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“Ain’t no party like a Joe Gage party, ’cause a Joe Gage party don’t stop!”
“Some of the things that I’ve always liked about director Joe Gage are the authenticity of the performers and the settings of his productions. And, true to form, this one is cast and stage-set to perfection.
The man behind some of the best blue movies ever — he set a host of standards for gay fuck films which have been copied, imitated, but never improved upon, over the years since his debut in the 1970s. His technique of his early films remains thrillingly the same.” —Butch Harris, ManNet
GRANT BLALOCK, wearing a NRTC uniform and carrying a duffle bag and a navy coat over his arm, appears at the door leading to the bedroom and sees–
INT – BEDROOM
SULLY is carrying a high-end leather jacket out of the walk-in closet.
SULLY
Hey, Ret, look what I found–
Sully looks up and sees Grant.
SULLY
Oh.
The two men eye one another and a moment passes between them.
GRANT
Are… you a friend of Toby’s?
Sully pauses.
SULLY
Yeah.
GRANT
Ah…
Grant nods.
GRANT
You from down in town?
SULLY
(playing for time)
Uh, yeah…
GRANT
Where is he?
SULLY
Who?
GRANT
Toby.
SULLY
Uh, I don’t know. He’s around
here somewhere.
GRANT
Who’s Ret?
SULLY
A…friend. Of…Toby’s.
GRANT
Old pals, huh?
SULLY
Uh huh.
GRANT
So you know him pretty well.
SULLY
Yeah.
GRANT
So how come you’re in my room?
Sully remains silent.
Grant notices what Sully is wearing.
GRANT
Aren’t those my pants?
SULLY
Uh, yeah, I was just—
GRANT
Take ‘em off, dude.
Sully eyes Grant and changes tactics.
SULLY
A lotta guys down in town talk
about Toby, you know that?
GRANT
Oh yeah?
SULLY
Yeah. You know about Toby,
don’t you? Are you like him,
navy guy?
Sully gropes Grant’s crotch.
SULLY
Why don’t you take your pants off?
GRANT
Cut it out.
SULLY
I can’t help it. I’m horny.
Sully sticks his hand down his own pants and eyes Grant as he brings his fingers up to his face and inhales
SULLY
You horny too?
GRANT
What if I am?
SULLY
Come on.
Sully slowly runs his hand across the front of Grant’s uniform trousers.
GRANT
(exhales)
Okay.
Grant and Sully slowly strip off their trousers, and stand facing one another, their erections sticking out of their undershorts.
Sully shoves his hand into his crotch again, pulls it out and places it under Grant’s nose.
SULLY
Want some of this?
Grant closes his eyes and slowly inhales.
SULLY
That’s what I thought…
“With his signature style, director Joe Gage blends suspense, sex and story perfectly to create a thriller that is compelling from beginning to end.” —Martin Cox, ManNet
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“It’s raining as I type, not a cold stinging seasonal rain but a clammy, soupy rain that only says Christmas if you’re stuck outside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again. I don’t recall a Christmas with this much premonitory overhang. Usually after a tough year you hang your hopes on a better one to come, but nearly every other economic and media forecaster predicts that 2009 will be worse than 2008, that the pain train has barely left the station. No one is anticipating 2009 to be an up year; we’re all flattening ourselves against the wall and making ourselves inconspicuous, hoping it leaves us relatively unscathed. And yet I listen to the Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, and Jack Benny Christmas specials on Sirius Radio Classics, broadcast and taped during the daunting depths of WWII, and the tone of those shows is unbombastically upbeat, confident, and determined, a cool reprimand to gloom-mongering and self-pity prevailing today. It may have been a studied pose borne of necessity, but it’s worn well, and the songbirding of Peggy Lee, Rosemary Clooney, and Doris Day is what vanilla frosting would sound like with lyrics by Johnny Mercer. Merry Christmas, and on with the show.” –James Wolcott
Happy New Year
