BEVERLY HILLS – During a press conference several weeks before she passed away, a defiant Elizabeth Taylor lashed out at Charlie Sheen, calling his self-described epic drug fests “amateur” and “exaggerated.” Without attempting to hide her profoundly bloodshot eyes from cameras, Taylor told a group of reporters outside the Chateau Marmont Hotel that she’d just concluded a seventeen day “Grand Prix marathon” of partying that would make Sheen look like a “one legged leper with a cleft palate.”
It was the first time Taylor had come clean about the endless years of what she referred to as her “death match partying.” She told reporters that the amount of drugs and alcohol that she regularly ingests would cause Charlie Sheen to “screech like a lazy-eyed mongoloid with cholera.”
Speaking of Charlie Sheen’s almost 24-hour television Tour De Force in 2011, Elizabeth Taylor told reporters she’d had enough of Sheen’s “fragile attempts to look cool” and decided it was time to break her fifty year silence on her own wild and crazy ways.
“C’mon!” she chortled, “I was kickin’ it and snortin’ it with James Dean in the fifties. I used to drink the notorious alcoholic Montgomery Clift under the table. Hell, I was married to Richard Burton twice and it was nothing but non-stop partying. The reason we divorced the first time is because Richard felt inferior because he couldn’t keep up with me. He spent months drinking toxic amounts of alcohol to win back my respect, but when he eventually collapsed I divorced him again.”
“Who do you think turned Michael Jackson onto Propofol? We used to inhale that stuff like it was candy and make prank phone calls to his creepy family members. Talk about winning! And unlike Charlie Sheen, I didn’t waste my time telling the world how amazing I was, that would have meant less time getting wasted.”
Motley Crue bass player, Nikki Sixx, recently admitted when his heart stopped in 1987 after a heroin overdose that he’d been partying with Elizabeth Taylor for several days.
“Who would have though Elizabeth Taylor could party like that?” Nikki asked. “By the fifth or six day I was draggin’ and she was calling me a wuss! Next thing I know I’m waking up in the hospital with tubes coming out of me and doctors are tellin’ me I died for several minutes. When I got back home Liz had taken my stash and gone to Jamaica with David Crosby.”
“Lord, if we start counting the people who’ve died or had organs replaced because they were foolish enough to try and party with me, we’ll be here for a month. I have no interest in counting the bodies laying around me when I can be tootin’ and shootin’.”
A reporter asked Taylor to comment on Charlie Sheen’s much publicized antics.
“Sheen’s a troll. A half-wit, small-screen monkey with psoriasis. He’s Greg Brady in a pleather vest lusting after his plaid culotte swathed step-mom. His life is so normal and predictable it makes mine look like a blazing sun lighting up the solar system in comparison.”
Taylor challenged Sheen to try and out-party her.
“The seven gram rocks he’s pounding are the equivalent of what I spill on the floor in an hour. If he attempts to party with me he’ll end up gnawing on his mercury surfboard in an attempt to get feeling back into his cranium. He’ll be using the tip of that rocket fueled saber of his to gouge his eyes out. His passion for anger will be swallowed by a new found zeal for adult diapers and Oprah reruns. He’ll be worse off than a fat, bald woman with a fungus problem hungering for love.”
And what did Elizabeth Taylor predict would happen if Sheen accepted her offer to party?
“When I’m done with him he’ll be a gnarled lump of pasty flesh quivering on the floor, and I’m going to smoke his hairpiece in a bong made from the skull of his most nubile Goddess.”
Charlie Sheen never had the courage to respond to Elizabeth Taylor’s challenge.