I don’t think David was ever in Radcliff’s private guest room. If he visited there, he never told me of his findings. To my surprise, on July 5, following the night I had politely told Simon DeRue and his naked buddies (Chad and Anthony) to leave the property with their video equipment, Radcliff Roberts asked me for my assistance, inviting me inside room 210.
Of course, I obliged. Perhaps I shouldn’t have. But, as the old cliché went, curiosity killed the proverbial cat. Meow!
Let me back up just a smidge. If one is to share details of a rare event, they should certainly be in correct order. Beginning. Middle. End. Strong storytelling has always involved proper juxtaposition. I was not one to ruin or abandon such territory. Here goes:
Beginning.
Nighttime arrived, welcoming an abundanc
