Elimination Night - By Anonymous Page 0,15

people take a look at Bibi’s books. Among the excesses uncovered: a full-time employee whose sole task was to switch on Teddy’s iPhone. (Teddy had never quite mastered technology.) Meanwhile, Bibi and Logan made inevitable plans to wed. He bought her a ten million dollar ring and a Siberian tiger in a cage. She bought him a private island and helicopter by which to get there. Then she recorded a song, “Bibi from the Hood,” the gist of the lyrics being: a) she was richer than God, and b) she was still a down-to-earth girl from Middle Village, Queens. Clearly, no one had thought to point out to her that writing a song expressing point a somewhat invalidated point b.

Then came Bibi and Logan’s first movie together, Jinky, which one critic summed up by praising its ability to “take the sexiest, most closely watched celebrity couple in the universe, remove all their chemistry, and make you want to stab yourself in the neck with a rusty fork for no other reason than to relieve the boredom.” Jinky made $400.25 on the Friday it opened in a few dozen theaters. Its costars had called off their wedding by the following weekend.

Thus began the most recent—and troubled—stage of Bibi’s career, which this time I did have to Google, largely because of the press’s waning interest in her affairs.

Her nail salons filed for bankruptcy. The company that Teddy had outsourced to manufacture her branded massage wands was found to be employing six-year-old girls in China. And try as she might, she just couldn’t recover from Jinky. Her follow-up movies bombed. Her albums didn’t sell. Even her fashion sense was mocked: “Bibi’s acrylic bedsheet,” was how the Style section of the New York Chronicle described her eccentrically dimensioned Oscars dress that year. (Teddy had previously selected all her outfits.) Exhausted, Bibi took a break to get married, again, this time to her teenage sweetheart Edouard Julius, the actor, trapeze artist, and former Olympic show jumper. To everyone’s surprise, it lasted more than a week. They even had children together: quadruplets, in fact. Hence, Bibi became “Mama B.” But her career was in worse shape than ever. A low point was duly reached when her comeback single, “I Wanna Rock (Any Diamond Will Do),” was released with spectacular insensitivity only a week after the Great Recession began, just as millions of her fans were being laid off and/or foreclosed upon. Worse: During a performance of the song at the Cool Beatz Video Awards, Bibi climbed up on the backs of twelve oiled and loin-clothed male dancers, broke a stiletto, and fell backward onto a giant projection screen.

“NEEDY DIVA WANTS A ROCK—BUT TAKES A KNOCK!” gloated ShowBiz.

A handwritten note from Teddy was delivered to Bibi’s suite at the Four Seasons that same morning. (I discovered this among the exhibits in a lawsuit filed between them, along with transcripts of several emotional telephone conversations.)

It read:

B,

I am your family.

I am your best friend.

Let me adore you.

Forever,

T.

Ten minutes later, Teddy was once again getting ten percent of everything Bibi earned (expenses not included). His first piece of advice? “Take the call from Ed at Rabbit. Be a judge on Project Icon. Your fans will see your humanity, your tears, your compassion. Plus, it’s a fuckload of money, with endorsements up the wazoo.”

Bibi agreed.

But Teddy didn’t go the easy route. Of course he didn’t. Instead of calling Ed Rossitto, he leaked a story to ShowBiz “revealing” that Bibi was in talks with Nigel Crowther to join the judging panel of The Talent Machine. Then he quickly issued an official denial, saying, “At this time, Bibi Vasquez is focused only on her family.” All this was enough to prompt a second call from Rossitto, who by now was wondering if things were going on at Rabbit that he didn’t even know about. An increasingly strained back-and-forth ensued, culminating in one of Teddy’s assistants finally delivering a list of “Artist Requirements” to The Lot:

Artist to be paid sixty million dollars a year.

Artist to be provided with customized, four-thousand-square-foot dressing compound to accommodate hair, make-up, and wardrobe personnel.

Artist’s body to be insured with one billion dollar policy in case of injury. (Breasts/buttocks to be valued at one hundred million dollars each.)

No fewer than five promotional Artist videos to be broadcast by Network.

Network to offer promotional-rate advertising deal to Bibi Beautiful Cosmetics.

Crew to be forbidden to make eye contact with Artist (and Manager) AT ALL TIMES.

Artist to be provided with chauffeur-driven limo for duration