By Michael E. Miller
By Allie Conti
By David Villano
By Jose D. Duran
By Michael E. Miller
By Allie Conti
By Kyle Swenson
By Luther Campbell
"I played softball at the same complex as Scott and the guitarist. He made some crack about our team sucking and I gave him back a little taste of his own medicine, something like öyou taught us how.' I guess since he was playing in his [South Florida] hometown and surrounded by friends and groupies, he was very surprised anybody would dare to say something to him.
"He flew off the handle, jumped in my face, and blah-blah-blah. I took the bait and enjoyed the guilty typical macho-man pleasure of escalating things by responding to his every comment with another cut-down. I kept pushing his buttons, hoping he would swing. I didn't care if we fought or not as long as I had a witness saying I didn't start it. It ended with me saying, öShut up and sit down Napoleon.' His friends eventually dragged him away.
"For the next several weeks, Scott, the guitar player, and their drones would all walk by and make throat-slashing gestures and say stuff about how I had better have a good dentist. Lots of threats and dirty looks. People going out of their way to let me know öit's on.'
"One of the umpires heard this stuff, told a beat cop who patrolled the park, and when asked about it I told her öYeah, they threatened me,' and she wrote up a report. I didn't think they were serious but it shut their damn mouths pretty quickly after the cop interviewed them about it. Should I sell my story to ET?"
Nuckols was hoping to catch a glimpse of Stapp amid the crowds on hand in Miami for the Video Music Awards events this week culminating in the awards show itself on Sunday. However, both men are too busy. Stapp wouldn't answer any more questions from The Bitch, sending word through his way-casual publicist Steve Karas that "Scott is in the studio so it [the interview] is not going to happen for next week."
So Stapp is just too busy being successful to hobnob with the minor superstars at the VMAs? "He [Stapp] has definitely checked out," Karas assures.
Nuckols, meanwhile, ever the volunteer, is getting power turned back on for Florida residents afflicted by Hurricane Charley.
"I'm stuck out here in dadgummed Sebring helping provide support and logistics to restore power to these crackers. It's like a vacation ... to a prison," says Nuckols, who clearly should submit regular items for this column.
The Perfect Song, a feature film by producer-director-actor-electric guitarist Billy Yeager -- the 48-year-old enfant terrible of South Florida cinema -- is reportedly due out soon. National critics ignored Yeager's "self-made" first film, the documentary Jimmy's Story, which was based on his own life and took 30 years to make. But now, according to promotional materials obtained by The Bitch, Yeager has "what he says is nothing less than the world's greatest film and wouldn't waste his time if he didn't."
Yeager not only produced and directed The Perfect Song (his aunt Bunny Yeager, the fabled Betty Page photographer, is co-producing), but also handled all the casting and scouted more than 60 locations, including the Coral Castle and the Everglades. But what really separates Yeager from other Florida directors (who, in the filmmaker's words, "should be fucked up the ass by a pig") "is that when it came time for someone to play the role of Lloyd, Billy decided that he would do it," the release reveals. Yeager "gained 25 pounds and shaved his head" to play Lloyd, "the mad genius composer" who is obsessed with writing the perfect song.
Here's a glimpse of the plot: "The music is so strong that Lloyd is composing that it makes its way into the nightclub and lures April into her car, driving, following the music in the wind to Lloyd, who is performing his music live at a Jerry Springer type of bar known as The Lizard Bar in Lake Worth. [In] their first encounter she walks up to tell Lloyd she likes the music, except Lloyd's back is turned and he is upset, cussing, and tells her to fuck off."
But in any Yeager project, the story behind the story is usually just as compelling as the story. In this regard, the promotional material speaks for itself: "At first he wanted the Renee Zellwegger-type (sic) potato girl from Iowa. But then he saw an Old French film in black and white with sexy looking models with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. He thought, öHey, I've never seen that. Sure, every director looks for that certain character [but] they never cast a model. I mean a real model. I couldn't think of one film with that, so that's what I did, I casted [sic] not just a model but I wanted a six-foot-tall runway model.' When Billy called all the major agencies in South Beach, their enthusiasm and cooperation was beyond his imagination. After all, how often would a director call for a runway model ... for a lead role in a film. Then Billy rewrote the script for the model.