R199, You got it all wrong. It wasn't the Bellagio, it was the Dunes, the precursor to the Bellagio (and for the record it's simply "Bellagio." If you want to use the Italian definite article, the correct would be "Il Bellagio."). And it wasn't the restroom either, it was out in the very center of the lobby.
Picture it, 1973, the Dunes Hotel. Helen Lawson had been in Los Angeles for weeks, putting together a one-woman-show for her Las Vegas debut at the Dunes. However, her anxiety and excitement (mixed with a few tumblers of bourbon), turned to rage as her limousine approached the hotel driveway. There on the towering marquee in big block letters announced: JOEY HEATHERTON. Underneath it, in smaller, narrower letters, along with other assorted names from yesteryear read, "Helen Lawson." Helen stormed into the hotel lobby and tore into the management staff on hand. She demanded top billing.
"But Miss Lawson," one of them protested, "Miss Heatherton is the headlining act. You are opening, along with Trini Lopez and Frankie Laine."
Helen's eyes widened before ripping the poor boy to shreds, "Helen Lawson opens for no one, pal! Not for the President, not for the Pope, not even for the goddamn Queen of England! And [italic]especially[/italic] not for some talentless hussy whose left leg hasn't seen the right one in a decade!"
She then turned on her heel, walked towards the center of the lobby, and proclaimed, "If this classy joint wants to sully its reputation with shitty acts, I'll give you a shitty act worth remembering!"
With that, Helen dropped her polyester slacks to her knees, squatted, dropped a turd, stood back up and pulled up her slacks, cocked her hat, and walked out.
