CHRISTIE BRINKLEY was triumphant. She sat, gorgeous and composed, barely 15 feet from the unspeakable and insatiable pervert she had the misfortune of making her fourth husband, the human leech Peter Cook.
Cook sniveled and cried like a little girl as he took the witness stand yesterday in the couple’s surreal divorce trial – an event rapidly developing into an XXX girlie show. The Greatest Show on Earth!
The pressed and pompadoured Cook, who appears to be a single jowl away from a monster mid-life crisis, told the judge how he spent up to $3,000 a year to pose naked on the Web.
Yuck.
The charmer wrote strangers messages like this one: “Hey there, I’m a horny dude. Spare me the philosophy. F- – – me.”
He was just getting warmed up.
The man who used the Internet handle “wannaseeall” – and, Christie’s lawyer claimed, logged on using his son’s name, Jack – harbored appetites that are best acted out in a suburban den while the parents are away.
“Is it correct, sir,” Christie’s lawyer, Mark Cohen, asked the wilting flower, “that you masturbated in front of a Web cam?” The pause was as pregnant as Angelina Jolie.
“Yes,” Cook said, wiping away tears. If I didn’t have to touch him, I would just slap him.
Now, as I interrupt for a warm shower and a stiff shot, I have to answer the question that’s been haunting everyone on Long Island. Namely: Why the hell are we here?
Peter’s affair with cutie Diana Bianchi, a then-18-year-old child who looked as if she just stepped in from the mall, has already cost him a bundle. It ended his marriage. And, at last count, he’s forked over some $350,000 to Bianchi.
So we are we here, experiencing the banal idiocy of the Cook-Brinkley marriage, because Christie wanted the trial in the open.
From the cheap seats, we’ve all been wondering how you can live with a man you don’t even know.
Cook was a scoundrel who lived a double life, financially supported by Christie.
He also secretly hated her so desperately, he’d humiliate her to within an inch of her life.
All I can to Christie is – good for you! Warn the world about this demented creature.
Initially, Cook paid his mistress Bianchi $20,000, presumably for her typing skills. Also, for other things.
“Part of the reason for giving her money was for the sex?” Cohen asked. I expected an objection.
Instead, said Cook, “It was inducement to hiring her, yes.”
Bianchi testified briefly yesterday about sleeping with Cook maybe 12 times.
Cook stashed money for her under a rock at house he shared with Christie.
All this doesn’t include the $300,000 he gave her to keep her mouth shut.
Oops.
I hope she was worth it, Pete.
The idiocy of this man was as striking as his lacquered hair that stood four inches high.
He grew pompous and testy when Cohen misstated the names of streets in his beloved Hamptons.
His own lawyer, Norman Sheresky, was reduced to comparing him to people who may have behaved worse.
“Peter should not have done what he did. It’s selfish. It just happens. Like Gov. Spitzer and McGreevey. Like Bill Clinton.”
But Peter Cook is no Bill Clinton. At least Bill pays his own bills.
Christie, take the kids. Take everything.