I wrote a play with a comrade which I titled, Warhol. Not long into research with both realized that not only were we writing a play about Andy Warhol, but were using him as a guru on how to make a pop piece of art. Meaning making cash. We were exciting about creating publicity stunts of all kinds. We thought we might get in trouble with the estate and they did come after us after we sent them a prospectus on investing in the show. A private eye met with my partner disguising himself as an investor. A few days later we got an inch thick ream of legalsleeze in the mail from a bunch of liyers. It all of a sudden got scary, even though this is what we wanted. Instead of relishing it all, my partner got mad. A week later the 1989 earthquake occured and not long after I moved away. Had to. That was the end of the project.