In 2005 Gene Shalit and Courtney Love embarked on an impossible mission: the rescue of a thousand llamas in the Swiss Alps, abandoned after a horrible plane wreck. Armed only with fur coats and skis, and three used copies of Prizzi's Honor, they started out in rough climates- and climbed to the top. Their romance would endure even the toughest climate and wild bears.

CHAPTER ONE

Gene Shalit stroked his moustache and looked out the window to the cold, Vancouver snow. It was the kind of day that made him think about where Nicole Kidman's career had gone down the toilet and inspired those strange urges towards Johnny Depp he often had. The telephone began to ring. Gene picked up but his answering machine was blaring.

"This is Gene Shalit. In a world where bad movies just get worse, at least you can count on one thing- Kevin Costner blows chunks."

There was a frantic voice. "Gene, it's Murray Schwartz, I need you."

"What do you want, you Jewish bastard?"

A cold winded whipped violently across the Beverly Hills plains and to the doorstep of the Love mansion. Courtney Love inserted a gigantic needle into her arm and released the fluid quickly, sighing. It rushed to her head quickly and made her feel funny, and she sat down and dropped the turniquet.

A knock at the door startled her. She stumbled to it and found Gene Shalit standing there before her, clutching a ham sandwich that was wedged inside his fat cheeks.

"Co...urttt...neyy...." he said inbetween chunks of flying tomato and jalapeno cheddar jack.

Courtney swung at him with her fist but flung herself down the front steps and to the ground.

"You... bastard, Gene Shalit!" "Didn't you make me a sandwich?" she asked.

"Yes, and I ate it," he said. Making love had made Gene hungry.

"Gene, I'm thinking about taking on the Anne Boleyn story," Courtney said. Gene started laughing, softly first, then hysterically.

"Why are you laughing? Not high profile enough?" she asked.

"Not talented enough!" Gene started to choke on a meatball.

"Up yours, Gene Shalit."