Before I even met your mother, Brant had been calling again and again. I figured that all they wanted was the rug back, so I ignored the calls until they left a message insisting that it was not about the rug, and Big Lebowski wanted to see me again. Bunny had been kidnapped, and the kidnappers wanted a million dollars. He wanted me to take it to them, because I could tell him whether it was the rug pissers who did it or not. He offered me a big load of money if I agreed, and his story seemed plausible at the time, so I took the gig. He gave me a beeper, and told me that they would call when they needed me again.
On the next bowling night, I told Walter and Donny about it, and Walter went off again, insisting that he be the driver. His plan was that we would give the kidnappers a fake bag. He was convinced that the whole thing was a scam and that she was not in any danger. I had thought that too, but I harbored some doubts. I was convinced that I was wrong later when your grandfather and his errand boy presented me with a severed little toe with the same color nail polish Bunny wore. I was then terrified that I had sent an innocent girl to her death. Your grand dad told me that he knew I had the money, and that the gangsters would be after me now. To make it all worse, my car had been stolen, and that's where the real briefcase was. I didn't know it at the time, but there was nothing but phone books in that case.
Almost as soon as I got home, three Germans claiming that they were nihilists, and that they had Bunny showed up while I was trying to take a bath. They smashed things, and threw a damn marmot into my tub. They told me they would be back for the cash, and not only would they kill Bunny, but would also cut off my little friend if I did not comply. Walter was convinced that they were lying at our next bowling night, but I was really scared! Donny didn't seem to understand it, but Walter shushed him saying that he should have listened the first time, and it was his fault if he was confused. He did that to Donny a lot.
"Wait a minute," Artemisia again interrupted, "I still don't understand what my mother has to do with all of this!" "Sorry," said The Dude, I was coming to that. I may not be telling you these things in the order they happened, because it was nineteen years ago, and I am known to smoke some weed. My memory isn't always clear. I think I need to go back to my car being stolen.
I called the cops to report that my car had been stolen, that my tape deck, my Credence, and my briefcase were in it at the time. I also mentioned that the red rug had been stolen. That confused them. I had to explain that it was not in the car, but stolen from my apartment. While I was trying to describe it, the phone rang, and I let it go to the answering machine. It was your mother, who explained that she took the rug, and would like to meet me to offer me something. She was insistent. That solved the problem of the rug, but not my car, which was eventually found with the driver's side door smashed, a really nasty smell in it, and no briefcase. Well, anyway, let's get back to your mother.
When I went to her studio, she was painting something while swinging from a harness buck naked. She got green paint on my head! She came down from there and put on a robe. For a while, I couldn't understand what she was getting at, and thought she might be trying to pick me up. She apologized for my jaw, and insisted that I see some doctor she knew. I told her it was fine, but she would not let it rest, so I stopped arguing and took his business card. She told me that your grand dad had no money that was really his, and that the million belonged to a charitable foundation her mother had started. Your Grandma was the one who had money and ran businesses. Your mom told me that she knew he had embezzled that million from the charity, but did not want to call the police on her own father. She hoped I could get it back for her. She offered me some of it for my trouble. By then, I thought I knew where the money was. Some kid's homework had been left in my car. Walter found him, and we went over there. We were so sure he had the money because a new red Corvette was parked in front of his house. When the kid played ignorant, Walter flew off the handle, and smashed the hell out of that car. Turns out, it wasn't the kid's at all. The real owner came out of the next house over and started screaming at Walter, then started smashing out all the glass on my car. Donny ran away scared. We eventually all got out of that alive, but I was mad at Walter for a long time. I soon started to think that there was no money in that case to start with. Your grand dad was tired of Bunny owing money to the likes of Jackie Treehorn, and wanted the kidnappers to off her, if there actually were any. He could then claim that I lost the million that was never in the briefcase to start with; pin it all on the bum.