Cooper Brown: The Groucho
I’ve had to move out of Cooperdome. The floor eventually collapsed under the weight of leaking water. The good news was that the useless plumber was in the flat at the time and suffered severe concussion as he fell through to the floor below.
This means it’s unlikely I will have to pay the extraordinary work of fiction that was his bill. I have temporarily moved into the Groucho - this is always a very bad move as it guarantees late nights and very bad behaviour. I meet Victoria for lunch to explain my new existence and she is not happy. She’s having strong chick issues at the moment and we end up having a screaming row in Yo Sushi.
If you had heard this row you would have thought I had somehow engineered the flooding and destruction of my flat so that I could live a life of debauchery in the Groucho. Victoria then started using the revolving food as some kind of ammunition belt and I was soon being splattered with California Rolls and raw salmon. For once, I was seen as the injured party and she was escorted from the premises by a really small man from Lithuania (a place famed for sushi?)
I waited until she had disappeared and then slipped out and got a cab to the Groucho. Once there I managed to crash some book launch party and got really stuck in. It turned out to be some political dude but the chicks were hot to trot. I don’t know why chicks dig politicos so much. Maybe I should run for something? Cooper Out.
A handsome bald male, Cooper Brown is a 21st century success story. While doing an internship at Paramount in LA some big shots liked the Cooper style and took him under their wing. Now he’s a veteran of the shallow, backstabbing and treacherous movie industry, and he loves it.