. She leans against the rail and poses for photos, feeling like a princess at a polo match. Once the race begins, she screams like crazy. Her incessant chatter breaks into “I WON, I WON, I WON!”
She throws her arms around Larry and they kiss as she shakes the winning bet in her hand.
At a nail salon back in the Valley, Anna, Kimmy and Howard get pedicures side-by-side.
“Do you need bigger clippers for Howard’s thick toenails?” Anna asks the manicurist (who laughs).
“Kimmy’s gonna be looking after you at camp, Anna,” Howard tells her. “I really wish I could be there.”
“No, you need to be in San Francisco getting us our money,” Anna says.
“That’s the plan,” Howard says.
“I’m gonna be busy with the birdies and the fishies and uhhhh the kids and the campfires,” Anna tells him excitedly.
“Are you two ready to go hike and all that? You have to pack good shoes you know,” Howard tells Anna and Kimmy.
“I don’t want to hike, I’m just there to look after Mama,” Kimmy says. (She’s gloomier and gloomier as her responsibilities become less and less.)
“I’ll be fine Kimmy,” Anna says. “Stay home if you hate the wilderness that much. I love being outside and animals and singing kumbaya my’lord, kumbaya.”
Anna keeps singing “kumbaya m’lord, kumbaya,” not shy in front of the other people getting their nails done. Kimmy and Howard roll their eyes at her.
“Oh what? You guys don’t like the lord? You’re ashamed? I’m not,” Anna yells. “I talk to the lord all the time. Thank you God. Keep us safe, God. I love you. Please God, give me a baby girl.”
“Mama, stop,” Kimmy says, embarrassed. “Stop.”
“You really think you could handle a baby?” Howard asks her.
“What’s that supposed to mean Howard?” Anna asks him.
“I mean, you’re a diet pill spokesperson,” Howard says. “I’ve never seen any pregnant people selling diet pills before.
“You’d have to get skinny again. Besides, you don’t even know the fucking guy.”
“Howard just shut up,” Anna says. “You’re mean. You know damn well I want a baby girl before Daniel grows up and leaves me.”
Kimmy bites her fingernails as a nail tech paints her toenails glossy black.
A few days later, Anna and Kimmy arrive at an outdoors camp in Nebraska. When a counselor hands Kimmy a key to her own cabin, Kimmy’s surprised.
“Aw, I thought we were stayin’ together Mama,” she tells Anna.
“No baby, my friend is coming out and visiting me so we need more space,” Anna tells her and slips into her own cabin. Kimmy looks pissed.
That evening, Anna sits in a water dunk booth and enjoys herself as the kids take turns throwing the ball to trigger the dunk tank. She laughs like crazy throughout, thrilled to be there playing.
After getting sent into the water a time or two, Anna gets back on her podium and notices who's there waiting his turn -- Larry Birkhead.
“You really wanna get me all wet?” Anna calls out. She nods her head to say “do it” and Larry successfully hits the target. Anna plunges down into the now dirty water in complete ecstasy.
The next morning, before the sun rises, a nervous Larry finds Anna outside with a large group of kids. It’s dark and early but she’s asking them tons of questions about their favorite colors, favorite flavors of ice cream and favorite games to play together. Watching her have so much puts him at ease. When Anna sees Larry, she throws her arms around him. One of the campers winks to another knowingly.
What follows is a picturesque hike through a forested valley. As the sun rises, the group gets further into the hike and Anna marvels at the beauty. Larry tells her he’s surprised this is what they’re doing together and Anna talks about how much she loves kids. Anna takes deep breaths of fresh air and comments on so much of the nature they see -- this flower, that flower, that bird, those trees.
At a particularly stunning peak, the group stops and admires the perfectly apricot sunrise. On their way back down to camp, Anna missteps and slides down a muddy hill. She shrieks and Larry lunges to stabilize her. Startled to find his arm around her waist and hand on her back, Anna melts into a state of relaxation she hasn’t felt in a long time. Or ever.
That night, Anna and Larry’s bodies intertwine in the cabin. The fire crackles and candles burn. They keep each other warm.
The next morning, Anna wakes up still enveloped by Larry’s arms. She enjoys where she is for just a minute before her cell phone rings. She wiggles out of his arms and reaches to grab it before it wakes Larry. She answers the call but throws on a huge sweatshirt and exits the cabin before actually bringing it to her ear.
We cut to Howard, of course, on the other line. He’s in a long coat on a cold, gray street outside a San Francisco courthouse, cigarette in hand.
“Are you there?” Howard asks. “Fuck.”
“Yes, I am, stop cursing at me,” Anna says to him over the phone from her cabin’s porch.
“Kimmy told me you have a guest,” Howard says.
“Howard, I thought you were calling about my case,” Anna says. “I’m not in the mood.”
“He’s a glorified paparazzo Anna,” Howard says. “Don’t be an idiot. And don’t sneak around.”
Anna hangs up on him. She sees Kimmy leaving her room for breakfast and calls out to her but Kimmy just smiles at her and keeps walking.
Anna’s phone rings again. She sees Howard but answers it anyway.
“I forgot to tell you,” Howard says. “Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie just signed to do their own reality show. We paved the way.”
“Really?” Anna asks. “What’s it called?”
“The Simple Life,” Howard says. “They’re leaving their mansions and going to the country.”
“So basically the opposite of me,” Anna says. “I wanna go back to the simple life.”
Later that day, Anna and Larry swim with the kids and counselors in a pristine lake. Anna holds on to Larry’s hands as they both plunge their entire bodies under the water.
On the plane ride home, Anna hides her tears from Kimmy as she cries over leaving Larry.
Back home, she calls out for Daniel but hears no reply. She rushes to his room, worried something is wrong. She flings his door wide open to reveal it’s almost entirely empty, aside from some posters still on the walls and clothes still on the floor. She sees the note he left on his whiteboard: “Moved to Ray’s.” Anna stands in quiet shock. Kimmy rounds the hallway and reads the note over Anna’s shoulder before she lets out a shrieking cry.
While Anna freaks out at home, Daniel sits in his car. He hears his phone ring, sees it's his mom and decides not to answer. He lights a cigarette and smokes out the window. The minute he sees she’s left a voicemail, he plays it on speaker.
“Hi pumpkin, it’s mom. Call me, ok? I love you. I just want to make sure you’re ok,” Anna says. “And remember, remember that book we used to read? I love you forever, I like you for always, my baby you’ll always be? Remember that Daniel. I love you forever, I like you for always, my baby you’ll always be. You have to take care of me when I’m old and gray just like I took care of you.”
Daniel can’t help but cry. He feels all of his mom’s pain but can’t carry it as well as her. As frustrated as he is with her, he would choose her to be his mother a million times over. It’s all too much for him. Fuck. He lights a new cigarette and turns up the screamo music in his car to rage.
Next thing you know, Larry is at Anna’s door with his suitcases, moving in. Anna jumps into his arms and they make out. Kimmy and Howard look on with disgust.
Anna and Larry savor life together as a couple. They date like teenagers: playing mini-golf at Castle Park, getting ice cream cones at Rite Aid, watching sunset from the top of the ferris wheel in Santa Monica.
In bed, they lay naked on top of each other. Not having sex. Not even kissing. Just being. Without clothes. Without pretense. Anna tells Larry he’s everything she asked God to send her in a man. Larry says he’s still pinching himself to see if this is all real.
Later, still lounging like it’s Sunday afternoon, Anna asks Larry if he wants kids. He describes how he’s always wanted to be a dad. Anna asks if she can show him something and when he agrees, she grabs an ornate pink box from under her bed.
“Open it,” Anna tells Larry. He removes the silk box top and picks up a pair of pink patent leather shoes, sized for an infant. Anna giggles. Larry looks into the box and sees its all clothing and accessories for a baby girl. Larry reacts to the cuteness with oohs and awws, genuine and cute.
“I’ve been collecting clothes for her for years,” Anna tells him, their blue eyes both sparkling as their souls speak. “I have pieces from all over the world.”
Larry kisses her. First, lips barely brush up against one another. The lightest caresses. Cheek to cheek. Anna sucks on Larry tongue like it's his dick, her eyes looking up to watch him react to each motion, and he then does the same back to her. Amid all of this inhibited eroticism, Larry takes Anna’s hand and holds it tightly with all five fingers. He throws her legs open with just enough force and begins going down on her.
“Relax,” Larry says.
Anna’s body melts deeper toward the earth and softens in every direction as he slowly, deliberately, playfully brings her orgasm. She’s in heaven.
We cut to the next morning. A breakfast scene. Anna and Larry enjoy their healthy omelettes. To everyone’s surprise, Alexander is back cooking. “To help me maintain,” Anna tells Larry. Howard sits glued to his Blackberry.
“Howard, why do you want to be here to rain on our parade if you’re not even gonna talk to us?” Anna asks Howard.
“That’s funny. I thought I was here managing your career and winning you a hundred million dollar case,” Howard tells Anna.
“88.9 million,” Anna tells Howard.
“And it’s still not officially mine,” Anna tells Larry. “When is my fucking settlement gonna be settled?”
“Soon,” Howard tells them both.
“Howard’s a great lawyer,” Anna tells Larry. “We’ve been in continuous litigation for 12 years.”
Howard looks at Anna like, “Please stop mocking me” but says nothing.
“I hope you’re taking good care of yourself with the Kanye video coming up,” Howard tells Anna, eager to change the subject.
“Whose Kanye?” Larry asks.
“A genius,” Anna tells him. “And he gave me a real acting role in his video with lines and everything, not just modeling.”
“She plays a trailer trash golddigger who just successfully lost a bunch of weight,” Howard tells Larry wryly. “You won’t have to do much to get into character.”
“Fuck you Howard,” Anna tells him.
“What time should I get you for the shoot Wednesday?” Howard asks Anna.
“That’s ok, I’ve got a ride,” Anna tells Howard.
“I’m going to that shoot with you Anna,” Howard tells Anna. “He’s on Jay-Z’s label. You know I love hip hop. I still want to find whoever shot Biggie Smalls.”
“Larry’s taking me,” Anna says.
When Wednesday comes, Larry drives Anna’s car to drop her off on set. She let Howard think Larry was going to chaperone her, but the truth is, she doesn’t need either there. She’s working.
On set, Anna tries on clothing in the wardrobe trailer and practices lines as Ella Mae from Mobile, Alabama -- “ultimate trophy wife.”
“My name is Ella Mae, from Mobile, Alabama, and I just wanna say since listening to Kanye’s workout tape, I been able to date outside the family, I got a double-wide, and I rode a plane,” Anna says. She slips on a white polo shirt and tennis skirt and the stylist pins it a bit.
“I think Alabama’s even worse to be from than Texas,” Anna tells the stylist. “It’s even farther from Hollywood.”
The entire video is conceptualized as a weight-loss ad, complete with a telephone number to call just like the Trimspa ads. As Ella Mae, Anna sits outside a trailer where her ex-husband drinks beer in the background. She improvises lines in an extra-thick Southern accent about how good her life is now, thanks to Kanye’s workout plan. When the director calls cut, Kanye congratulates her on those takes and they chat.
“When I lived alone in a trailer just like that, a ghost used to come in and you know….make love to me,” Anna tells Kanye. “And I didn’t mind one bit.”
“A ghost? I love how you’re smiling as you say it too, like you liked it,” Kanye tells Anna. “You’re a very creative person. Really. An artist.”
“No I’m not,” Anna tells him. “Stuff just happens to me.”
Inside the burgundy and yellow gymnasium set, Anna dances and advertises merch with the New Workout Plan art on it as Kanye performs to the camera.
When the director calls out “That’s a wrap on Anna,” the crew breaks out in applause. Anna nearly cries. She skips out of the set feeling beautiful and completely fulfilled.
That night, as Larry snores, Anna says her prayers aloud and thanks God for giving her a chance to act and do what she loves as an entertainer again. She asks God to protect Daniel and to bless her with a daughter. She prays everything goes well in federal court and that the case is done once and for all.
Weeks later, Anna and Larry hold hands at dinner on a Beverly Hills rooftop. Larry excuses himself to use the restroom and Anna flags the server to order a glass of champagne.
“Just one?” the server asks. Anna nods and smiles, giddy.
Larry returns and discovers the champagne awaiting him.
“Oh how nice,” Larry says. “Where’s yours beautiful?”
“Time for a toast! To you becoming a dad,” Anna tells him. “We’re having a baby.”
Larry leaps out of his chair and hugs her. He puts his hand on her heart, not her belly.
“I’m so happy,” Larry tells Anna. Tears fall down both of their faces.
In Florida, Anna Nicole shoots a Trimspa commercial. She emerges from the ocean in a wet suit and says, “Want to step into my reality? Enter to win Trimspa’s Million Dollar Makeover Challenge.”
Next up, she shoots with a small crew in front of the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, Anna shimmies in a champagne colored halter top and speaks to the camera.
“Want to play? Come play at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino,” Anna says. Then she begins a long take saying her various taglines in as many ways as possible.
“Like my body? Like my body? Like my body?” Anna asks. “Trimspa baby! Trimspa baby… Trimspa bayyyyybeee.”
This last set up will become the last frame of the commercial -- Anna in front of the Hard Rock logo with her hands in the air exclaiming “Trimspa Baby!”
This is the hotel Anna will die at. More on that soon.
Back in LA, Anna wakes up Larry in rage and accuses him of throwing away her pills while she was working. Larry is shocked and confused. He says he didn’t throw anything away or touch any of her stuff yesterday. Anna distrusts him and threatens to look at yesterday’s security camera footage. Anna screams at Larry, a first he hates, but he doesn’t scream back.
“I need my pills, they're like supplements,” Anna tells Larry. “Like from the vitamin store or whatever.”
“I’m no medical professional,” Larry tells her. “But no matter what you’ve got going on, I don’t think you should think of methadone as a vitamin.”
Anna marches off to get the footage. “I’m going to see who's telling the truth,” Anna tells him.
Watching the security tape on TV, Anna and Larry see Daniel enter the house with his keys and take a huge bottle of methadone from her bedroom drawer and leave with it. Anna can’t summon the nerve to look Larry in the eye but quickly mutters a defense for Daniel.
“He’s probably gonna go throw that away at home or flush it down his toilet,” Anna says.
Larry trusts her blindly.
A few weeks later, Anna and Larry cuddle on the couch and watch TV. Anna springs toward the kitchen and Larry asks if she’s going to make popcorn.
“Hehe, no, but I’ll make some for you,” Anna says.
She throws the popcorn into the microwave and heads to the bathroom to pee while it pops. She pulls down her underwear, she sees blood everywhere.
She moves to the sink, scrubbing blood out from underneath her French-tip manicure, devastated.
Anna heads back into the kitchen and Larry calls out, “Have you told Daniel about the baby yet? I really want him to know already.”
Anna begins to sob as she aggressively throws the instant popcorn into the microwave.
“I just got my period,” Anna tells him, collapsing with disappointment. “My baby’s in my damn panties right now.”
Larry rushes to hold her.
“I’m so sorry baby. Everything’s gonna be ok,” he assures her. “We’ll try again.”
The next day, as Anna sleeps in a deep depression nap, Larry can’t help but pick up a basket of pills at her bedside and read the labels of 30+ bottles. He recognizes the pharmacies and doctors, but not “Michelle Chase” and the names on the labels. His eyes fall to the chest of baby clothes stashed under the bed and he winces, unable to prevent himself from wondering…
A few weeks later, Anna convulses in a seizure next to a sleeping Larry. He springs up and tries to wake her. Her body remains stiff except for when it spasms suddenly, violently.
He rushes to the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth for her forehead. No response. He pets her, kisses her, shakes her and begs her to wake up but she doesn’t. Larry prays aloud, worried she’s dying. He carries her to the bathroom Pieta style and dangles her feet into the tub.
Finally, she comes to his arms. Larry expresses his relief but not for long. Anna refuses to go to the hospital. She tells him too many paparazzi will see.
“Let me go back to sleep,” she begs. “I have these pills for this very reason, to help with this,” Anna lies. Larry agrees. He fears upsetting her will cause more harm. He lies awake as she snores.
Hours later, Howard shows up at the house with coffees for everybody -- including Larry. Unfortunately, Larry and Anna are too distracted to celebrate this little sign of acceptance. Howard shouts for Kimmy and she comes and collects her Frappuccino before she retreats back to her room.
“At least I’m not the rudest one to you,” Howard jokes to Larry.
“I was gonna ask her for some help last night actually,” Larry says. “But I felt bad and didn’t know what to do. Anna….uh, Anna’s not well. I don’t think she’s gonna be able to work today.”
“What?” Howard asks curtly.
Before Larry can explain anymore, Anna strolls out of the bedroom and grabs her coffee from the tray.
“Hi my boys,” she coos, kissing Larry and hugging Howard.
“Did you memorize your lines?” Howard asks Anna. “I know you hate teleprompters.”
“How are you feeling?” Larry asks. He can’t believe she’s acting like everything’s ok.
“Don’t be nervous,” Howard instructs before Larry can answer. “This is the American Music Awards. The whole country is going to be watching you, seeing how great you look.”
Anna nods and smiles.
Howard’s phone rings.
“Let me take this outside,” he says and grabs a cig to bring with him.
When the coast is clear, Larry wraps his arms around Anna tight.
“You don’t have to do this baby, you can rest today,” Larry says sweetly and kisses her head, concerned. More than concerned...traumatized by their experience just a few hours ago.
Anna pushes him away. He feels her distance.
“I’m fine,” she tells him.
“It’s just that you’ve been through a lot lately,” Larry says. “I want to make sure you’re ok.”
“I’m used to it,” Anna tells him.
We cut to later that night on the American Music Award red carpet. Trimspa has Anna feeling like a rockstar. Her glamour girl poses are peppered with frantic, wild energy and caricature-like poses -- surprised, confused, seductive. For some photos, she bends her torso toward the photographers to highlight her thick chain necklace with TRIMSPA spelled out in diamonds.
Backstage, Howard can’t help but ask if she wants to brush her hair before she goes on stage.
“Brush my hair? It’s an updo Howard, you don’t brush an updo,” she snarls.
“I’m just looking out for you,” Howard tells her.
“Don’t be a fucking idiot when I’m about to go on live TV,” Anna warns him.
Larry, wearing a suit lent to him by Howard, looks on with quiet horror. He loves her too much to go anywhere.
Showtime! A stage manager grabs Anna to escort her to her mark. They’re just a minute away. Anna prays. First to God. Then to Marilyn. She feels like she’s about to kill this shit. A light blinks and a producer points and she’s off.
Anna takes the stage alone at the American Music Awards at the Shrine Auditorium in DTLA. She focuses on flaunting her body, still rejoicing in sharing her weight loss success story. She feels weightless as she walks out, arms swaying in the air, until she gets so dizzy she can’t feel her feet. Relieved to get to the podium fast, Anna rests a palm on it to steady herself. She traces her body up and down to accentuate her snatched silhouette.
“Like my body?” Anna asks. She runs finger underneath the Trimspa necklace.
“I was honored to be in our next performer’s new video…. And if I ever record an album, I want this guy to produce mine,” she slurs. “Make a beautiful duet!”
The audience laughs with her.
“Cuz he’s a freakin’ genius,” she exaggerates, leaning back with her arms out as if she’s summoning God.
She claps her hands over her head a few times. Super weird. It’s unclear whether she’s gonna speak more as the cameras hold on her awkward claps. The orchestra plays “The New Workout Plan” and Kanye, a relatively new artist, takes the stage. Anna keeps clapping.
Larry practically carries Anna out of the Shrine, bolstering up against his side body to most effectively make it seem like she can walk on her own. Paparazzi capture every second of their walk to the car. Howard waits outside the limo as Anna and Larry get in.
A pap calls out for Howard by name and begs for the scoop. Howard shouts over the camera clicks: “Anna is in serious pain after a series of grueling workouts.”
The next morning, Anna wakes up once again as America’s punchline. The minute she opens her eyes, the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her something bad happened. She turns on the TV as soon as she wakes up and screams until Kimmy brings her a laptop so she can Google herself.
In this moment, Anna realizes how short lived her victory lap was. How short a redemption tour can be.
She’s the laughing stock of the country again and all the entertainment news hosts and bloggers are blaming drugs and alcohol.
“How could God let this happen?” Anna asks Kimmy. “After everything I did to get skinny? I’m right back to where I was, the brunt of their fucking jokes.”
Anna lets Kimmy stay there with her for a while, wanting someone to fill her in on exactly what people on TV saw, but then asks Kimmy to leave and lock the door on her way out.
“I don’t want to be with no one today,” Anna announces.
Later, in the living room, Howard storms in and asks for Anna. Larry tells him she’s not seeing anybody. Howard tells Larry they have to talk because so much business is coming in after last night.
“She’s everywhere,” Howard tells Larry. “They’re saying she’s viral.”
“Like sick?” Larry asks, confused and disturbed.
“No like, hot,” Howard says, annoyed. “This could be good, seriously. The whole world is watching her right now. A lot of people are gonna want a piece of that. MTV already wants her for their next award show, in Australia.”
Larry fails to hide the horror on his face.
Meanwhile, Anna looks at herself in the bedroom mirror. She may be skinny, but she knows she looks like shit --- severe, puffy, tired.
Without all the glamour, the life she’s lived shows on her face now more than ever. Anna looks under the bed and gets out the box of baby girl clothes. She picks a couple garments up one at a time, first silk then faux fur, and rubs them against her cheek. She holds a baby’s dress out in front of her as if she’s seeing how it would look on her. She delights in the sensory distraction of these beautiful baby outfits until she lets the real emotion overtake her and collapses onto the floor in pain, kicking and screaming in agony as she clutches a little pink dress.
We cut to Anna a few weeks later. She sits in front of her Christmas tree as Howard breaks the news to her. More bad news. She suffers again, but this time paralyzed by the gravity of it all. Instead of expressing, she goes quiet, which scares Howard even more. The less she talks, the more he does. Some of the worst moments from these years of litigation swirl around her mind.
“It’s all because of the probate exception, like I tried to explain to you. The 9th district in San Francisco is a federal court. They don’t believe they have the jurisdiction to award you the money because way back when, that fucking judge in Houston decided Pierce was the sole heir. So even if they think Pierce is guilty, which he is because of tortious interference, they believe they have to respect the ruling in Houston because of the probate exception. Basically, when it comes to estates, the feds suck state court dick,” Howard explains. “That’s the probate exception. I’m really sorry Anna. We’re back to square one.”
“Easy come, easy go,” Anna tells Howard. “89 million was already nothing compared to what he wanted me to have.”
“That number is void now too, everything is,” Howard says. “Square fucking one nine years later.”
“It just doesn’t make sense. Being this skinny and this broke?,” Anna says. “I thought if I lost the weight, God would reward me with my settlement.”
“At least you have Trimspa,” Howard tells Anna.
“Yeah and they pay pennies compared to what they’ve made off me,” she snaps. “And my words.”
Howard rubs Anna’s shoulders.
“There is one last thing I can try...” Howard says. “It’s a long shot.”
SIX MONTHS LATER
Inside Anna’s B-movie trailer in Canada, Daniel lays on Anna’s couch as she gets ready.
“The director says he can’t even insure this movie because of you,” Daniel tells Anna.
“Yeah, well if anyone watches it it will be because of me too,” Anna says.
“I don’t want to spend my whole life chasing paychecks,” Daniel tells Anna.
“Hopefully I am so you don’t have to,” Anna tells him. “You can be anything you want to be. Anything. But I think you’d be a great filmmaker. So everyone can see the world the way you see it. And so you can give me good parts in your movies. Good movies. Not horseshit like this.”
Daniel nods in agreement.
“It’s been a wild ride so far,” Daniel tells his mom.
“It sure as hell has been pumpkin,” Anna laughs. Daniel laughs. She shakes off the chills she gets from this kind of existential conversation -- a mixture of shame and pride about herself as a mother. Daniel takes her hand. Just a mommy and her only baby, and a baby who feels like a parent a lot of the time. They soak in one another’s love, the infiniteness of it.
Howard bursts in hastily. He trips on the narrow steps into the trailer.
“They said yes!” Howard shouts as the door swings open. “The SUPREME COURT said YES!”
Anna unclasps her hand from Daniels and throws it in the air.
“They accepted our case?” she asks.
Howard yells, “Yes!!!!”
A production assistant comes in and whispers for Howard to be quiet as they’re rolling on set.
“So the Supreme Court is gonna decide if you get any money?” Daniel asks Anna.
“No,” Howard whispers. “They’re going to decide whether the judges in Texas or California should have the final say about the estate.”
“What a shit show,” Daniel sighs.
Howard continues to whispers as he reads off his phone, “Here’s the New York Times Headline:
‘9 JUSTICES, 2 LAWS AND A PLAYMATE.’ How good does that sound?
This was our Hail Mary move and it fucking worked. This means “Marshall vs. Marshall” is not over.”
Anna lifts her leg and we see the big Virgin Mary tattoo on her leg.
“Thank you Mary,” Anna says. “Thank you Howard.”
“The Supreme Court,” Howard repeats. Like a pig in shit.
OUTRAGEOUS: THE ANNA NICOLE SMITH STORY