Freddy Deadbeat leaned forward into his microphone, his huge shades covering his eyes; he had long curly dark hair and a thick moustache that made him look like a seventies cliché.
He was a late night radio host and spoke in a New York accent to the thousands listening, and most of them never asked if he really was American.
The truth was, he was from Bristol and he never advertised the fact; he had an image to keep up in order to get the girls, after all.
The show was low on listeners so management had turned to controversial guests to boost the figures a little.
Freddy was desperate to get it going so he could play music and leave the building for a cigarette.
“Good evening, all you cats out there. Tonight we have two guests who are here to slug it out on the air: Angie and Rebecca! Welcome to the show, ladies!”
Angie had dark straight shoulder-length hair, was of petite build and had large breasts that spilled out of a tight vest top. Her leather mini skirt was virtually non-existent, with two immaculate legs protruding from it.
The two women nodded at the presenter through the thick glass partition; they could barely make him out in the dark studio but he was larger than life in their headphones.
Then they realized that they had to reply through the microphones in front of them.
“Good evening!” they said in unison.
“Angie, you have a doctorate in metaphysics and scored high marks – so why did you become a porn star?” said the almost hidden figure in the adjacent room.
“Well, it pays well and the hours are not too long. And I get to fuck lots of really hot men and women.”
“Whoa!” yelled Freddy, “No bad language on the air, please! Sorry, listeners!”
Angie gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry guys!” she said through gritted teeth.
Freddy continued, “So how did you get into it in the first place?”
“I was short of money when I was studying and a photographer approached me. He got me lots of work and it just seemed to progress into low-budget porno and then to where I am now!” She had a quiet voice and a smile that could melt chocolate at ten paces.
The other woman was a stark contrast to her.
“So, Rebecca, you are a lawyer and a campaigner against pornography. What do you think of Angie’s profession?”
Rebecca had short blonde hair and was dressed very conservatively. She was thick-set and tall with a look about her that would make a headmaster shrink.
“I think she’s trash and a victim of exploitation in modern society!” Her expression never changed on her chiseled features.
Angie spoke up quickly. “Modern society? But pornography has been around for thousands of years! Look at the pots found that were produced by the Egyptians. Since the camera first captured a still or moving image, it has been used to produce nudity and sexual imagery – pornography!”
Rebecca suddenly realized that she was not up against some dumb bimbo and it infuriated her. “Men use these women like pieces of meat for their own enjoyment!”
“But most of my movies are written, produced and filmed by women!” She pointed up to the air conditioning unit in the ceiling. “Look! There goes another of your pointless theories, and you a lawyer? Listen, honey – I fuck people for money and you fuck people for money so that makes us even, right?”
The veins on Rebecca’s fore head were beginning to show as she scowled at Angie.
“This isn’t the eighteenth century anymore, so do us all a favor and get yourself laid once in a while. A good orgasm now and again will lower your blood pressure.” Angie wore a smug look on her face.
Freddy was lapping it all up, for this was quality radio: Beauty and the Beast, and the Beast was losing!
You could almost feel the rumble as Rebecca’s blood boiled.
There was an awkward silence in the room, so Freddy decided to break it. “Okay, let’s take a break for some music now. Catch you cats in just a minute, so do not touch that dial!” And finally he put a music track on.
“I’m out of here. I need the toilet,” said Angie as she stood up and clicked across the room in her high heels.
Rebecca looked her up and down contemptuously as she left.
“. . . Oh, yes, and you should have seen the look on the frigid bitch’s face! Anyway, I’d better get back before the track finishes. Ciao!” Angie’s mobile phone blipped as she closed it and she stood up in the small toilet cubicle.