Porn Valley- Depending on who’s who and who’s what, Rob Spallone could be opening the doors of his modeling agency as early as Thursday morning. If a certain deal goes through, it will be the name of an agency already doing business in the industry.

“If they want to use their name, I’m fine with that,” he says.

If not Spallone, reverts to Star World Modeling, a name he came up with a few years ago, pissed off Jim South and necessitated a sit down with Russ Hampshire of VCA Pictures.

At the time, Spallone was given a deal to drop the idea of an agency and come shoot for VCA. Spallone says it was a pretty good deal, so he did. On the other issue, Rob says this agency merger would be a good deal since, the other way, he’d have to build a website from scratch and that might take six weeks.

But that’s not the deal he was talking about when I went to see him Wednesday afternoon. Spallone’s summing up a visit to Hollywood Park he made recently. Mike Barbella, who went along with Spallone to the race track, is already interjecting and Spallone’s telling him to shut the fuck up. In turn, Barbella’s calling Spallone a degenerate gambler who needs serious help.

Barbella then starts talking about the modeling agency in the “we” pronoun.

“We? He’s fuckin’ French,” mutters Spallone. “I hope you’re not putting down that he’s my partner.” Spallone also wants to make it clear that Barbella is nuts. Barbella, in turn, wants to make it clear that Spallone’s “an anal retentive psychotic mess.”

There’s not enough Prozac for his brain,” muses Barbella.

“Here’s what I’m saying,” Spallone continues, oblivious to the last comment. “I’ll take any girl that comes through the door that has a vagina. There’s no reason not to take any girl.” Spallone then explains how he met a girl from another agency during lunch over at the Lamplighter, and how she told him she wasn’t getting much work. So he invites her over to the new office at 9615 Canoga. Barbella asks if Spallone saw her eat. Spallone said yeah.

“She may not be on drugs,” Barbella concludes, noting that “tweakers” will sometimes order food to fool you then scrape it under the table when you’re not looking. Barbella recalls the time he was tweaking and how he could fit into his then-girlfriend’s Size 1 pink spandex. Spallone remembers Barbella flying around his apartment in those days. But, according to Spallone, the girl from the Lamplighter was very cute girl and he’s right. She walks in about an hour later. She tells Spallone he talks like “that guy in Goodfellas.” Spallone takes this as a compliment, noting that he almost had a run in with Joe Pesci at Hollywood Park when Pesci parked in his spot and almost ran him over.

“I would have kicked his ass but he’s too old,” Spallone laughs with a shrug.

Meanwhile, Barbella’s pointing out some of the office’s decorative highlights including tasteful leopard skin chairs and a matching cell phone which Spallone’s using. The only thing’s missing are a ’57 Chevy, an Elvis hairdo and a slot machine.

Spallone gets back to his Damon Runyan tale about Dr. Mumbles [so called because he mumbles] and how Dr. Mumbles gives him a tip on this horse race, that it’s a friend’s horse and the horse can’t lose. It’s the third horse in the fifth race. And on the way to the park, Spallone’s talking to Dr. Mumbles, and Barbella’s supposed to be writing down numbers 3-1-6-7.

Spallone goes on to explain how he’ll generally put $100 on a horse to win then make 2, $50 exacta bets. From there it gets a little more intricate. For his part, Barbella’s describing how he’s surrounded by degenerates at the race track, that there’s this old guy who’s convinced this jockey, Gomez, is on a hot streak and Barbella picks up the chant “Gomez, Gomez, Gomez!” But what really gets Barbella is the fact that Spallone’s horse comes in in the second race and Spallone rips up a $180 winning ticket.

“That’s a real ticket! That’s a fuckin’ winner!” Barbella’s yelling at Spallone.

Barbella’s now observing how all the other surrounding degenerates are eyeing the torn ticket and mentally re-assembling it. Spallone’s explanation is simple, that if you win the first race you bet on, you lose the rest of the day. So by tearing up the ticket, Spallone says he was able to win five races, never winning less than $900 in each of them. In the fifth race, Dr. Mumbles’ horse comes in as predicted, and Spallone’s in the winner’s circle when he gets a call from Dr. Mumbles congratulating him for winning $21,000.

“What $21,000?” Spallone’s asking him. “It was $1800.” At this point the story’s details get a little confusing but you get the feeling Spallone’s insinuating that Barbella didn’t get the trifecta numbers right. But I could be mistaken.

Barbella’s thinking that Spallone’s girlfriend Leah should be idolized as a saint for putting up with him. “Or tested for electro-shock therapy because something’s wrong.”

Spallone’s itching to make a bet, and Barbella’s thinking what Spallone’s thinking as Spallone sizes up a computer screen. Barbella did the computer installations for the modeling agency and warns Rob that all warranties are off if he goes to this particular “scum” website. Neither is Barbella a big fan of MySpace from a fucking up your computer point of view, to hear him tell it.

Spallone’s itching to place a $400 bet.

“But go ahead,” Barbella advises him. “Be a sucker. Make the bet- daddy needs a new pair of shoes. Let it ride!” Barbella predicts that Spallone will wind up on the TV show Intervention. Heedless to this bit of gambling wisdom, Spallone brings up the screen and Barbella sees a jockey’s name that he likes. Espinoza. Espinoza strikes a chord like Gomez.

“They’re all betting the No. 7 horse,” Barbella notes. “There’s no speed in the race.” Barbella wants Spallone to put $20 for him on Espinoza.

“We’re gonna bet the No. 3 horse,” Spallone tells him.

“Can you give me $20 on Espinoza?” Barbella asks him again.

“Espinoza is on a long shot, 7-1,” Spallone tells him.

“Give me Espinoza,” Barbella insists. “Loan me $20!” I want Espinoza!”

Spallone won’t, and Barbella takes off in a huff. But this isn’t the last he’s heard from him. Joe Spallone, Rob’s dad, just walked in and observes that Barbella could screw up a high mass.

Rob Spallone’s already done the math regarding the new agency and figures if he gets five to ten really pretty girls over the next six months and works them three times a week, he’s covering his nut. And that’s just the new girls. He says girls from LA Direct have been calling asking when he’s going to open. But the trick is getting the new girls.

“You have to spend money to get ’em,” he states. “All the cities in the middle of nowhere is where you need to run ads.” Barbella’s on the phone, and asks Spallone if he’s placed the bet on Espinoza.

“This fuckin’ kid- he won’t stop,” Rob laughs. He turns his attention back to the girl from the Lamplighter. She says she’s been with Fox and Gold Star Modeling and has done something like 40 movies in six months. Rob’s signing her up for the 8-girl orgy that was re-scheduled after Tuesday’s shoot had to be cancelled. Spallone’s also shooting a second movie Friday and books her for a scene in that one as well. She’s from out of town but mentions that she stays with Avy Lee Roth. Spallone looks quizzical. He’s not sure he knows who Roth is.

“You’re loyal to me, I’m loyal to you,” Spallone tells her. “I’ll work for you as long as you show up.” Spallone goes on to tell her that he’ll pay for her AIDs tests, that he has no problem with that. The girl tells him she doesn’t squirt and doesn’t do anal.

“The prettiest girls never did anal,” Spallone says and notes that 7 out of 10 “squirt” scenes are fake with the help of a douche bottle.

“You’re really pretty,” Spallone tells the girl. “How come you ain’t gettin’ no work?”

Espinoza’s horse wins and pays nine bucks.

Spallone’s cell phone rings. It’s Barbella.