ABSTRACT
Last night I met with a girl named Fay. Very eager to get into the Industry but knows absolutely nothing about it. My first duty to society and to the Industry is to try to scare her out of the Industry. [Bill is a devilish-good recruiter. By honestly stressing the risks to would-be porn-queens, he not only protects the most vulnerable ones but also gets them out of his hair. (Fay, you will see, is an example). But those who are not put off and whose heat-histrionic hysteria predicts they are with him select themselves as recruits for his war against society, waged via porn.] I hit her with everything I had. “Your parents will find out, what if your kids [in the future] …” She is one of these earth-mother types, big breasts, which I’m not particularly in favor of because I like tomboys; but she’s nice. She needs a haircut. In fact, I’m going to have her go to my barber on Tuesday, before I take her to the screening to introduce her to the world, and get her hair fixed up. Her hair looks like it fell into a lawn mower. It’s sticking out all over the place, and I don’t like that. I love hair. I like hair and teeth. Clean hair, clean, happy hair and perfect teeth are things … I look at them likes horses. If they have a good mane and their 82teeth are in good shape, it’s one more point for me. I check those things out. Also I like them clean. I checked her out. She was very healthy.
