The Game

were all going to let him, because most artists have the same fatal flaw: They’re too lazy to deal with anything practical themselves.
    We never actually invited Papa to join us in Project Hollywood that day. It just happened because he was willing to do the work. There was a Coldwell Banker office across the street from the hotel, and Papa walked in and found us a real estate agent named Joe. Real estate agents don’t make much money on rentals, but Papa managed to talk Joe into working for us by promising to teach him the game.
    “He’s going to take us tomorrow to look at houses,” Papa said when we met him in the lobby of the Furama Hotel one afternoon. “There are three places I really like. There’s a mansion on Mulholland Drive; there’s the former Rat Pack crib off Sunset; and there’s the supermansion, which has ten bedrooms, tennis courts, and a built-in nightclub.”
    “Well, I’m for the supermansion,” I told him. “How much is it?”
    “It’s fifty thousand a month.”
    “Forget it.”
    Papa’s face clouded. He didn’t like the word no. He was an only child.
    He disappeared into his hotel room and emerged a half hour later with a sheet of paper in his hands. On it, he had sketched out a plan to earn $50,000 a month. We’d throw a weekly party in the club, and make $8,000 by charging admission and $5,000 in drinks per month; various pickup and lifestyle seminars would earn the house $20,000; we’d offer tennis lessons that would add up to $2,000 a month; and the ten residents of the house would pay $1,500 each in rent.
    It was completely impractical. It wasn’t worth spending all our income on overhead. But it was impressive. Papa was going to make Project Hollywood happen, no matter what it took. I began to understand why Mystery wanted to work with Papa. He was one of us: He was a go-getter. He had initiative. And, unlike Mystery, he was a closer.
    As a pickup artist, Papa also seemed worthy of Project Hollywood. He’d proven his fearlessness in the field over and over since we’d met him in Toronto. And he would prove himself once more the following day, when he picked up Paris Hilton at a taco stand.

MSN GROUP: Mystery’s Lounge
    SUBJECT: Field Report—The Seduction of Paris Hilton
    AUTHOR: Papa

    Today, I went with Style, Mystery, and our real estate agent to our prospective mansion, Dean Martin’s old crib in the Hollywood Hills. I am in love with the place and can’t wait to close the deal. We will be on top of the world, literally and figuratively. When you are in our crib, everything seems perfect.
    It’s a short walk to a popular Mexican fast-food restaurant, so we went over there for a late lunch. After ordering food, we found a table outside. Suddenly, our agent leaned over to me and whispered:

    REAL ESTATE AGENT: You know, I saw Paris Hilton walk inside the restaurant. I think she’s ordering a burrito. Why don’t you go pick her up?
    PAPA: Really?
    STYLE: Hey, if you are going to walk over there, don’t look in her direction.
    PAPA: All right, it’s playtime.

    I got up, walked into the restaurant, and saw a hot blonde chick getting salsa. So I thought, “Salsa sounds good to me.” I’ve been gearing my game up for this moment, and now it was time to take what I deserved. So I walked over to her side and pretended like I was just at the salsa bar by coincidence. I helped myself to some salsa, and then looked over my right shoulder at her and started the conversation with Style’s jealous girlfriend opener.

    PAPA: Hey, I need a female opinion on something?
    PARIS: ( Smiles and looks up ) Okay.
    PAPA: Would you date a guy who was still friends with his ex-girlfriend?
    PARIS: Yeah. I think so. Sure.

    I started to walk away, then turned back and continued the conversation.
    PAPA: Hmm. Actually, this is a two-part question.
    PARIS: ( Smiles and giggles )
    PAPA: Imagine you were dating a guy who was still friends with his ex-girlfriend. And you were going to move in with him but he had a drawer with pictures of his ex-girlfriend—not nudie pictures or anything, just regular pictures and some letters.
    PARIS: Ooh. I would so get rid of them. I would put them in a box.

    I cut her off and continued with the opener.

    PAPA: Do you think it’s unreasonable for her to want him to get rid of those pictures?
    PARIS: Oh, for sure. I dated a guy who did that, and I tossed them.
    PAPA: Wow! The reason why I asked was because I have a friend in the same situation,