Wednesday, April 11, 2012

The Biggest Mouth

Hi, my name is Jeremy.

JACKSON:  I don't see what the big deal is.

He's saying this as reporters are camped outside our apartment.

ME:  You don't see how telling the press that Billy had an affair with Bart would be a big deal?
JACKSON:  I assumed they'd be outside Billy's apartment, not ours.
ME:  They want our opinion on the whole mess.
JACKSON:  So give it to them.  Tell them Billy's an ass.
ME:  Yeah, I'm sure that'll look great on the front cover of a newspaper.

Leave it to my brother to stir up a s**tshow.

VOICE:  I just love papparazzi in the morning!

Our mother was lapping this all up.

ME:  Mom, please, don't encourage--any of this.
JOAN:  You're no fun, sweetie.
JACKSON:  At least she didn't give one of them her number like Paige did.
ME:  What could have possessed you to do this?

Jackson put down his magazine and stared right at me.

JACKSON:  They were asking about Dad.

I think I could feel the blood draining from my face.

ME:  What?
JACKSON:  The reporter.  He wanted to know why you never write about Dad.
ME:  What did you say to him?
JACKSON:  I said, 'Billy and Bart were having an affair.  Go ahead, boy, fetch!'  And it worked.  You're welcome.

I forget that despite his methods, Jackson usually does have good intentions where the family is concerned.

ME:  What if they ask again?  We're running out of scandals.
JOAN:  Maybe we'll need to make some more then.
ME:  Mom, that's not funny.
JOAN:  Darling, when sharks smell blood in the water, all you can do to save yourself is cut up someone else to feed to them.
JACKSON:  So that's how your honeymoon cruise went.

Mom smiled.

And when she smiles, I get nervous.

Really nervous.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Everybody Asks Questions

Hi, my name is Jackson.

VOICE:  Jeremy?

Here we go.

I was sitting at a coffee shop trying to decompress with my extra-caffeinated espresso when what was obviously a reporter tapped me on the shoulder.

ME:  Actually, I'm Jackson.

That used to disappoint a few and send them walking away, but the really bright ones realize that a twin brother may have just as many juicy stories as the man himself.

REPORTER:  Great.  I'd love to talk to you!

This guy was a bright one.

Lucky for me.

ME:  Look, let me save you some time.  Jeremy is a terrible brother.  Our mother drank.  Our sister is a transvestite, and I was beaten on a daily basis by a next-door neighbor named Claude.  Does that give you enough to work with?

I was already back to my copy of Details when he said--

REPORTER:  And what about your father?

Even the brightest of reporters rarely bring up the "D" word.  Maybe they sense that it's a sore subject.  Little do they know.

I turned around with my best smile laid out across my face.  If I were dealing with a gay man or a woman, this is where charm would come in handy, but whoever sent this guy was smart enough to send a straightie.

That meant a different tactic.

ME:  Our father died in a hunting accident.
REPORTER:  What was he hunting?
ME:  Christian scientists.  He was a very sick man.
REPORTER:  Is there a reason your brother's never written about him?
ME:  You'd have to ask my brother.
REPORTER:  Did your father and your brother have a good relationship?

If anyone asks, he disappeared.  Okay?  That's the story.

ME:  They were very close.

Until the untimely...

REPORTER:  You don't think it's odd that someone who writes about everything would refrain from writing about one of their parents?
ME:  Oh, I think it's very odd, but then again, I think everything that goes on in this city is pretty damn odd.

I stood up to go.

REPORTER:  I actually had a few more questions.
ME:  Refer them to my publicist.
REPORTER:  You have a publicist?
ME:  No, but when I get one, I'll let you know.

Then, just because every once in awhile you have to throw them a little something...

ME:  By the way, did you know Bart and Billy, two of the original CBQ's, were having an affair right before Bart went nuts.
REPORTER:  Is that a fact?
ME:  Do you care?

One more smile, and then I was off.

That should keep the press away from our Daddy issues.

At least, for now.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Someone's Always in a Coma

Hi, my name is Hank.

ME:  Explosives.  Somebody's really stepping it up.

We were all at the hospital visiting Ritchie, who was currently in a coma after someone tried to kill him.

JOEY:  Hank, are you worried?
ME:  Worried about what?
JOEY:  You and Ritchie were sleeping together.
ME:  So?
JOEY:  It's been my experience that the people you're sleeping with often try to kill you.
JACKSON:  I only try to kill people who stop sleeping with me.
DAVIS, ME, ADAM:  Truth.

The police were still investigating but it seemed reasonable to believe that one of the CBQ's was responsible for the bomb.

NATHAN:  Clearly, this was Billy's doing.
JEREMY:  We don't know that.
JOEY:  I don't know.  He seemed pretty angry at the restaurant.
ME:  He didn't want Ritchie going on the air and talking about his dirty little affair with Bart.
JEREMY:  Billy's not capable of murdering someone.
ME:  Isn't that what people always say about murderers?

Once I started looking around the room, I realized that most of the people in it were probably capable of murder.

Five years ago, we were all just catty little bitches, but lately some of us had gone off the deep end.

Admittedly, myself included.

DAVIS:  Once Ritchie wakes up, we'll find out who did this.
ADAM:  How do you know he knows who did it?
ME:  How do you know he's going to wake up?

Everyone looked at me.

ME:  What?

It's an honest question.

Now Where Did I Park?

Hi, my name is Ritchie.

BILLY:  Okay, we can talk about it on-air, but only if you promise--

This was going to be it.

The push I finally needed in the ratings to get me to that next level.

That Oprah-Ellen-Springer level that only the truly legendary attain.

Billy and I set out some ground rules, and some albeit unusual conditions, and then I was done for the day and ready to go soak in my kidney-shaped jacuzzi.

On my way to my car in the parking garage, I got the distinct feeling that somebody was following me.

It couldn't be Billy.  I saw him pull away as I was leaving the building.

So who--

I heard footsteps.

I started to run.

My car was on the third level.  If I could just make it there or run into somebody, anybody, I'd be fine.

The footsteps behind me stopped.

I turned around.

Nobody.

I went up a flight, and there was my car.

No scratches, no air let out of the tires.

Fame was making me paranoid.

I hit the "Unlock" button on my keychain.

And that was when the car exploded--

--And I got thrown into the air wondering if anything like this ever happened to Jerry.

An Affair to Forget

Hi, my name is Billy.

RITCHIE:  If you're here to kill me, I should let you know that I have a security guard waiting right outside the door.
ME:  I gave him twenty bucks, and he said he'd be back in an hour.
RITCHIE:  You know, it's getting harder and harder to find good help.

I shut the door to Ritchie's office.

ME:  Did Bart tell you that he and I were having an affair?
RITCHIE:  Not in so many words--
ME:  RITCHIE!
RITCHIE:  FINE!  Yes!  He did.

I sat down in front of his desk.

ME:  And you were going to pay him for the details?
RITCHIE:  It's nothing personal, Billy.  It's just that your character on CBQ is so pious and judgmental.  Hearing about how you went straight only to carry on an affair with a convicted felon was just too good to pass up.
ME:  We weren't actually having an affair.
RITCHIE:  Then what was going on?

You're going to get me to Jeremy.  Do you understand me, Billy?


ME:  It's complicated.
RITCHIE:  You say complicated and I hear 'ratings gold.'
ME:  None of this is getting on the air or on the record.
RITCHIE:  Then why are you here?
ME:  I need to know what Bart told you.
RITCHIE:  He didn't tell me anything.  He didn't have a chance to.  He decided to go crazy first.
ME:  He was always crazy.

I got up to leave, and that's when Ritchie said--

RITCHIE:  Is the kid yours?

Apparently Bart had done some talking after all.

Hot Potato

Hi, my name is Nathan.

JEREMY:  It's Billy.

Great.  More news from the front.

Jeremy showed up at my house uninvited all atwitter because Joey got Billy riled up about his alleged affair with Bart.

Meanwhile, I had bigger issues on my hands.

ME:  They let Ben out of jail.
JEREMY:  What?  That's great!  When did this happen?
ME:  Today.  He cut a deal.
JEREMY:  Is it because they heard about Billy and the check and Ritchie--
ME:  It's because he sold me out.
JEREMY:  He--wait, what?

I got the phone call letting me know that my husband was released but I was now under investigation.  Apparently Ben knew something, and whatever he knew, he told to Paul, that miserable hostage negotiator-turned-investigator.

JEREMY:  What could Ben have told Paul about you?
ME:  I don't know!  That I'm a bad cook?
JEREMY:  Nathan, this is serious.  You need to talk to Ben.
ME:  I can't.  He's disappeared.
JEREMY:  Disappeared?
ME:  Or they're hiding him from me.
JEREMY:  This is getting really out of hand.
ME:  Jeremy, somebody's already been jailed and now they're coming after me.  I'd say this got out of hand a long time ago.

I sat down on my couch wondering whether or not I should just skip town.

Jeremy sat next to me and put his hand on my hand.

I forgot how comforting he can be when I don't have a husband that's in love with him.

JEREMY:  It's going to be okay, Nathan.

My head was on his shoulder, and then my lips were up against his neck...

JEREMY:  Nathan--
ME:  Sshh...

We fell back down onto the couch, and before I knew it, I wasn't thinking about leaving.

The complete opposite of that, in fact.

I Want to See the Light

Hi, my name is Joey.

ME:  Can I be straight now?

Adam said I have to do this if I want to keep free-loading off him.

Those are his harsh words of hate, not mine.

BILLY:  Joey, you want to be straight?
ME:  Yeah, like you.  Minus the left-at-the-altar thing though.  And I'd like to keep my tan.

I had Billy meet me at a restaurant downtown.  Jeremy and Adam told me I had to pump him for information.  They wouldn't let me do it the fun way, so this was my Plan B.

BILLY:  I'm really surprised by this.
ME:  Why?  I've dated girls before.
BILLY:  When?
ME:  Eighth grade.  One even taught me how to trim my eyebrows.
BILLY:  That's--okay, I don't know where to begin.

Time to pump.

ME:  Did you ever sleep with any a guy again after you decided you were straight?
BILLY:  That's a really personal question.
ME:  So that's a 'Yes?'
BILLY:  Joey--
ME:  Just because I'm worried I might sleep with someone.  Like, someone crazy.  Like, someone who might end up going really nuts and doing something insane.  And then maybe I'd feel bad about the fact that I did stuff with them and--
BILLY:  Joey, are you trying to ask me something?
ME:  Yes, uh, I mean--

Whenever I'm nervous, I usually take my pants off, but that didn't seem like it would work here so--

ME:  Did you and Bart sleep together?

Billy's face got even whiter--I really should refer him to my tanning salon.

Then he grabbed my hand from across the table.

ME:  Ow!
BILLY:  Who told you that?
ME:  Billy--
BILLY:  What happened with me and Bart is nobody's business.
ME:  It kinda is since he, like, tried to kill us and stuff.
BILLY:  How did you--
ME:  Bart told Ritchie and Ritchie was going to do a show about it.
BILLY:  Are you kidding?
ME:  I don't know which part of any of that is supposed to be funny.

Billy got up and started walking away.

ME:  Where are you going?

He turned around, picked up a knife, and brought it up to my face.

BILLY:  Do me a favor.  Tell whichever bitch sent you here that I done talking to any of you for the rest of my life.  Got it?

I nodded.

Billy dropped the knife and walked away.

I don't like to assume anything, but I think he may have something to hide.