Well lil Nicky Fondulis (as I will always think of him) is coming up in the world - his manager is worried that my monologue MR. BLACK, which Nick recorded for my STRESS AND THE CITY production two years ago, and which I posted to Youtube, is counterproductive to his career, with its dark undertones and cursing. But hey that's off-off Broadway baby. But Nick emailed me from El Lay and asked me to take it down, so I did - or rather, I set the video posting to "Private" so only those I designate can see it. His wholesome image is safe now.I'm surprised that actors are still type-cast so rigorously in this day and age - I guess you are either going for comedy series or R-rated HBO dramas, and can't do both.
MR. BLACK is loosely based on my ex-boyfriend who, as a teenager, did break his father's arm, although not over his father beating the dog - the entire family adored Emily the dog. But before I met him, my ex boyfriend saw some guy beating his dog (the guy's dog, not my ex-boyfriend's) and challenged him to a fight - which I think is endearing and commendable since any form of animal cruelty is unbearable to me, I can't even watch those damn Sarah McLaughlin "in the arms of an angel" commercials showing sad dogs and cats - although not perhaps wise.
So he challenged the dog-beater and the guy agreed to meet him in a nearby playground that evening - and my ex showed up for the fight, but the guy never showed up. My ex is lucky the guy didn't show up with a gun.
My ex is physically fearless and is not in the least afraid to challenge anybody to a fight - the fact that he holds black belts in three different martial arts no doubt contributes to this. But in a world of freely-available guns even that doesn't make you invincible.
The objectionable MR. BLACK monologue in its entirety:
I had this dog, Emily, she was the best dog in the world. And one day she growled at my father so he started beating her. I was in my room watching TV, I heard her crying, I came running out, I was like "what the fuck are you doing" - but before he could answer I twisted his arm behind his back. My mom came out screaming, "let him go" - I let him go and he took a swing at me. So I pushed him down the fucking stairs. Just like that. I didn't even have to think about it. After four years of training it was automatic. Broke his fucking arm. I mean he's fine now. I guess. I haven't seen him since I got out of school. But poor Emily. She got sick and died. I mean she was fourteen when she died, which was pretty good for a dog. But it pisses me off, you know - why the fuck is he still alive and she's gone? I had her cremated. I put her in an urn. Up on my mantle. Now she's always with me. Such a good girl. Such a good girl.
The part about cremating the dog and putting her in an urn is also based on my ex-boyfriend. In fact, I gave him the urn for Christmas one year - this heavy-ass brass urn that was meant for people ashes. Prior to that he had the cremains in a box.
Before the Superbowl commercial Nick's biggest claim to fame was his appearance on 30 Rock (along with another actor I work with, Daniel Genalo) - there's even a Wiki about that episode, "Audition Day".
I just hope Nick isn't sorry when I develop a series for HBO about a foul-mouthed young man who goes around beating up animal abusers.