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Hef's Little Black Book

Page 9

by Hugh M. Hefner


  According to Silverstein, it would go something like this (as cribbed from an interview of long ago):

  Well, it had to happen: It’s time for Hef to die. So Death comes to the Chicago Mansion and rings the bell. The butler answers the door and asks, “Is Mr. Hefner expecting you?”

  “No, but I think he’ll see me,” Death tells him.

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Hefner’s not available now,” the butler says. “He’s busy. But feel free to leave any correspondence at the Playboy Building, and it’ll get to him.”

  After hearing more protestations, after clearing it with Hef, the butler lets Death in. Dressed in full fatal shroud, Death enters, checks his scythe at the door, and sits down, waiting for Hef.

  “Mr. Hefner was expecting you, after all,” the butler tells him, “but he’s been up for seventy-two hours straight and needs more sleep. He’ll be out in a couple of hours.”

  Three hours later, the butler calls for Death, who’s been watching staff going in and out of Hef’s room carting trays of peanut butter sandwiches and mashed potatoes with gravy. Butler says, “Mr. Hefner is now looking at a movie that he really wanted to see, but he said he will be out as soon as the film ends. In the meantime, would you like a drink?”

  Death says, “Well, I’ll take some Cognac.”

  And the butler brings Death some Cognac.

  Four hours and twelve Cognacs later, Hef emerges from his quarters. He says, “Buddy, I really am sort of tied up right now. But I’d love to sit down with you first thing in the morning. Grab something to eat. Play some music. Use the pool. Meet the girls. Have a good time.”

  Death, now more than a little smashed, takes Hef’s advice and goes downstairs to the pool. He takes off his Reaper cloak and sends it through the house laundry service, where it’s immediately ironed. (This is Mansion Life, after all.) Meanwhile, the Mansion staff sharpens his scythe and stains the handle mahogany to match the rest of the house’s décor.

  Soon, it’s time for the Bunnies to return from the Playboy Club. They jump in the pool, and Death swims nude with them, then starts ordering himself steak and champagne. Death is living the good life and thrilled about it. It’s what we do here.

  Months and months and months go by. Death has long made himself at home at Hef’s. He’s beside himself with happiness, living in the Leather Room, dating Bunnies, swacked on Cognac and champagne daily.

  Death finally bumps into Hef, having forgotten why he ever showed up. Hef says, “So you’re having fun, I hope.” Death, bleary-eyed, just smiles and orders another steak and another bottle of champagne and goes back to his room.

  Moral: The world of Hugh M. Hefner can seduce even Death. Because his world is all about Life.

  * * *

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Very special gratitude is due to Mauro DiPreta, Joelle Yudin, Kim Lewis, Lorie Young, and Amy Hill at William Morrow; to Elizabeth Georgiou and the staff at Playboy’s Chicago Photo Library; to flawless archivist Steve Martinez at Playboy Mansion West; and to Josh Schollmeyer for his bravura editorial support throughout.

  Copyright

  All photographs are courtesy of Playboy Enterprises, Inc.

  The recipe “Eat Like Hef” is copyright © 1991 Playboy Enterprises, Inc.

  HEF’S LITTLE BLACK BOOK. Copyright © 2004 by Playboy Enterprises, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  Adobe Digital Edition June 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-195763-5

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