Chapter 88: Shameless Bastards

There will be another chapter after midnight. Yes, that's it.

Sitting in a second-floor booth, Murphy clinked glasses with Jonah Hill, downing a large beer. Listening to the music playing, he turned to look down at the open space below, where the dance floor was. In the center, four topless, sexy women of various skin tones were performing a sizzling pole dance.

"Cheers!"

James Franco raised his glass, and the others followed suit, chugging down another large beer. In less than half an hour at the club, the four had already downed several rounds of beer. The alcohol, combined with the atmosphere, quickly bridged any gaps between them. Even the relatively unfamiliar Jonah Hill became chummy with Murphy, often cracking risqué jokes.

They were of similar age, all at the bottom rung of their industry, striving to move forward. These shared traits, if not making them kindred spirits, at least brought them closer together.

Murphy was calm and steady, James Franco eccentric, Seth Rogen scatterbrained, and Jonah Hill lively and lewd...

"Seth once told me..."

Setting his glass down, Jonah Hill, slurring slightly, started fabricating, "On his family farm in Canada, there was a pig that wouldn't mate. To convince it, he slept in the barn with that pig for a week."

He slapped his thigh, laughing, "And it was a male pig!"

"Screw your male pig!" Murphy, also tipsy, had come here to relax and had long shed his reservations. He grabbed a bottle and filled everyone's glasses. His rugged face was flushed red. Raising his glass, he loudly said to Seth Rogen, "To the pig you slept with, cheers!"

James Franco chimed in, "To the pig, cheers!"

Seth Rogen downed his entire glass in one gulp, slammed it on the table, then pointed at Murphy, James Franco, and Jonah Hill one by one, loudly saying, "You bastards, picking on me because I'm honest? Let me tell you..."

He hiccuped and pounded his chest, "I... Seth Rogen, there's nothing I wouldn't do, not even a pig!"

"Blowhard!" Jonah Hill sneered, and James Franco smirked, "Did you really sleep with a pig?"

Murphy laughed heartily, pounding the table. Seth Rogen, chin up, looked like he had done it all.

"Alright, alright!" Murphy, half-drunk, turned to the dancers, randomly pointing at one, "Seth, if you kiss her foot, I'll believe you've done more than just a pig, maybe cows and sheep too!"

Jonah Hill and James Franco egged him on, "Yeah, yeah! Seth, show us your courage, even with a pig!"

Without a word, Seth Rogen stood up, grabbed a beer, chugged it down, and wiped his mouth, "Is there anything Seth Rogen won't do?"

He looked at Murphy, "And if I do?"

"I..." Murphy, his head swirling from the alcohol, said, "I'll believe you've done more than just pigs, even cows and sheep!"

He then turned to James Franco, "If you dare kiss the dancer's foot, Jim will French kiss Jonah!"

All four were already quite drunk. James Franco and Jonah Hill didn't protest; instead, they slapped the table and loudly agreed, "Yes, exactly!"

Seth Rogen didn't hesitate. He leaped from the booth and ran downstairs, finding the dancer Murphy had pointed at. He pulled out some cash and slipped it into her lingerie, whispered a few words, and the dancer obligingly extended her foot. Seth Rogen bent down and kissed it.

"Wow..."

James Franco and Jonah Hill clapped enthusiastically while Murphy cheered loudly. A chorus of jeers and laughter erupted from downstairs.

Amidst the raucous applause, Seth Rogen strutted back like a hero.

"That woman's foot hasn't been washed in a week, has it?" He picked up a beer, rinsed his mouth, and spat into a trash can, complaining, "I almost died from the stench! It was terrible..."

He turned to James Franco and Jonah Hill.

The two acted as if they didn't notice Seth Rogen's return. Jonah Hill picked up an empty beer bottle, using it as a microphone, and in a mock interview tone asked, "Mr. James Franco, Oscar-winning actor, how did you embark on this artistic path?"

"It was a very, very romantic experience..."

James Franco squinted, seemingly lost in his own fabricated story, "My mom was a writer, and she met my dad at an art school. They were both painters, so art was always around me. I think these things were always in my consciousness, even before I truly engaged with them. One reason I didn't pursue them until I was fourteen might have been fear—fear of being too brilliant, too dazzling... Until a few years ago, I watched Titanic and wondered why a man not as handsome as I could become a global star. I thought I could do better."

Murphy pointed at James Franco, his other hand on the table, laughing so hard he could barely stay upright.

"All lies!" Seth Rogen harshly revealed, "You told me just the other day you entered this industry because being a star is glamorous, pays well, and attracts many adoring girls."

He emphasized, "Especially underage girls!"

"Oh..." Jonah Hill pointed at James Franco, "So you really fancy Lily!"

At this level of drunkenness, James Franco didn't deny it, "Lily is just for looking at."

Murphy leaned closer, covering his mouth with his hand, and in a tone meant for Jonah Hill and Seth Rogen to hear, asked, "How many girls under sixteen have you been with?"

"Spit it out!" Jonah Hill flipped the beer bottle, pointing its base at James Franco, "If you don't tell the truth, I'll shove your head up your ass!"

Seth Rogen also glared menacingly at James Franco.

"Uh..." James Franco slowly held up three fingers, "They were all willing."

Murphy and the others burst into laughter, raising their glasses again, "To James!"

Putting down his glass, Seth Rogen suddenly remembered and shouted at James Franco and Jonah Hill, "You shameless bastards, where's your French kiss?"

Murphy joined in, "Seth, make them kiss in a special way!"