MY V.I. (a soap opera)

2009-09-09T15:58:00.001-07:00

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**MY V.I. (a soap opera) is a fictional story about a very real place - THE VILLAGE INN

Episode 39

2009-09-09T10:18:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

"Don't make me climb over this bar and beat you!" Cindy warned a complaining patron.

"Can't you see; I've got fourteen tables to wait on, a full bar and no one to help me and you want me to make more popcorn! Yeah, right!"

As Cindy was ventilating her feelings, Trudy came behind the bar to announce some good news.

"O.k. I got it worked out. I just spoke to Charmaine and she's right in the middle of another T.V. news interview, but she said that they should 'wrap' in a few more minutes and then she'll run right over. Hmm, I wonder what she means; 'wrap?'"

Howard, the owner of Family T's on Marine Ave., and a V.I. regular, chimed in with the explanation.

"Wrap is an industry term, Trudy. It means finished or done. The director always yells, 'that's a wrap' when filming is done or at the end of the day."

Trudy looked over at Cindy then back to Howard.

"Oh. O.k. Thank you, Howard. That's good to know." Then, looking back to Cindy, she continued, "O.k., Cindy; I guess that's a 'wrap' for me, too. I've gotta get home and make David dinner."

MEANWHILE, ACROSS TOWN . . .

As the Mercedes limousine roared north on Pacific Coast Highway, Sky lay bound and gagged in the trunk (Mayhem had not enjoyed his joke).

As he rolled helplessly about, he couldn't help but think to himself, "Wow, I'm surprised. This things got a much roomier trunk than I would have ever imagined."

He also couldn't help but notice that he was able to hear what was being said inside the car, and what most perplexed him was the frequent laughter . . . Michelle's laughter. "What on earth could she possibly be laughing about?" he wondered.

Inside the limo the laughter continued as Mayhem asked, "Another Van Gogh blueberry on the rocks, my dear?"

(As it turns out, Mayhem kept the limo stocked with various liquors, and one of them happened to be Van Gogh Blueberry Vodka; Michelle's absolute favorite).

"Oh, 'May'. I really shouldn't!" Michelle giggled as she held out her empty glass.

"Of course you should, my darling," Mayhem replied as he stroked her arm.

Taking her glass; he refilled it with vodka, but before he returned it to her he pointed out the window.

"Look! Doesn't that cloud formation look like a giant pair of walnuts with a '58 Buick rammed in between them?" he asked.

Michelle turned and looked out the window, but as she did; out of the corner of her eye she saw Mayhem open a capsule and sprinkle the powdered contents into her drink. She decided it would be safest to play along.

"Why, yes. You're absolutely right about the walnuts, but the Buick looks more like a '53 Skylark, if you ask me," she replied as she turned back toward him.

He seemed surpised that she would contradict him. Rolling down the window; he stuck his head out to get a better look, then he came back in and stared at her for a moment.

"Perhaps you're correct," he conceded. "Now, here, my darling. Let's have a toast," he said as he handed her back her drink.

"What shall we toast to, you devil?" Michelle asked as she took the tainted drink from him.

Mayhem thought for a moment and then announced: "We shall drink to all who've had their nuts run over by a Buick!"

"Here, Here!" Michelle replied.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 38

2009-09-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

"Tacos! I hate these damn TACOS!," Cindy screamed as she stormed through the kitchen and into Trudy's office.

"What's wrong?" Trudy asked.

"I'm pissed off that I'm here by myself and everybody on the island has decided to come here for these cheap tacos! Where the hell is Mary? The place is packed!" (Wednesday's special at the Village Inn is $2.00 tacos)

"I don't know. I left her a message but she hasn't called me back. Maybe I should try to get a hold of someone else . . . you think?"

Before Cindy could respond Fermin, the busboy, rushed into the office.

"Cindy. The lady at table 10, she says she wants three more tacos; beef, no cheese, to go."

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Cindy yelled as she turned and stomped back into the bar.

"Don't worry. I'll try to find someone to come in!" Trudy called out after her.

Meanwhile, across town . . .

As the ambulance carrying Mary drove away, Quagmire stood next to the limousine waving; while inside the car, Trixie stared longingly into Sky's eyes.

Sky had seen that look before and he knew exactly what it meant.

It was that look that says, "I know we're in the back of a stranger's limo, but I can no longer deny the smoldering passion that is currently rising up inside the private compartment where my petulant passions are presently imprisoned!"

As he tried to figure out the quickest way to get out of his phony Arab garb he heard the screeching of tires and a car roaring to a stop behind them.

"What the hell?" he mumbled as he turned and glanced out the window. From inside the limo he could see that the car behind them was another vintage Mercedes limousine. Suddenly, a man dressed as a clown bounded from the new limo with a gun drawn and began screaming as he approached Quagmire.

(What Quagmire did not realize was that a tracking device, installed on the limo he was driving, had lead Mayhem directly to him.)

"I will kill you on the spot!" Mayhem screamed.

"NO. Master . . No! I can explain!" Quagmire pleaded as he ran and ducked behind the car Sky and Trixie were sitting in.

"What the #%*@?" Sky shouted from inside the car.

"What's going on?" Trixie asked.

"Shut up and get down!" he snapped.

Mayhem ran up to Quagmire who was now down on his knees pleading for his life. He put the gun to his head, and as the old man begged for mercy a shot rang out.

"NO!" Sky yelled as Trixie let out a piercing scream.

Throwing her to the floor of the car, Sky laid over top of her and whispered, "Be quiet!" As he did, she began to wrestle against him.

"What the hell's going on?" she yelled as she tried to push him off of her.

Her voice was different and Sky realized that the switch had happened again . . . Trixie was gone and Michelle was back.

Sky could see the clown who'd just shot Quagmire circling the limousine and peering through the windows so he slapped his hand over her mouth and whispered desperately, "Michelle! It's me, Sky. We're in deep trouble - PLEASE . . . be quiet and do exactly what I say!"

Michelle twisted her head around and looked directly in his eyes. His fear was unmistakeable, and sensing the enormity of the situation, she quit fighting him.

They both watched in abject terror as Mayhem approached the back of the limousine where they lay hidden inside. He put his face up to the tinted passenger side window and attempted to see inside. After a moment, he backed away from the window and turned, and they both breathed a sigh of relief, but as quickly as he'd turned away he swung back around and flung the door open; revealing the two of them as they cowered on the floor of the car.

Sky rolled over on top of Michelle, put up his hands and yelled, "NO, NO! Please . . please don't shoot, don't, don't shoot!"

Mayhem let out a bloodcurdling scream as he leveled the gun at the two of them.

"Oh my god!" Michelle screamed as she closed her eyes.

"No, NO! P-l-e-a-s-e!" Sky yelled.

"It was as if time came to a complete stop," Sky would later recall.

The frightening, peculiar clown stood motionless with the gun pointed at them for what seemed like an eternity, and then tilted his head from side to side as if he were confused. Eventually, he lowered the gun and turned back toward the limousine behind them and called out, "Haywire, come quickly."

Blinded by fear and still on the floor of the limo, Sky and Michelle could hear a car door open and someone walking up to the car they were in.

"Get up front and drive," Mayhem barked to Haywire.

Displaying no emotion over the fact that Mayhem had just killed his father, Haywire did exactly as he was told, and as he got in the driver's seat of the limousine, Mayhem climbed into the back with Sky and Trixie.

Waving the gun at the two of them he said, "Get up, for goodness sake. Have a seat."

Sky and Michelle; stunned to still be alive, glanced at each other and hesitated.

"GET UP!" Mayhem yelled.

Startled, they both climbed up onto the jumpseat.

Mayhem could see that people were gathering and watching at a distance and so he yelled, "Haywire . . DRIVE!"

"Yes, Master," the imbecile replied as he floored the limousine.

Bystanders and potential witnesses jumped out of the way as the mammoth car careened out of the parking lot and roared off down Tustin Ave. toward Pacific Coast Highway.

Sky and Michelle sat frozen as they stared at this freakish clown who now seemed calm and unmoved by what just took place. He sat silent, with the gun in his lap, and looked out the window as if he were sightseeing. Then, suddenly, he raised the gun and pointed it at Michelle.

"SO! What's your name?" he demanded.

Michelle gasped and made the sign of cross.

"M-M-Michelle," she stammered.

Mayhem's eyes widened and he twisted the gun back and forth.

"So . . . M-M-Michelle. I see you're Catholic," he said, mockingly.

Michelle looked down and then back up at him.

"Yes . . yes, sir. I'm Catholic."

As he placed the gun in his lap again, he responded, "Wow! Me too. That's weird. I was raised very Catholic. In fact, I went to an all boys Catholic school. Well, sort of all boys. RuPaul went to my school. I hate that RuPaul!"

Sky tried not to, but he couldn't help but snicker.

Mayhem grabbed the gun and pointed it at him.

"What's so funny, frat boy?" he screamed.

"Nothing," Sky replied as he secretly wondered, 'frat boy . . . where the hell did that come from?'

"No, really. Tell me . . I love a good joke." Mayhem answered.

Sky knew better, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Well. You said you're Catholic, right?" Sky asked.

"Yes," Mayhem responded.

"And, RuPaul went to your school?"

"Yes. Why is that so funny?"

"Well, I was just wondering. Just what school, exactly, did you go to? Our Lady, "Drag" Queen of Angels?" Sky asked with a chuckle.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I .

Episode 37

2009-07-28T23:04:00.001-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

"She's been troubled since she was little," Susan sighed as the paramedics placed Mary on a stretcher.

Wheeling her out to the waiting ambulance, Susan followed and continued, "I hope I did the right thing by calling you guys. When I found her passed out with that tube of glue in her nose I just didn't know what to do."

One of the EMTs assured her that she'd done the right thing.

"Where are you taking her?" she asked the driver.

"Emergency at Hoag Hospital."

Across the parking lot; Quagmire and Sky stood by the limousine while Trixie napped in the back of the car.

"Dude. Me thinks Miss Mary there's got it bad for the glue," Sky annouced to Quagmire.

Quagmire gave him a stern look.

"You're wrong, sir. Moo Moo only resorts to glue when her heart's broken; and it's routinely broken. And, it's not always glue. Sometimes it's gasoline. Sometimes it's nail polish remover or Liquid Paper. She's also been known to light her hair on fire; those are truly difficult days, to be sure. I've seen her shoplift, burn herself with cigarettes, pluck all of her eyebrows out and smash her thumbs with a hammer. Just last month, she exposed herself in front of a group of Korean tourists. I've never seen so many camera flashes."

"Flashes?!" Sky laughed.

Quagmire looked confused.

"Get it? Flashes? . . Mary flashed the Koreans and then they flashed their cameras back at her. Get it? Flashes?" Sky continued.

Quagmire, unamused, continued.

"In fairness, I must confess that she's been known to expose herself even when she's happy; but all the other of her self-destructive behaviors arise from great pain and sadness."

"Dude," Sky said as he put his arm around Quagmire's shoulders, "If I didn't know better I'd say someone's got it bad for Miss Moo Moo."

Quagmire hung his head and answered, "Perhaps you are correct. I would love to take her in my arms and protect her from all harm."

Sky massaged his shoulders and replied, "Dude. If I were you I'd steer way clear of this chick. It sounds like she's nothing but a bag of trouble!"

Quagmire abruptly pulled himself away and stood erect; and in a most dignified tone responded, "NO! You are wrong, sir. Moo Moo is not a, how you say, bag of trouble. No! She is a precious flower in need of the sunshine and the rain. She is a wounded animal crying in the wilderness; calling out for mercy from the pain she's been made to feel. She is a motherless child longing only for the tenderest touch."

Quagmire's homage to Mary was interrupted by loud moaning coming from across the parking lot. They looked over just in time to watch an incoherent Mary throw up all over one of the emergency techs as they loaded her into the ambulance.

Not missing a beat, Quagmire looked back to Sky and continued, "She is the most delicate and fine china which has been abused and used in the most common of ways. She is a jewel of great beauty that has been trampled underfoot. She is . . . "

"Alright, alright. I get it, I get it! You're crazy about her," Sky said, rolling his eyes.

Quagmire put his cupped hand up to his ear and asked, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Sky replied.

"Shhh!"

Quagmire walked to the driver's side door and opened it.

"Oh. It's my cellphone. It's beeping. I must have a message," he announced as he reached in and grabbed his phone off the dashboard.

"Whatever," Sky mumbled as he opened the back door of the limousine and climbed in next to Trixie who was still sleeping.

As he slipped his arm around her and pulled her close to him she awoke and smiled.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Sky whispered as he kissed her forehead.

"Hey, handsome," Trixie replied as she snuggled into his chest.

Outside, Quagmire listened to the angry, violent message that Mayhem had left on his phone.

"Dumbass," he mumbled as he pushed "7" to erase it and then, going to his contact list, he scrolled down to "Master" and pushed "Send."

With Haywire at the wheel, the Mercedes limousine carrying Mayhem was racing south along Pacific Coast Highway. In back, Mayhem was blasting "Born To Be Wild" and playing air guitar as Quagmire's call came through. With the music so loud he was unable to hear the phone ring.

As Mayhem's voicemail prompted Quagmire to leave a message, he left the following:

"This is Quagmire, Master. I'm returning your call. Judging by the sound of it, you were not happy when you left your message. Let me start by reminding you of what day it is. It's Wednesday . . . Wednesday. Now, do you remember last week when I told you to mark you calendar for Tuesday, which was yesterday? Do you remember what I told you about Tuesday? If not, let me refresh your memory. I told you last week to make sure and not forget that Tuesday was Mary's birthday, remember? And you know how she is about her birthday. Well, it's now Wednesday and you've forgotten her birthday. This is why she's gone off the deep end and not kept to your original plan. Call me when you get this message."

In back of the limousine, Sky and Trixie continued to make small talk.

"I had the most amazing dream!" Trixie squealed.

"Oh, yeah? What about?" Sky asked.

"I dreamed that you and I were married and celebrating our fiftieth wedding anniversary."

"FIFTIETH?" Sky asked.

"Yeah. Fifty years."

"Oh my gosh. We must've looked pretty old and disgusting!" Sky added.

Trixie laughed.

"No, not really. Actually, we both looked pretty good!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

P.S. Yesterday; Tuesday, July 28th was actually Mary Haley's birthday (in real life!). HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARY!!!

Episode 36

2009-07-23T11:57:00.001-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

E V I L

.
.
.
.

POSSESSING A HEART DEVOID OF COMPASSION

SEEKING ONLY TO DOMINATE & DESTROY

CONSUMED OF UNBRIDLED WRATH & ANGER

Mayhem set out to reclaim that which he considered his.

Along with evil, Mayhem traded liberally in deception; consequently, he never set foot outside of his home without the benefit of costume.

Storming down to the auto garage, he located Haywire; Quagmire's mentally disturbed, psychotic son.

"Bring around the silver Pullman . . NOW! NOW!! Do it NOW!" Mayhem commanded.

As the insane simpleton pulled the car around, Mayhem climbed in back; took out his cellphone and dialed Quagmire's number.

Outraged at his inability to reach him, he left the following message:

"This is your master speaking! I've just received word that Mary has not kept to our original plan. (Blood-curdling scream) I hold you completely responsible and do you know what that means? It means that right after I bludgeon sweet little Mary to death I will turn my wrath upon you! (More screams) And when the two of you are reduced to mushy, pulp-like flesh, bone and organs, I will gleefully feed what's left of you to the jackals! (More screams) Call me, I'm beside myself with worry."

All the fury of hell was unleashed as the limousine roared away from the hillside mansion and descended on the unsuspecting world below.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 35

2009-07-17T09:01:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

The V.I. bar was populated by the usual handful of regulars and tended by an increasingly worried Cindy.

"Hey, Jim - what time do you have?" she asked one of the locals at the bar.

Jim Ferguson, a long-time island resident, had stopped in the V.I. as he walked back home from the post office. He looked at his watch and replied, "Ah . . let's see - it's 5:45."

Cindy was surprised that it was so late.

"Thanks, Jim. Another vodka cranberry?"

"No, thanks. I just wanted to stop by and say hello. I better get home."

As she cashed out Jim's tab she couldn't help but worry. Mary was supposed to be in at 5:00 to cover Ken's shift and, on top of that, she had not been able to reach Ken to ask why he gave his shift away in the first place. Her intuition told her something was very wrong.

After checking on everyone at the bar she slipped in back to speak with Trudy who was working late.

"Hey, Trudy. Did you ever get a chance to talk to Ken about why he gave his shift away?'

Looking up from her computer she responded, "I completely forgot. I meant to give him a call this morning."

"Well, it just worries me and, also, Mary was supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago."

Trudy twisted her watch on her wrist and checked the time.

"Oh crap. I better give her a call too. This isn't like her."

"I know," Cindy replied. "How 'bout you call Mary and I'll call Ken."

"Perfect."

With that, they each picked up a phone and placed their respective calls.

Meanwhile, across town and high above the city, Mayhem sat in his obnoxiously orange, mid-century modern kitchen eating a bowl of blood sausage and calve's liver as a cellphone sitting on the counter began to ring.

Startled, he set down the bowl, crossed over to the counter and looked at the caller I.D. Seeing that the call was from the Village Inn he let it go to voicemail. Once the phone signaled, he picked it up and retrieved the following message:

"Hey, Ken. It's Cindy from the V.I. Hi honey . . just calling to see if everything's o.k. with you. Trudy and I were just a little worried since we hadn't heard from you and, to tell you the truth, we were a little surpised that you gave your shift away to Mary. I mean . . . well, just because we thought you were a little concerned about finances right now. But . . anyway. Hope everythings alright and, oh . . by the way, Mary's late. In fact Trudy's trying to get a hold of her right now. That's not like her, either. Hope she's o.k. too. Alright, I'll talk to you soon. Love you!"

Mayhem became enraged and threw the phone across the room.

Meanwhile, back in Costa Mesa; Mary insisted that their first stop be her friend's shop, Blue Springs Home.

As Quagmire pulled into the parking lot, Mary filled Trixie and Sky in on the reason for stopping there.

"This is one of the most beautiful shops in the whole world and it's owned by my dearest friend in the world, Susan. You guys are going to love her - we've known each other for years!"

Susan Ellison: elegant, lovely, refined and gracious; was restocking linens when she caught a glimpse of this peculiar trio heading for the door of her shop.

"What on earth . . .?" she mumbled to herself. "Is the circus in town?"

The first to enter was Trixie in her pink, frilly, full-length evening dress and huge helmet-like hairdo; followed by Sky in his Arab get-up.

Struggling to keep a straight face - Susan approached the two of them.

"Good afternoon, how are you?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Trixie answered as she looked around at the merchandise.

"Nice joint ya got here," Sky added as he scanned the shop and chomped on a Slim Jim.

"Why, thank you. Anything in particular you're looking for?" Susan asked.

"Yeah. I'm lookin' for dinner and a place to go dancing," Sky said sarcastically.

Trixie elbowed him and laughed.

"Don't listen to him. "We're here with Mary."

Susan looked puzzled.

"Mary?" she asked.

"Yeah, Mary," Trixied replied as she turned and pointed toward the door.

At that very moment Mary bounded through the door of the shop.

"SUSAN!" she yelled as she ran to her - arms outstretched.

Susan smiled a genuine smile as she hugged her old friend. She was always happy to see Mary and had been worried recently since she hadn't heard from her in quite some time, but having Mary show up unannounced at her place of business was always a little disconcerting.

After releasing Susan from from an awkwardly long embrace, Mary twirled around several times and proclaimed, "Oh my god! I'm loving what you've done with the shop!"

Susan laughed, nervously, and thanked her, but couldn't help noticing that Mary seemed more hyper and animated than she ever had before. It was like a scene out of a Fellini film, Susan thought, as she watched the three of them.

Trixie stood in front of a rack of expensive pillows; pulling one after another down - squeezing and then smelling each one before putting them back.

When Sky asked her what she was doing, her response was, "I just love to squeeze pretty, fluffy things."

Sky laughed and put his arm around her waist; pulling her tightly against himself.

"So do I, baby," he whispered in her ear. "That's my girl and that's why I love her," he said as he looked at Susan and winked. "But who's your main squeeze?" he asked as he looked back at Trixie.

Unimpressed, she hauled off and smacked him in the face with a Shabby Chic kidney pillow before barking, "Back off, Romeo!"

Susan stared in disbelief then turned to Mary.

"Uh . . Mary . . . dear. You haven't introduced me to your friends."

Mary stopped and looked a bit confused.

"I didn't?"

"No, you didn't."

With that, Trixie put back the most recent pillow she'd been molesting; walked over and extended her hand to Susan.

"Hey, Susie! I'm Trixie."

Susan shook her hand.

"Well, it's certainly a pleasure, Trixie, but I prefer Susan."

"Whatever," Trixie said as she turned and walked back over to the rack of pillows. "Loverboy here's name is Hank," she added as she pointed at Sky.

Sky walked over to Susan. He placed the Slim Jim he was carrying in his mouth and then extended his greasy right hand.

"Nice to know ya," he said as they shook hands.

Mary walked over and apologized.

"I'm so sorry I forgot to introduce you guys," she said and then proceeded to cross her legs, bounce up and down and announce, "Susan, I've gotta go potty."

Susan laughed and pointed toward the back of the store.

"Of course, go - You know where it is."

Mary scurried away leaving Susan alone with the Saudi reject and his "throwback to the sixties" girlfriend. And, as if that wasn't bad enough; Susan was horrified as she watched Sky join Trixie at the pillow rack and begin pawing through her assortment of pillows with his greasy, Slim Jim hands.

The clumsy silence was finally broken when Susan asked, "So, how do you two know Mary?"

Sky and Trixie both continued riffling through the pillows, and without looking away, Trixie replied, "Oh, we don't really know Mary. We just met her a few minutes ago up the street in the liquor store parking lot."

Susan was mortified. She'd always been tolerant of Mary's unconventional ways but this was just too much. She began to wonder how she could gracefully get Mary and her new-found "friends" out of her shop.

"I'll be right back," she announced.

Sky and Trixie did not respond as Susan headed to the back of the store to have a word with Mary.

Approaching the restroom, she noticed the door was open. As she got closer she called softly, "Mary."

Suddenly, a tube of glue came out of the bathroom, sliding across the floor, followed by a dazed and disoriented Mary. Without even acknowledging Susan's presence, she got down and crawled across the floor in an effort to retrieve the intoxicant.

Susan turned in horror and headed back into the shop only to find the other two sprawled out across a display bed covered in beautiful linens, wallowing and writhing in passion.

Thankfully, they were both completely clothed.

TUNE NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 34

2009-06-16T09:21:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

Sky emerged from Baycrest Liquor with his cigarettes and a pack of Slim Jims to find Trixie gone.

As he looked in the window of the empty car a voice called out from across the parking l0t.

"Hey, Abdul! Over here!"

It was Quagmire and he'd been instructed to watch for Sky and direct him over to the limousine.

With great caution and his bedsheets flapping in the breeze; Sky made his way over.

"My name's not Abdul," he informed Quagmire as he looked in the Mercedes where he found Mary and Trixie in the back seat talking fashion.

"Love the shoes," Trixie said to Mary.

"These?" Mary asked as she twisted her feet from side to side. "They're Italian; 'TiramiShoes.'

"Well, I just love them!" Trixie squealed.

As the two of them realized Sky was standing outside the car, Trixie called out, "Hi, sweetie - did you get your cigarettes?"

Mary smiled and extended her hand, "Hello. I'm Mary and judging by the way you're dressed I'm betting you smoke Camels."

Sky shook her hand and looked at Trixie, "Yes, I got my cigarettes . . ." then looked back at Mary, " . . and; NO, I don't smoke Camels or even ride them for that matter."

Sky was surprised that Mary did not recognize him as she'd waited on him at the V.I. many times before - perhaps his diguise was more effective than he'd first thought.

Quagmire walked to the back of the car to finish putting away the jack and the flat tire while Mary opened the door and invited Sky to join her and Trixie in the back of the limousine.

"Come on, honey," Trixie said. "Doesn't Mary have the coolest car?!

Sky was reticent and Mary sensed it.

"What A-rab wouldn't want to ride in one of these?" Mary asked.

"I'm not an A-rab - this is a costume," Sky insisted.

Mary ignored his response and instead, grabbed for his other purchase.

"Oh baby! Are those Slim Jims?"

Sky pulled the package away from her reach.

"HEY! Hands off my processed meat sticks!"

Mary folded her arms and stuck out her lower lip like a pouting child and then giggled, "Oh you men and your packaged meat! You keep it all to yourself and never want to share. Come on, honey, get in and we'll go for a ride!"

Now it was Sky's turn to act like a child as he folded his arms, turned his head and barked, "NO! I don't want to."

Trixie was growing irritated by Sky's unseemly behavior and decided it was time to set him straight.

"I'll be right back," she said to Mary as she exited the car. Walking around the back she called out, "Hank! Get over here!"

Sky was caught off guard by her assertiveness and high-tailed it over to meet her.

"Yes, Trix - what is it?"

Trixie grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him toward her until they were face to face.

"Listen you Bedouin blow-hard! This chick is awesome and she's got a bitchin' car. And, if she had bigger hair I'd want to be just like her. Now, she wants us to go for a ride with her and we're going . . . GOT IT?"

Sky looked like a scolded child as he replied, "But . . I thought we were going to Mimi's and then dancing."

Trixie released her death grip and began to straighten his shirt.

"There's plenty of time for that, sweetheart, and if we play our cards right, perhaps we can do those things in this car . . are ya feelin' me?"

Sky stared at her for a moment as he processed, 'are ya feelin' me?' Where, exactly, did that come from, he wondered, and then he smiled and said, "O.k., you groovy chick - whatever you say."

Trixie clapped her hands, jumped up and down and threw her arms around him as she squealed, "Oh, goody!"

"O.k., o.k. Let's get going if we're going," Sky said as he pulled away from Trixie and opened the limousine door for her.

Trixie began to enter the limo then suddenly looked back and asked, "Do you really think I'm groovy?"

Sky smiled and replied, "You're the grooviest. Now get in there!"

Trixie giggled and climbed in back as Sky followed her and sat in the jump seat.

He was immediately startled by Mary who seemed completely unfazed by the fact that he and Trixie had entered the car while she had a tube of Testor's model glue up to her nose; and after several big whiffs, she placed the cap back on the tube and put it in her purse.

Trixie's reaction was quite different as she dug through her purse and pulled out the tip of a finger nail.

"Oh, Mary is that glue? I broke a nail earlier; may I borrow that for a moment?"

"Sure, sweetie," Mary said as she retrieved the glue from her bag and handed it to her.

Sky watched in silent awe as this peculiar exchange took place and only looked away as Quagmire opened the front door, climbed into the driver's seat and fired up the engine.

Looking back, he found Mary staring at him intensely.

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere? You look real familiar."

Sky held his breath as he thought about how to respond. Mary would know him as Sky, not Hank and he desparately wanted to avoid having to explain that conflict. He decided on a clumsy distraction tactic as he pointed out the window.

"There's Trixie's car," he said as they passed Michelle's Sentra.

Mary turned and looked.

"Oh, that's nice," she responded and then looking at Trixie she asked, "Are you an artist?"

Trixie smiled proudly and replied, "Why, yes. I am a purveyor of the art of dance."

"That's nice, but you're a painter; right?"

Neither Trixie nor Sky understood what she meant.

"Trixie is a truly gifted dancer," Sky replied, "but as far as I know, she doesn't paint; do you, honey?"

"No I don't . Why do you ask, Mary?"

Mary pointed out the window.

"Your license plate. It says 'lacquer love' and I just assumed that meant you were a painter."

Trixie was confused but Sky could not control his laughter.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 33

2009-06-15T09:16:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Quagmire pulled the limousine over the sidewalk and off the curb. As he did, he felt something wasn't quite right with the Mercedes.

Although advanced in age, his instinctive sense of automobiles had never waned.

As they drove away from the park, Mary called out, "Quagmire - we still have some time so head over to 17th Street. I want to stop by my favorite shop."

Mary's favorite shop happened to be in Costa Mesa at 369 E. 17th St. It was called Blue Springs Home.

Years before, Mary had been sent away to reform school in Blue Springs, Alabama. When she was just twelve years old, it was at that very school, The Margery Sage School for Nervous, Naughty & just plain Nasty Girls, that she'd first met Susan, the girl who would one day grow up to be the owner of Blue Springs Home.

Susan had grown up in Blue Springs and often traveled to the Margery Sage School with her church choir to sing for the wayward girls. It was during one of those visits that Susan first met and took pity upon young Mary, and a friendship was formed that would continue for the next thirty years.

As the limousine made its way through Newport Heights, Quagire became more certain that there was a problem and as he turned from Santa Ana Avenue onto 17th Street the problem became apparent. Even Mary could feel it.

"Hey, Quagmire. What the heck's wrong with the car?"

"I believe we have a flat tire, Moo Moo," he replied.

"Oh crap! Are you kidding?"

Quagmire did not answer, but slowly maneuvered the vehicle off the street and into the parking lot of Pancakes R Us.

Mary put down her window and stuck her head out of the car.

"Pancakes R Us? What happened to ihop?" she asked.

Again, he didn't answer but brought the car to a stop and got out to check the tire.

"Is it flat?" Mary called out.

Staring at the completely deflated left rear tire, he answered, "Yep. Flat as a pancake."

Mary plopped down in the back seat; folded her arms and began to pout.

"Great! This is just great!" she whined.

Quagmire walked over and stuck his head in her open window.

"You just relax, little missy. Uncle Quagmire will have it fixed in no time."

With that, he walked around to the trunk and opened it. He removed the jack and the spare tire about the same time that Sky and Trixie Louise came roaring into the Bay Crest Liquor parking lot next door. With the radio blarring, "I Will Survive," Trixie sat in the car while Sky jumped out to buy a pack of cigarettes.

Mary stuck her head out of the car again and asked Quagmire, "Hey, where's that music coming from?"

He pointed across the parking lot to Michelle's Nissan Sentra with Trixie sitting inside.

Mary opened the back door of the car and announced, "Oh my god! I love that song . . . I will survive, hey hey, I will survive!" she began to sing as she stepped out; and walking toward the Sentra, she called out, "Hey . . . excuse me, Miss!"

Trixie was lucky to hear her calling over the hideously loud music and the moment that was about to happen would prove to be nothing short of magical. Wacky Trixie would soon meet nutty Mary and nothing would ever be the same.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

P.S. Although this story is fiction - Blue Springs Home is not. Please stop by sometime and say 'hi' to my dear friend, Susan Ellison, the proprietor. Also, checkout their website: www.bluespringshome.com

MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR

2009-06-13T12:05:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who faithfully reads MY V.I. (a soap opera).

I also want to thank Brianna Bailey (intrepid Daily Pilot reporter) who's article about my blog helped put it on the map.

I've been thinking lately about the fact that many of you may have no idea that the original story called MY V.I. began on a Caringbridge website (Personalized websites that connect loved ones during critical illness, treatment and recovery) which was set up by Trudy Hayes, beloved V.I. book-keeper (and so much more!) for her equally beloved husband, David, while he was in the hospital approximately a year and a half ago.

After David had to go and get well! - a few patrons and employees of the V.I. suggested that I continue writing the fictional, episodic story about the adventures (and misadventures) of various (real and fictional) V.I. characters. The result of that suggestion is the blog you are currently reading.

Another purpose of this message is to let those of you who might have no other way of knowing the "inside story" behind some of these episodes 'in' on why some of what I write about the V.I. is funny, ironic or matters at all.

First of all: Cindy, Michelle, Trudy, Chrystal, Spencer, Fermin and Mary Haley are all real people and employees of the Village Inn. And the 'Ken' I refer to occasionally is none other than your's truly.

I mention actual patrons from time to time; such as: Ryan, Bucky, Corona Bob and Barbara (the dance nazi). And, entire episodes have been written (with his permission) about Sky Bingham who is an actual person and patron.

Although the situations that I write these people into are completely fictional; sometimes there is a thread of truth or irony running through the story lines.

Here is a run down (12 episodes) of inside information that may help readers understand why something might be funny, ironic or matter at all:

Episode 1

A. The only thing harder to talk over than a loud band at the V.I. is the even louder dishwashing machine!

B. A little inside joke between Michelle and I: "This is a weird night!" To which the other replies, "They're all weird!"

C. At the time this episode was written, Trudy was in the process of changing the music schedule at the V.I. and booking new bands. Some of them we had never heard play until the night they performed in the lounge which, occasionally, lead to a few surprises (and, occasionally, trouble).

D. Every now and then, one of these new bands turned out to be way too loud and met with the unbridled disapproval of our host of regulars.

E. Peta & the Tree Huggers are completely fictional (I hope).

Episode 2

A. Ryan, beloved regular, makes an appearance.

B. The whole 'braid' thing relates to the fact that Michelle often wears her long red hair in braids.

Episode 3

A. Charmaine; who is completely fictional, is introduced.

Episode 4

A. This episode is complete fiction about Charmaine.

Episode 5

A. The V.I. does offer 'bottomless champagne' for $7.00 during Sunday Brunch.

B. Cindy has often been heard saying, "I can't deal with this!"

Episode 6

A. Simza, the crazy Gypsy, is introduced and is fictional.

B. The reason Cindy says she's gonna "kill Chrystal" after Spencer says he has an order for Bahama Mamas and Blue Hawaiians is because Chrystal had actually re-worked the drink menu days before this was written and she decided to randomly throw on these two rather labor intensive cocktails for fun (much to the chagrin of the bartenders).

Episode 7

A. Sky Bingham (actual person & patron) is written into the drama in a very fictional way.

Episode 8

A. Burning the popcorn is mentioned because, no matter how hard we try, we always manage to burn the popcorn!

B. Bilge (as in bilge pump) Donahue; a completely fictional character, is introduced.

C. Bucky; a beloved regular, is mentioned.

Episode 9

A. I describe Cindy as a "nurturing, caring, mother hen" because, well - she is!

Episode 10

A. Complete fiction with another mention of Bucky (V.I. patron).

Episode 11

A. This short episode is complete and utter nonsense (fiction) about Charmaine.

Episode 12

A. This is the episode that drew the attention of Brianna Bailey, reporter for the Daily Pilot. The reason was my use of the then 'hot' topic of underground utilities on the Island.

B. Olga Renderklott is introduced and is completely fictional. I had also used her in the original MY V.I. story on the Caringbridge site.

O.k. I won't take you through all 32 episodes today, but thought you might enjoy a little insider information regarding MY V.I. (a soap opera).

Also, I've included a photograph (above) of myself that makes me appear far more dark, mysterious and introspective than I really am. More fiction!

thanks again for reading! ken

Episode 32

2009-06-12T10:12:00.000-07:00

MY V.I
(a soap opera)

Sky was both excited and anxious as he sat in Michelle's living room waiting for Trixie to emerge from the bedroom dressed for their big night out.

Trixie called out, "Close your eyes, darling!"

"My eyes are closed, love bunny," Sky sang back.

Trixie Louise slunk into the living room dressed in a get up that could only be described as: tawdry, tasteless, and tacky.

"Keep 'em closed, honey," she said as she reclined on blanket-draped chair.

With her legs sticking straight up in the air; she whispered, "O.k. Open your eyes."

Sky opened his eyes and his smile slipped away.

"Wow," he mumbled.

"What do you think, sweetie?" Trixie asked.

Sky knew he had to choose his words wisely.

"Don't you think you might get a little chilly dressed like that?"

Her smile turned into a pout.

"You don't like it," she whined.

"No . . . it's not that I don't like it, sweetheart. It's just that it's . . . it's . . "

"Too sexy?" Trixie asked.

Sky smiled and held up his thumb and index finger, "Maybe just a little."

With that, Trixie swung her legs around and placed her feet on the ground. Standing up she announced, "Not a problem. I've got just the outfit."

"That's a girl." Sky said as she vanished back into the bedroom.

Spotting a large mirror across the room - Sky walked over to inspect his costume. Noticing how wrinkled his stolen sheets had become he called to Trixie, "Hey, Trix!"

Trixie poked her head out the bedroom door, "Yes, dear."

"Hey, have you got an iron? I need to press my outfit."

"Sure, honey. Look in the hall closet. There's an iron and an ironing board in there."

Sky walked down the hall and retrieved the iron and the ironing board and commenced pressing his sheets.

It wasn't long before the whole routine began again:

"O.k., darling. Close your eyes!" Trixie called out.

"O.k. My eyes are closed; come on out."

There was a flurry of rustling fabric and an occasional "damn it" as Trixie struggled to make her way back into the living room. Sky couldn't help but peek.

Finally, she announced, "O.k. You can look now."

Sky was speechless. He looked like a little boy as he tilted his head back and forth and stared in shock and awe.

"Well! What do you think?" Trixie asked. "It's not too sexy, right?"

Once again, Sky knew that it was essential to choose his words wisely.

"Hmm . . well . . . No, it's not too sexy. In fact, sex is the last thing that comes to mind. I'm sort of reminded of Christmas. Actually . . . . . you look like a Christmas tree!"

Trixie stomped her feet and ran back into the bedroom.

"You hate it. It's obvious that I no long appeal to you!" she screamed as she slammed the door.

Sky dropped the iron and ran to the locked bedroom door.

Knocking; he beseeched her, "Sweetheart! Don't be like that. You look beautiful but, it's just not quite what I had in mind for you."

"GO AWAY!" she yelled back.

"Now, honey. Listen; what I was hoping for was a more sophisticated look since Pierce Street is such a swanky place. And . . . I really like when you wear the big hair - you know - like you used to."

There was a long moment of silence and then . . .

"You really like my hair big like I like it?" Trixie asked from behind the door.

"Of course I do," Sky answered. "That's the Trixie I fell in love with."

He could tell she was crying as she sniffled and blew her nose.

"So . . . Trix?" he said.

"Yeah," she responded.

"You think you can do that. I mean, sophisticated with big hair?"

She hesitated for a moment and then answered, "O.k. . . . Yeah, I can do it. Go back in the living room and wait for me. I'll be out in a minute."

Sky smiled and answered, "That's my girl. Now don't be long."

Sky walked back out to the living room as Trixie sat down on the edge of the bed and began to think.

"So . . . he wants a sophisticated look with big hair . . . hmm, let's see what we can do."

Sky paced back and forth for a while and then knocked on the bedroom door.

"Hey, sweethheart."

It took a moment before she answered from behind the door.

"Almost done dear," she called back.

"Oh no . . take your time. I was just wondering if you wanted to grab dinner before we hit the dance floor."

"Sounds great. I'm famished," Trixie replied.

"O.k. So what sounds good - you pick."

Trixie thought for a moment then answered, "You know, I have no idea why, but lately I've been craving Mimi's Cafe. Weird, huh?"

"That's not weird at all - I love Mimi's."

"Perfect." she said, "Now go back into the living room and close your eyes - I'm ready."

Once again Sky walked back into the living room and sat on the sofa.

"O.k.!" he said, "I've got my eyes closed. Come on out, good looking."

He could hear the bedroom door open and the gentle sound of her approaching footsteps. Trixie stood in the doorway that lead into the living room and struck a dramatic pose.

In a low, soft voice she whispered, "Get a load'a this, lover."

Slowly, Sky opened his eyes and raised his lowered head. As he cast his eyes upon her his breath was taken away . . . .

Trixie winked at him and smiled.

"You like?"

Sky could barely speak but managed to utter, "Oh yes . . . I like very much."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 31

2009-06-10T23:07:00.001-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Mary directed Quagmire to make a left turn off of Pacific Coast Highway onto Riverside Drive in Newport Beach.

"Take me to that park, Quagmire. You know the one - it's beyond the post office and it looks out over the bay. We're way too early so let's kill some time."

"Yes, Moo Moo," Quagmire replied.

He called her Moo Moo for no particular reason other than he liked it and she never objected. As they approached the park he hopped the curb and pulled the sanguine behemoth onto the grass.

"This is perfect; stop right here," Mary called out.

Quagmire stopped the car and turned off the engine.

"I've got an idea." Mary squealed as she unstrapped the Berretta pistol from her thigh. Opening her purse, she pulled out a long black silencer and attached it to the end of the gun. She rolled down the rear passenger side window and scanned the vast green lawn and surrounding scrubbery.

"DIE VERMIN!" she yelled as she pointed the gun out the window and fired four shots; killing two ground squirrels.

"Ah yes . . . the thrill of the hunt," she sighed to Quagmire. "Too bad I'm vegetarian. Why don't you take those home to your wife?"

Quagmire retrieved a plastic bag from the glove box and got out of the car to collect the dead rodents. He would take them home to his wife, as he always did. She was an elderly shut-in and a passionate amateur taxidermist.

"Well, that was fun," Mary mumbled to herself and then leaned out the window and yelled to Quagmire, "Come on! Get the lead out, shake a leg, get a move on - let's go!"

Quagmire bagged the squirrels and scurried back to the limousine.

Meanwhile, over in Costa Mesa; Trixie Louise and Sky were racing toward Michelle's apartment - laughing and singing to the radio.

Sky reached over and turned the volume down.

"Hey! What're you doing?" Trixie asked.

"Well, I just wanted to decide on someplace to go. You want to go dancing, right?"

"Absolutely! I was made for dancing."

"O.k. So, why don't we stop by your place and you change into the best dress you've got 'cause I'm gonna take you to the fanciest dance place in town." Sky replied.

"The fanciest place in town?" Trixie swooned.

"Of course! Only the best for my sugar-puss."

"Oh, that sounds dreamy! What's it called?" Trixie asked.

"Well. Have you ever heard of Pierce Street Annex?"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 30

2009-06-09T11:18:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

One of Mary Haley's favorite parts about belonging to Mayhem was the fact that she had access to his collection of classic Mercedes 600 Pullman Limousines.

Today, she was in a "red" mood and

so she called down to have the driver pull around the colossal, crimson cruiser.

The driver, known only as Uncle Quagmire, pulled up to the front of the house and opened the back door to allow Mary access to the vintage "lap" of German luxury.

She sauntered out the front door, shamelessly swinging her latest gift from Mayhem - a Valentino Rose Vertigo bag. Mary felt that it showed he truly loved her although, deep down, she suspected it might be a breathtaking knock-off.

She was uncharacteristically haughty as she sailed past the driver, and without the slightest eye contact mumbled, "Thank you, Quagmire."

Her door was shut and Quagmire took his seat behind the wheel and fired-up the massive engine. They were on their way.

Back on the Island; Brianna Bailey was saying her goodbyes to Charmaine following their interview for the Daily Pilot.

"Thanks again, Charmaine. I'll e-mail you and let you know when the story will run," Brianna said as she and her photographer stepped out of the V.I. and onto the sidewalk.

"Well, thank you, Brianna. I'm really looking forward to reading it," Charmaine returned.

Brianna and the photographer began walking down the sidewalk toward their cars.

"She's a very nice young lady," Brianna said.

"Yeah, well I find it hard to believe that she could find her way out of a paperbag - she seems dumb as a box of rocks, to me," the photographer replied.

Brianna playfully slapped his arm as they stepped into the crosswalk.

"That's not very nice!"

They were both laughing as they reached the middle of the crosswalk. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, came a four-door Nissan Sentra with the radio blaring "It's Raining Men," which nearly ran them over as it roared past.

"Are you kidding me!?" the photographer yelled as he pushed Brianna out of the way.

"Get the license plate number!" Brianna called out.

Unfortunately, they were only able to give the police the following description:

"Victims stated that late model, four-door Japanese car with 'crazy' red-headed female driver and middle eastern looking man wearing Arab garb nearly ran them over in crosswalk at Marine and Park."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 29

2009-06-08T23:22:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Wednesday afternoon found Charmaine and Cindy sitting in the office of the Village Inn chatting about all the amazing events that had taken place over the past couple of days.

Charmaine had become quite the celebrity and Brianna Bailey, a reporter for the Daily Pilot, had contacted the V.I. requesting an interview with her about how she had recognized and reported to America's Most Wanted one of their most sought after fugitives.

"So what time is this reporter supposed to be here?" Cindy asked.

"Well, I told her that we didn't open until 3:00 p.m. and I'm a little early," Charmaine replied.

While the girls waited in the office, a peculiar figure passed by out front and took notice of the fact that the V.I. door was propped open. It was Sky Bingham dressed as an Arab Sheik.

After he'd fled the V.I. the day before to avoid the police, he made his way down to the laundromat on Agate and swiped a bunch of sheets out of a dryer which he used to improvise a disguise but, unfortunately, not before he used them to wrap up in as he spent the night on the beach. The now wrinkled and dirty sheets rendered him a rather "Shabby Sheik."

Sky knew that Cindy worked on Wednesday and was thrilled to find the V.I. door ajar before 3:00. He quietly opened the door and looked inside. There was no one behind the bar so he went in and headed for the double kitchen doors that lead to the office.

As he approached the kitchen doors he heard two voices in back and stopped in his tracks to listen.

"I've been thinking about what you told me about Michelle and Trixie Louise," Charmaine said.

"Yeah, well. What ever you do - don't repeat that. You, me, Michelle and Trudy are the only ones who know the truth about it," Cindy replied.

Sky was intrigued by what he heard and moved closer to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Oh - I wouldn't breathe a word of it. But what fascinates me about it is that she only turns into this Trixie character when she hits her head - right?" Charmaine asked.

"Yeah. Everytime she's become this other personality. . . Trixie, it's after she's bumped her head. Like I told you: first it was on the ship and a couple of times it has happened when she was drunk and fell and this last time, I'm guessing, was caused by that fight on Saturday. Weird, huh?"

"You're not kidding. That's the strangest story ever."

Sky had heard all he needed to hear and so he slipped out of the V.I. and made his way down Marine Ave. to the South Bayfront. Taking a seat on a bench facing the bay, he pulled out his cellphone and placed a call.

"Hey, Michelle - Sky. How's it going?"

Michelle said she was fine and Sky continued.

"I'm in a really tough spot right now and I was wondering if you could come by here for a minute. I have something very, very important to tell you."

Michelle asked him what it was but he insisted that he had to tell her face to face.

"I'm dressed as an Arab, if you can believe that, and I'm sitting on the bench at the end of Marine Ave. facing the South Bayfront. Will you please come . . . quickly? Please!"

Michelle reluctantly agreed to come right over.

Meanwhile, across town and high above the city; Mary Haley was putting the finishing touches on her makeup and wedging her ample bosom into her black tube top as Mayhem barged into the room and came up behind her.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and nibbled on her earlobe. His hot breath reeked of expensive scotch and flamin' hot Cheetos as he whispered in her ear.

"Does Daddy's little naughty-puss have everything he gave her to take to work?"

Mary spun around in his arms and planted a passionate kiss on his angry lips.

"I've got the Beretta strapped to my thigh and the camera's in my shoe, baby," she replied.

Putting his hands ever so gently around her neck he asked, "An where's the stick of dynamite?"

Pushing his hands away, she smiled and said, "Oh, I've got it. Let's just say it's safe and out of sight."

Grabbing her by the waist; he pulled her tightly against himself.

"I ought to dismember you but I just don't know what I'd do without you. Go to pieces, I suppose."

He thought for a second and then threw his head back and laughed maniacally.

"Get it? Dismember you . . . go to pieces!"

As he continued laughing, Mary found his laughter infectious and soon she was laughing as hard as he.

Back on the Island; Sky spotted Michelle's car as she parked on Marine Ave. Running up along the passenger side he knocked on the window and scared the daylights out of her.

Rolling down the window she said, "Oh my god, Sky. You scared the crap out of me. What's with the crazy get up anyway?"

Sky got in the car and closed the door.

"It's my disguise," he informed her.

"Dude - you look like Osama bin Laden," she replied. "Now what's so urgent that I had to drive all the way over here on my day off, for god's sake."

Sky didn't say anything and became visably nervous as he began to look around the car.

"Dude, what the heck's wrong with you?" Michelle asked.

Scattered across the backseat of her car were several books and one with a blue and bright orange cover caught his attention and he grabbed it.

Pointing past Michelle and out her driver's side window he said, "Hey, isn't that Trudy?"

Michelle turned and looked and when she did Sky smacked the back of her head with the book.

She spun around immediately.

"What the hell?" she yelled.

When he realized that it hadn't worked he began swinging the book at her, and in an effort to avoid getting hit, Michelle threw her head back, and when she did she bumped it hard against the driver's side window.

The noise of her head hitting the window so startled Sky that he stopped swinging but he was delighted as he watched a dazed and confused Trixie Louise emerge before his eyes.

"Hank! Baby!" Trixie yelled. "I feel like dancing!" she squealed as she twisted the rear-view mirror down and took a look at herself. "Oh my god! What happened to my hair?!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 28

2009-06-04T00:09:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

"Oh my god!" Cindy screamed as she ran from behind the bar.

Trudy was just getting off the phone as Cindy bounded into the office and shoved her cellphone into Trudy's face.

"What's this?" Trudy asked.

"Read it," Cindy replied. "You're not going to believe it!"

Trudy took the cellphone and read the text message that Cindy was referring to:

"Cindy. . sorry 4 freakn out. Found out hickies were from corona bob!!!! Call u later - michelle"

"Oh, that's disgusting!" Trudy yelled.

"No wonder she was going crazy and had to leave," Cindy added.

"Yeah and no wonder Corona Bob was laying in the street!"

"I know; poor Bob. I kinda feel sorry for him," Cindy sighed.

"Poor Bob?! What about poor Michelle?" Trudy shot back.

"You're right," Cindy agreed.

Cindy took her phone back and was about to leave the office when Trudy said, "Oh, Cindy. I just got the weirdest phone call from Mary."

"Mary? Mary, Mary?" Cindy asked.

"Yes. Mary Haley."

"What's so weird about that?" Cindy asked.

"Well. Didn't you say that Ken was having money problems?"

"Well, I thought Ken might be having financial problems because Ryan said he saw him working on 17th St. in one of those cellphone costumes - you know - waving to people driving by. Why?"

"Well. Mary said that Ken didn't feel like working his shift Wednesday night and she was going to cover it for him. That's just not like him."

"That is kinda strange. He never just doesn't work his shifts and if he's having money trouble it really doesn't make any sense."

Meanwhile - across town and high above the city; Mayhem sat behind an enormous desk in his sumptuous office. With a panaramic view through the window behind him, he was on the phone and engaged in a passionate conversation.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I've got a plan that will bring about the revenge you've so desparately sought for so many years."

Mayhem swiveled around in his chair and looked out the huge glass wall of his office through which he could see the swimming pool and a stunning view of the city below. He stared at the beautiful young woman sunning herself on a lounge chair; her perfect, bronzed body glistening in the afternoon sun.

"Yes, I've found the perfect person," he continued, "and she's now my love zombie."

As he turned his chair back to the desk - he laughed, thunderously.

"Oh, it was easy. A couple of ruffies, a strict macrobiotic diet along with a rigorous, daily regimen of erotic pilates and I had her eating out of my hand. Not to mention the fact that she totally digs me."

His diabolical laughter reverberated throughout the house but went unnoticed by Mary Haley as she lay by the pool - his unwitting love zombie!

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 27

2009-05-27T09:06:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

Mary Haley hung up the phone and wandered back through the mid-century modern masterpiece.

The home belonged to a mysterious man that Mary knew simply as "Mayhem."

She continued through the house which was impeccably decorated with a tasteful mix of Mies van der Rohe, Baughman, Paul McCobb, Eames and Danish Modern furnishings. This ecclectic style wasn't her "cup of tea," but the owner certainly was.

Cruel, harsh and demanding; Mayhem was all of these, and he held Mary firmly in his dread sway.

Standing at the sliding glass door - she stared out at the monster that had forcibly stolen her heart. He was unaware of her spying as he sat by the pool, cleaning his semi-automatic pistol.

He was dark, handsome and strangely familiar. All that, combined with his enormous wealth and power, made him diabolically delicious in Mary's mind.

She had needed someone to take care of since her dear, Danny Bonaduce had flown east and left her behind. In Mayhem, she had stumbled across more than she could handle and she knew it, but she would worry about that tomorrow; right now she was too busy being in love with him.

Wearing only a red satin robe and a pair of leopard print mules; she stepped out onto the patio and called to him in a low, sexy voice, "Hello, lover."

He swung completely around and pointed the gun squarely at her.

"Damn it! I told you never to sneak up on me! You want me to blow your head off?"

Mary rushed over and sat at his feet. Placing her head in his lap she mumbled, "I'm sorry, sweetheart - I forgot."

He grabbed her hair, pulled her head up and looked her in the eyes.

"Did you make that phone call?"

Mary stared back and whispered, "Yes, baby. I called Trudy."

"And what did you tell her?"

"Just what you said. I told her that I'd be covering Ken's shift on Wednesday night . . . right?"

He tossed her aside and stood up. As he walked across the patio toward the house, Mary called out, "Right?! Wasn't that what you wanted me to say?! Baby, wasn't that what you wanted me to say?!"

Her desparate cries went unheeded as he opened the sliding glass door and disappeared inside the house.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 26

2009-05-16T00:23:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Since Sky's back was to the door, he was completely unaware of Michelle's presence as he pounded the bar with his fist and yelled, "Damn it, Cindy. I want to grow old with that girl!"

Surprised by his sudden outburst, Cindy quickly looked at Michelle, then looked at Sky, then back at Michelle.

Although she couldn't see Michelle's eyes due to her sunglasses, she knew exactly what she was thinking, "Should I stay or should I go? If I stay there will be trouble - if I go it will be double. You just gotta let me know - should I stay or should I go?" (Michelle loved The Clash).

Cindy brought the distraught Sky his drink and tried to comfort him.

"Here baby - drink this. It'll make you feel better . . come on, mommy knows best!"

He took a sip and smiled.

"Why are you so good to me?" he asked.

Cindy patted his hand and giggled, "Cause I'm crazy 'bout you, silly."

Michelle was feeling a bit ignored and when Cindy looked back over at her she had her hands on her hips as if to say, "Excuse me . . uh, help me out here!"

Cindy knew what her concern was; would Sky recognize her as Trixie? Cindy decided to make the call herself and let the chips fall where they may.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Cindy said as she motioned toward Michelle.

Sky swirled around on his barstool and greeted her, "Hey, Michelle. Are you hiding from someone? What's with the sunglasses and the hat?"

She might have found this funny were it not so ironic. Michelle pulled off her sunglasses as she walked toward bar and replied, "I've been sick."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Sky returned.

"Yeah, Michelle," Cindy said, "Sky's been telling me all about this perfect gal he met last night - weren't you, Sky?"

Michelle shot Cindy a look that was nothing short of homicidal as she walked behind the bar and put her purse away.

"Oh my god, Michelle," Sky exclaimed, "I think she's the one. Only problem is - I lost her. How could I be so stupid?!"

Michelle kept her back to Sky and ignored him as she busied herself in preparation for taking over from Cindy.

"Uh, thanks for opening; I guess you can go ahead and go if you want to," she mumbled to Cindy.

The phone started ringing as Cindy walked over to Michelle and said, "Trudy needs to talk to you real quick. Sky, will you be o.k. for a moment? We're going in back for a second."

Sky assured her that he was fine and she and Michelle walked back into the office to find Trudy on the phone.

"Yes, fine. I'll be here for another hour or so. O.k., thanks. Bye." Trudy hung up the phone and turned to see Cindy and Michelle standing in the doorway.

"Michelle," she said in a deeply concerned tone, "are you o.k.?"

Michelle plopped down at Aric's desk, looked up at Cindy and asked, "Does she know what happened?"

Sitting on the edge of the desk Cindy replied, "Yes. I hope you don't mind that I told her - I didn't know what else to do."

"Michelle, you know your secret's safe with me," Trudy assured her.

"I know it is. I just don't know what I'm gonna do about all this - I mean, this time I may have really done it!" Michelle whispered.

"Well, one problem we may have; that was the Newport Beach Police detective that we've been dealing with and he's on his way over here in about fifteen minutes to go over a few things, he said."

"Do you think Michelle should get out of here?" Cindy asked.

"I'm thinking maybe she should," Trudy replied.

Michelle stood up and announced, "I'm not running away from this! Now, don't get me wrong; I'm not planning to run up to the cops and confess anything - I'm just gonna go about my business as if nothing happened. Oh! But what about Sky? Should he be here when the cops come?"

"Oh, crap," Cindy said, "let me get him out of here!"

Cindy went out into the bar and told him the situation.

"Listen, we don't have much time, so . . I'm gonna box up your Combo Platter and send you out the back door with it. Go eat it somewhere and call me in a hour and I'll let you know if the coast is clear."

Sky agreed and he waved hello to Trudy and goodbye to Michelle as he took his food and slipped out the back door.

Trudy and Cindy stayed in the office talking as Michelle went back out to the bar. Within a couple of minutes in walked Corona Bob.

"Hey, Michelle. How 'bout them Lakers?" he called out as he always did.

"Hi, Bob," Michelle replied back, "Corona?"

"Yeah," he said as he climbed on the barstool. "So, did you hear about all the commotion last night?"

Placing the beer in front of him she replied, "Yep, I sure did. Sounds like I missed a fun night."

"Yeah, I'll say. I left before all the crazy stuff happened but somebody told me about a gun or something!"

"That's what they tell me," Michelle said, hoping to end the conversation.

"Well, for me the best part happened before all that. There was this beautiful, amazing redhead named Trixie dancing up a storm in here and I got to dance with her . . . alot!"

Trying to keep her gag reflex in check, Michelle replied, "Oh, really?"

"Yes! I mean alot! Some fast stuff AND some slow dances too!"

Michelle turned away as she replied, "That's nice."

"I'll say it was nice. Between you and me, I've never gotten so lucky with any woman I've met in here."

Michelle spun around and glared at him.

"Lucky! What do you mean, 'lucky'?"

He giggled like a naughty school girl as he leaned in and whispered, "Everytime we slow danced I nibbled on her ear and then I kinda sucked on her neck . . ALOT!"

"You sucked on her neck?" Michelle asked in a raised voice.

"Yeah, you know. I gave her a bunch of hickies and I could tell she really liked it!"

Trudy and Cindy's conversation was stopped dead in its tracks due to a sudden burst of screaming, banging and breaking glass coming from the lounge. Jumping up; they both ran out of the office and into the bar to find Michelle marching back in the front door having left poor Corona Bob laying, bleeding in the street.

"Michelle! What happened?" Trudy asked.

Michelle stormed past the two of them, went behind the bar and began collecting her things.

"Michelle!" Cindy said, "Are you o.k.?"

Throwing her purse over her shoulder and coming back from around behind the bar she answered, "I'm fine!"

"Where are you going?" Cindy asked.

She walked right past the two of them and as she headed out the door she announced, "I'm going to see a f***ing psychiatrist!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 25

2009-05-14T11:35:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy sat in the office at the V.I. filling Trudy in on her "rescue Michelle" experience.

"So, by the time I got Michelle to her house, she's decided that she wants to work tonight!"

"That's crazy! She shouldn't come anywhere near this place until all this dies down," Trudy responded. "Does she realize the cops have been nosing around here all day?"

"I told her but she says she needs the money and asked me to start her shift. She's gonna be about an hour late."

Cindy walked out into the bar and unlocked the front doors. The Village Inn was open for business.

She worked behind the bar without a single customer for the first twenty minutes when suddenly, in walked the last person she would've ever expected to see.

In a desperate attempt to mask her shock, Cindy calmly said, "Well . . . uh . . how's it going . . Hank?"

Looking terribly dejected, her old friend walked over to the bar and sat down. He looked up, gave her a feeble smile and said softly, "It's Sky."

Cindy's face lit up. She clapped like a little schoolgirl as she ran around the bar and hugged Sky Bingham.

"Oh, Sky! My little Sky's back! How are you my dear?"

Sky hung his head and mumbled, "I'm sad."

Cindy hugged him again and rubbed his back as she added, "My little blue Sky is back. How come you're so sad?"

"Last night I met the most incredible woman."

Cindy immediately thought, "You've got to be kidding!" But instead, she said, "Oh really, where'd you meet this young lady?"

"Oh, I met her here. You must have seen her - tall, redhead, big retro hair. You couldn't miss her - she's absolutely stunning! I mean to tell you - she's amazing. Her name is Trixie Louise."

Cindy could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"And, oh my god, Cindy. What a dancer! You could just tell she was the kind of woman that could teach a man a thing or two - you know what I mean?"

"Well, being a woman, I'll just have to take your word for it. So, what happened to this awesome creature - did you get her phone number?"

Sky looked surprised as he asked her, "You didn't hear about what happened?"

Continuing to play dumb, Cindy replied, "Well, alot happened last night. Which part are you referring to?"

Sky leaned in toward Cindy and whispered, "She had a gun."

Cindy whispered back, "Oh, that part. Yes, everbody heard about that. I just happened to be in the office on the phone and missed the whole thing."

"Well, I was as shocked by the gun as everyone else; I mean - I didn't know this woman from Adam or Eve - for that matter, but I sure wanted too. Cindy, she just took charge. It was like she made it up in her mind that I was hers and nothing was gonna stop her from taking me. It was the sexiest damn thing I've ever experienced. I was forcibly drug out of here at gunpoint by this ravishing love goddess!"

Right about now, in her mind, Cindy was rolling her eyes and thinking, "Oh, pleezzzz! Love goddess? That's a bit much, don't you think? We're talking about Michelle here; in a scary prom dress and grandma's old wig - Come on!" But instead, she simply replied, "How wonderful for you. So, where'd the two of you go when you left here?"

"Well, that's the tricky part. See, once I joined the 'New Way,' I had to move into the 'New Way' house at the end of Park Ave. I've been living in a room with three other guys and two sets of bunkbeds. Bringing women in the house is a universal, cosmic sin."

"Universal what?" Cindy asked.

"Cosmic sin. That's 'New Way' philosophy. 'New Way' men must commit their lives to complete denial of all pleasure: women, good food, alcohol, recreation, television - the list goes on and on."

"I guess that means sex is out of the question?" Cindy asked sarcastically.

"Only if it's pleasureable," Sky jokingly added.

They both laughed and Cindy slapped his arm, playfully. But, as the laughter subsided, Sky grew somber again. Putting his head down on the bar, he began to cry.

"Sky, honey, what's wrong?" Cindy asked.

"She's gone. She's gone and I don't know what I'm gonna do without her!" he sobbed.

Cindy found herself in the most surreal of situations. She was thrilled to have her dear friend, Sky back but he's now fallen in love with someone who doesn't exist, sort of. She decided that her only option, for now, was to continue playing along.

"Oh, Sky. I'm so sorry," she said as she rubbed his back. "Maybe you'll see her again."

Still crying, he continued, "I don't think so. Not after what happened with Zoltan."

"Zoltan? Who's Zoltan?" Cindy inquired.

Sky lifted his head off the bar and wiped his eyes as he told her, "Zoltan's the guru of the 'New Way,' remember? And he runs the 'New Way' house with an iron fist. My roommates were sleeping when Trix and I - I like to call her Trix, that's just my little name for her - when Trix and I snuck into the room. Unfortunately, because I'm the newest 'New Wayer' I have a top bunk. So, we kinda woke everybody up trying to climb up that stupid ladder, you know those ladders . . . "

"Yeah, yeah, I know - go on."

"Well, in all the commotion, I heard Zoltan coming down the hall so I pushed Trix into the closet just as he came bounding into the room demanding to know what was going on - and those douche-bag roommates of mine told him about Trixie being in the closet."

"NO!"

"Yes! What a bunch of jerks!"

"So . . then what happened?"

"Well, Zoltan opened the closet door and demanded that Trixie come out, 'this instant,' he said - very dramatic."

"Well, did she come out?'

"Yeah, she did but it was kinda strange. She seemed really confused and kept saying, 'Trixie? My name's not Trixie.' She didn't seem like the same person that went in the closet when she came out."

"That's weird."

"I know, huh? But then things really got ugly. Zoltan called her a drag queen; he was like, 'who drug this tacky drag queen into this sacred place,' and that really pissed her off - Big Time!"

"Well, I guess so."

"Then Trixie screamed at him and kicked him right in his sacred place and then she stormed out of the house and I haven't seen her since."

"Unbelieveable!"

"I know. Isn't it? Oh . . can I get a Jameson and a Combo Platter - I'm starving."

"What about the 'New Way?'" Cindy asked.

"Well, needless to say, the 'New Way' told me to be 'on my way!'"

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey."

As Cindy rounded the bar to get Sky's drink, she caught sight of someone standing in the doorway. It was Michelle wearing a baseball cap, dark sunglasses and a huge turtleneck.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 24

2009-05-11T18:05:00.001-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)**sorry the text has all run together - I'm unable to fix it without re-typing everything and I'm just plain too lazy to do that!

"Psychiatrist?! I don't need to see a friggin' psychiatrist," Michelle insisted.

"Besides, I've already seen one, years ago, and all he wanted to talk about was my childhood . . . my childhood! I had a great childhood! My mom stayed home and when my dad wasn't working he always spent time with me . . he slept alot but he never yelled or hit me!"

Cindy realized that she'd opened a big can of worms by suggesting a psychiatrist so she decided to go in another direction.

"So, where did the gun come from?"

Michelle threw her hands in the air and said, "Where does any of this crazy stuff come from? I mean the wigs, the ugly clothes! This psycho I turn into orders all of it online with my credit card! Last month I got two bills for wigs: one from a "Wilma's 'Wig'wam" and another from some crazy place called, "Gettin' 'Wiggie' With It!" Do you realize what these things cost! But, to answer your question; I have no idea where the gun came from."

"That's scary," Cindy added.

"You're tellin' me? But, what's really scary is how little I remember happening before I got to that public bathroom."

"Oh, right! I meant to tell you."

Cindy began to unfold the events from the night before. She explained how Trixie Louise had shown up all of a sudden and had begun dancing with everyone.

"I was dancing with Meatloaf Man?!"

"Yes. An when you finished with him, Corona Bob took over!"

"Are you KIDDING me! Seriously, I didn't really dance with them, did I?"

"Oh my god, Michelle, yes! You danced with everybody! And then Sky came in and . . . "

"SKY! I remember being with Sky. That's the weird part. I remember Sky shoving me into a closet and telling me to be quiet and then I heard some guy come in and start yelling at him and calling him . . . Henry or . . ."

"Hank?" Cindy asked.

"Hank, that's it. This guy was yelling and calling Sky, Hank. And I'm all wedged in this closet thinking, 'what the hell am I doing here; why am I dressed like this and where the heck am I?'"

"So, who was this guy that came in and why was he yelling?" Cindy asked.

"Well, best I could tell, he was mad because he thought Sky . . or Hank had a woman in his room and, I guess, that woman would have been me. And, as for who he was, I couldn't tell you - maybe a roommate? But I didn't think Sky had a roommate."

Cindy laughed and then added, "Well, things with Sky have changed lately. In fact, they've changed alot!"

As they drove along Pacific Coast Highway, Cindy explained how she'd encountered Sky on the street the day before and how strange he'd behaved. She told her about his name change and that he claimed to have joined something called the "New Way."

"And, according to Charmaine, he showed up last night as this Hank guy, grabbed the microphone and started going on and on about this 'New Way' thing."

"How totally bizarre is that?!"

"I know, but here's the kicker. I guess Trixie Louise liked what she heard and, according to Charmaine, she pulled out that gun and told everyone to get back and then the two of them walked out together."

"Well, where were you during all of this?" Michelle asked.

"Oh, crap. I answered the phone and got stuck taking some huge to-go order!"

Michelle exhaled deeply, reclined her seat and leaned back - turning her head to look out the window.

"Well . . . I don't know what to make of all this."

Cindy reached over and patted Michelle's hand.

"Don't worry; it's going to be alright."

As she looked over at Michelle, she noticed something she hadn't seen before.

"Oh my god, Michelle. Are those hickies all over your neck?!"

"What?!"

Michelle sat straight up, lowered the sunvisor and opened the lighted mirror. Upon close inspection she came to a startling conclusion.

"Son of a . . . "

"What?" Cindy asked.

"They are hickies!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 23

2009-05-05T14:01:00.001-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy got dressed in record time, jumped into her new Mustang and put the extra horse power to work. As she roared down the 55 Freeway she decided to break a second law by using her cellphone.

Trudy Hayes was working on the computer at the V.I. when the phone rang.

"Good morning, Village Inn."

"Trudy -it's Cindy!"

"Yes."

"Oh my god - you're not going to believe who just called me!"

"Let me guess, uh . . Publisher's Clearinghouse."

"No, silly. Michelle!"

"Michelle?! Where is she?"

"Well, she left me a message saying that she's hiding in the ladies room by the ferry - where's the ladies room by the ferry?"

Trudy explained where the restrooms were and Cindy continued down the freeway onto the Island and made a left on Agate St.; parking a couple of blocks up from the ferry.

Cindy made her way past the Island Grill and, with great trepidation, approached the door to the ladies room.
Inside, there were two older women chattering and washing their hands so Cindy stood back and waited for them to finish. Once they'd left, she looked under the stalls and spotted a scuffed pair of red patent leather high heels - one of which had a wad of toilet paper wrapped around it. Cindy tapped lightly on the stall door and was startled by the response.

"I'm in here - GO AWAY!"

"Michelle - it's me, Cindy."

What followed was a great sigh of relief and alot of rustling of fabric. The door unlatched and out came a haggard and exhausted Michelle; wig askew and fighting mad.

"I was about ready to strangle of couple of these damn tourists. Can't a girl be left alone when she's hiding out in a public restroom for god sake! People banging and jiggling the damn door and I'm yelling, 'back off, bimbo!' That usually worked but some of these chicks are relentless!"

Cindy just stared and fought back an avalanche of laughter.

"What?!" Michelle asked.

"Nothing, honey. I'm just so relieved you're o.k."

Cindy opened the door and Michelle shielded her eyes from the sunlight as they emerged from the restroom.

"Oh my god - I hope no one sees me," Michelle whispered. "Where'd you park?"

Cindy pointed to her car at the end of Agate.

"Crap! Could you have parked any further away?!"

"Sorry!" Cindy said fighting back the giggles.

Among the handful of people waiting to board the ferry, a couple of them pointed and commented on the peculiar sight of the lady in the red evening dress, crooked wig and trailing toilet paper on her heel as she hobbled down the street.

Cindy unlocked the car doors remotely and they both plopped down inside.

"Oh, by the way. You need to take off that wig and hide your face as we drive off the Island."

"Why?"

"Well, let's just say Trixie Louise is a very wanted woman!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 22

2009-05-04T21:57:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Monday morning found Cindy Corrales frustrated and parked in front of her television set.

She was on the phone with Trudy Hayes and they both were watching the local news as it showed video from the night before of Billy Ray Jones (a.k.a. Elan Jones) being arrested at the Village Inn.

"That's him, Trudy! That's Mr. gorgeous, wonderful, hunky, I tossed my wife off the boat, man."

"Oh Cindy, you're right - he is gorgeous!"

"I know, right? Trudy, how come every guy I fall for turns out to be crazy, married, trans-gendered or a murderer? It's just not fair!"

"Oh Cindy - life's not fair. You're a catch and any guy would be lucky to have you. You just haven't found Mr. Right yet."

"Maybe you're right but I'm just afraid that, at this rate, by the time I fall for Mr. Right I'll break my hip!"

"Oh Cindy, look - it's Charmaine!"

The t.v. news reporter began to interview Charmaine:

"Miss Charmaine Truce works as a waitress at the historic Village Inn on Balboa Island and it was her quick thinking and heroic action that brought this dangerous fugitive to justice. Miss Truce, how was it that you recognized Mr. Jones?"

"Well, Clint; I've been a fan of America's Most Wanted for many years and I knew the moment that I laid eyes on that scumbag that I'd seen his face somewhere and so I looked on the AMW website and voila, there he was!"

"Simply amazing! Well, Miss Truce . . . "

"My friends call me CharTruce."

"O.k., CharTruce. I've heard rumblings that you may receive the key to the city from the mayor."

"Well, that would be wonderful but I'm sure I wouldn't have it for long cause I'm always losing my keys!"

"Well . . back to you in the studio. This is Clint Lusterbaum reporting from Balboa Island."

"She was terrific!" Trudy squealed.

Cindy was less impressed.

"He's not a scumbag and besides, whatever happened to innocent before proven guilty?"

"Well, the news said that the cruise ship has him on surveillance tape throwing her overboard."

"Hey, Trudy. My call waiting's going off - hang on."

Cindy looked at the incoming number but didn't recognize it.

"I'm not going to answer that. So . . . with all this fugitive excitement I keep forgetting that poor Michelle is out there somewhere."

"I know. I heard the police completely searched both the big and little islands looking for her and Sky but didn't find them, thank god!"

"I know. Trudy, she's really gotten herself into a big mess this time. All I know is I'm playing dumb and keeping quiet. I believe the only people who know the truth about Trixie Louise is you, me, Ally and now Charmaine."

"You don't think Charmaine would say anything, do you?"

"Not as long as Michelle doesn't end up on America's Most Wanted. That Charmaine sure loves that show!"

"O.K. Well, I've got to get over to the V.I. and explain all this to Aric. So, you're gonna cover Michelle's shift tonight, right?"

"Oh yes, I'll be there. I just hope Michelle's alright."

With that, the two of them hung up and Cindy began to play with her dog, Vegas when she remembered the call she missed. Checking her phone, she saw she had one voicemail. When she retreived it she heard the following message:

"Cindy, this is Michelle. I need your help. I'm at a payphone by the ferry and I don't have any more change to call you back. I'm hiding in the ladies room right next to the ferry. Please come get me. I guess I blacked out again and I'm freaking out. I'm standing here with this butt-ugly evening dress on and some ratty-ass beehive wig on my head. Please, please come get me as soon as you get this message! Please hurry! Bye."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 21

2009-05-01T11:46:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

"COPS!?" Both Cindy and Elan said at the same time.

Charmaine gave the two of them a confused look and answered, "Yes. Apparently someone out there called the police."

Elan began to sweat and wring his hands. "I don't like cops - never have. Guess it's an authority thing with me."

Cindy - acting as if they'd been dating for months - rubbed his back and soothed him with, "Don't worry, honey. I'll speak with them; you just go in the dining room and relax and I'll come get you when they've gone."

Elan flung his arms around her and hugged her with the desperation a drowning man displays when reaching for a life preserver. "Oh, Cindy. You're and angel!"

Cindy lead him out of the office and into the dining room and all this under the watchful and suspicious eye of Charmaine. Something didn't seem quite right and she was determined to get to the bottom of it as she sat down and picked up the phone. She had a hunch and in order to follow it she would need to gain access to the internet.

Before she could dial, Cindy bounded back into the office as giddy as school girl. "Oh my god, Charmaine - I'm in love!"

Charmaine replied, "Cindy, I have a bad feeling about this guy."

"Bad feeling? What bad feeling. He's awesome!"

Charmaine began to dial Trudy Hayes' phone number.

"Who're you calling?" Cindy asked.

"Trudy."

"What for?"

"Oh, I need to go online to check something out real quick and I wanted to ask her for the password; do you think she'll give it to me?"

"Probably. Oh . . . and don't mention the cops are here. She doesn't need to worry about this tonight - I'll handle it."

Charmaine agreed and Cindy went out into the lounge to speak with the police. After getting Trudy's permission and the password to the internet, Charmaine got on line and went to her favorite website - America's Most Wanted.

She clicked on the "Fugitives" link and looked through several photos and biographies of criminals until she came upon the one she was looking for:

WANTED - Billy Ray Jones. Jones is wanted for the murder of his bride while on their honeymoon. The two were on a Mexican cruise and it is believed that Jones may have become infatuated with an exotic dancer that was working on the ship and pushed his new wife overboard.

Charmaine stared at the screen in disbelief. It was him and her dream of finally participating in the capture of one of America's most wanted criminals was about to come true.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 20

2009-04-21T17:13:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

"Yes, her name was Trixie," the handsome stranger replied.

Cindy looked him in the eye but he looked away.

"I get the feeling that you're not telling me something, sir."

The man began to fidget and finally looked at her and answered, "O.k. I must confess that I was completely taken by Trixie Louise. That towering hair and smoldering figure - I couldn't help myself. We flirted shamelessly; so much so that my lady friend - well, actually, my new bride left me as soon as the boat docked and had the marriage annulled a few days later.

Shocked, Cindy asked, "You were on your honeymoon?!"

The man shook his head and looked away. "I know, I know. You must think I'm a complete cad but you must understand the power that Trixie Louise possesses. When she does the Bossa Nova something primal errupts inside of me; I can't explain it."

Cindy couldn't help but wonder what the odds were that this gorgeous man would show up at the V.I. on this particular night and that he would have been on the very same cruise that she and Michelle took a couple of years before. He obviously didn't recognize her and she decided not to let on.

"Well, first of all, I don't think you're a cad - perhaps a little confused but not a cad. My name's Cindy."

He took her extended hand and announced, "Nice to met you, Cindy. My name is Elan."

"Of course it is," Cindy thought. His dark, devastating good looks fit her idea of the quintessential European lover and the name Elan was the perfect touch to this living fantasy that sat before her. A veritable forest fire was sparking somewhere deep inside her as she stumbled over her next words.

"I'm sorry, did you say Elan?"

He stared directly at her with his bedroom eyes and kissed her hand.

"Yes, it's Elan."

She swore she detected a slight aristocratic accent in his voice. She imagined him to be French or Italian - maybe Spanish. She was growing more attracted to him by the second.

In an uncharacteristically coy manner she asked, "Elan what?"

"Jones."

"Jones?! she yelled as she pulled her hand back.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Charmaine stuck her head inside.

"Hey, Cindy. The cops are here."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 19

2009-04-14T17:56:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

The stunned patrons quickly turned from shock into an angry mob. Many began to call for Cindy and Charmaine was frantic as she ran from the bar back into the office.

"Cindy!"

Still on the phone taking a long-winded to go order, Cindy waved her off as she finished up. "O.k. Now let's see. You want an order of nachos, hold the beans; trust me, I understand - I love them too but they don't love me! O.k. And you also want two Balboa Burgers: one medium rare and the other medium with fries, right? O.k. And then an order of calamari and an artichoke . . . got it! Give us about twenty minutes. Thanks."

Cindy hung up and turned back to Charmaine, "I'm sorry. I just had to get this order. So, what's happening out there?"

Charmaine recounted the bizarre happenings of the past few minutes. "And then this guy runs up to the stage and starts going on about a 'new day' or something . . . "

"Wait a minute," Cindy interrupted. "Did he say 'new day' or 'new way?'"

"I'm not sure; it could have been 'new way' I guess."

"What did this guy look like?"

"Well, he was nice looking, maybe in his thirties with a moustache and a goatee . . and . . OH! He said his name was Hank!"

"Hank?"

"Yes and that Trixie chick pulled out a gun when a couple of guys tried to stop him - then the two of them left hand in hand."

"Trixie and Sky left together?"

"Sky? Who's Sky?" Charmaine asked.

Suddenly an agitated group bounded through the kitchen door yelling for Cindy to call 911. Barbara, the dance nazi, lead the charge. "Cindy call the police! A woman just pulled a gun and pointed it at all of us!"

Cindy didn't want to get Michelle in trouble with the police and so she tried to calm the situation. "Listen. Everybody out of the kitchen! Back into the bar . . . everyone!"

Barbara was determined. "Cindy, you must call the cops - this woman had a gun!"

"O.k., o.k. everyone. Now why should we involve the police? No one got hurt -right? The lady with the gun's gone now so why don't we all go back to having fun?" Cindy pleaded.

From the back of the crowd emerged a man that Cindy didn't recognize. As he approached her he asked, "Are you the manager?"

"Well, sort of," Cindy replied.

"May I speak with you in private? I believe I can identify the woman with the gun - in fact I know I can."

Cindy was panicking inside as she told him to follow her into the office. Once inside she closed the door behind them and they both sat down.

"Now, you said you think you know who the woman was that had the gun?" Cindy asked.

"I don't think I know - I know I know who the woman was."

Cindy's heart began to pound as she realized that this could mean big trouble for Michelle if this guy identified her. Nevertheless, she swallowed hard and asked the question, "Well, who was she?"

"Well. A couple of years ago a lady friend and I took a cruise and there was this exotic dancer that performed on the ship and I know that's the same woman. I think her name was Trixie."

Cindy exhaled with relief and smiled, "Trixie, you said?"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 18

2009-04-09T13:48:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Charmaine kept watch through the kitchen door as Cindy frantically tried to reach Michelle's friend and roommate, Ally.

"You better hurry, Cindy. She's doin' the tango with 'Meatloaf Man' and 'Corona Bob's' trying to cut in."

"Crap! I got her voice mail," Cindy said as she hung up.

"Oh Cindy!"

"What? What's she doing?"

Charmaine stared though the kitchen door window as Trixie began leading several of the patrons in a line dance.

"Well, it looks like some kinda creepy conga line or something."

Cindy walked out of the office and looked for herself.

"Yep - that's Trixie for you. She can get them eating right out of her hand - look at her - now their doing the Bunny Hop. I mean, seriously, who does the Bunny Hop? Listen, you keep an eye on her while I try her roommate again."

Out in the lounge Trixie's line dancing gave way to the watusi.

"Hey guys, try this," Trixie yelled over the pulsating music.

Corona Bob tried to mimic her soulful watusi but only managed to knock over a cocktail table and the three Cosmopolitans that were resting upon it.

"Oh . . I'm sorry," he said to the ladies that the Cosmos belonged to, "I'll get you girls another drink." And with that, he vanished in the crowd and slipped out the door leaving not only the three women high and dry but also his own tab unpaid.

Cindy decided to leave Michelle's roommate a message. "Hi, Ally. This is Cindy - at the Village Inn. Could you please call me as soon as you get this. I don't know if you're aware but Trixie Louise is on the loose again and she's here dancing with guys that Michelle doesn't even like to sell drinks to let alone dance with - but anyway . . . at least she's still got her clothes on. Call me!"

"You might have spoken too soon!" Charmaine called out. "She's taken her gloves off and thrown them into the crowd and now she's bumping and grinding up against the popcorn machine!"

Before Cindy could get up, the phone rang.

"Oh god, I hope this is Ally," she said as she picked up the phone. "Good evening, Village Inn; this is Cindy speaking. Ah . . yes. Let me grab a pen." Cindy pulled a pad out of the desk along with a ballpoint pen. "O.k., what would you like?"

As Cindy took a "to go" order Charmaine observed a young man enter the bar and stand by the door. He watched as Trixie continued to mesmerize the crowd with her steamy dance and then suddenly he yelled, "STOP!" Shoving through the drunken mob - he made his way to the stage and Redd Street stopped playing as he stepped up and commandeered the microphone.

"Stop! All of you! You're heading in the wrong direction! Let me tell you about the 'New Way!'"
It was Sky Bingham.

"Confused fellow Earthlings. My name is Hank."

Sky rambled on passionately about the "New Way" and everyone in the crowd began to yell and demand that he come down from the stage - everyone except Trixie Louise. She found him and his message fascinating.

As a couple of guys approached the stage to physically remove him - Trixie reached inside her purse and pulled out her gun. Pointing it at the two men she yelled, "Back off, fellas!"

She walked up to the stage, extended her hand to Sky and said softly, "I want to know all about the 'New Way,' Hank."

Sky smiled, took her hand and stepped down from the stage as Trixie waved the gun back and forth and barked, "Get out of our way!"

The stunned crowd gasped and parted which allowed Trixie to lead Sky through the bar and out the front door.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 17

2009-04-07T20:34:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

"Michelle?! . . . the bartender Michelle?" Charmaine asked.

Cindy assured her that it was indeed Michelle and went on to explain how she came to know the story of Michelle and Trixie Louise.

"You see, Michelle and I took a cruise together a couple of years ago and everything was going fine until the second night. After dinner we joined a big group dancing the Hully Gully around the Captain's table and all of a sudden one of Michelle's high-heel rubber wedgies blew out. Well, she went careening across the room and landed on top of the Mexican buffet which collapsed and this huge ice sculpture of Caesar Chavez fell over and knocked her right up side the head."

"Oh my god! Was she hurt?"

"Was she hurt! She was knocked out cold and completely covered with bean dip and guacamole!"

"Oh my gosh . . . . now you're making me hungry."

"Anyway. They had medics come check her out and when she came to she seemed disoriented and confused. So, we got her back to the room and the next morning when I woke up she was gone and by the time I finally found her that afternoon she was dressed up like she is out there and calling herself Trixie Louise."

"That's the most bizarre story I've ever heard. Now where's the whole get up - I mean the clothes and the hair - come from?"

"Well, here's the way it is. Trixie Louise is an exotic dancer."

"Erotic dancer?"

"No. Exotic . . . sort of burlesque, kinda."

"Exotic, erotic. Aren't they all the same?"

"Not with Trixie. See, Michelle and Trixie Louise are both good and decent Catholic girls and would never go all the way . . . I mean, take it all off."

"Now wait a minute. You said that Trixie Louise is an exotic dancer; don't you mean she thinks she's an exotic dancer?"

"Oh no. She is an exotic dancer and a pretty good one too."

"You're serious?"

"Oh, I'm very serious. In fact, the cruise director was so impressed that he hired her and for the rest of the cruise she did two shows a night in the Isla Bonita Room. One at ten and then the big one: Trixie's Midnight Revue at twelve."

"Unbelieveable!"

"I know. She made enough to pay for her entire trip and then some. Kinda pissed me off."

"Why?"

"I don't know; just jealous, I guess. She didn't snap out of it until the day after we got home."

"Did she freak out?"

"Well, kinda. She called me all panicked and wanted to know if I knew why she was wearing pasties."

"So what do you think caused all this to happen?"

"Well, it seems to have been caused by the ice sculpture hitting her on the head and - in fact - it's happened a few times since then and each time it's been after she's hit her head. The past two pub crawls she's gone on she's fallen and hit her head and Trixie Louise showed up. I would guess this time was caused by the fight last night."

"Incredible!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 16

2009-03-31T19:14:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

By 7:30 the V.I. was rockin' with a toxic combination of raging, aging hormones and menapausal passion -polident and preparation H - augmented breasts and replaced hips - scotch rocks and botox - in other words, it was a typical Sunday night.

Redd Street, the popular Sunday night band, was jumpin' and the patrons were drinking and dancing.

With the place so packed it's no surprise that little notice was paid by those inside when a cab pulled up out front and dropped off a most unusual passenger.

Trixie Louise paid the driver and made her way to the front door. Her peculiar attire and mile-high hairdo did not go unnoticed by the handful of smokers standing out front.

"Get a load of this one," a middle-aged, bearded patron mumbled to his lady friend as Trixie passed by.

Giggling, his lady friend replied, "Looks like Miss Panarama City, 1964."

Oblivious to their stares, Trixie marched straight to the door and entered the packed lounge and as she did, the intensity of her appearance caused everyone to gawk and step aside. This created a path for her leading directly to the bar which she followed and stood between the brass rails of the well.

Cindy - the only bartender - had run in back to get more beer but Charmaine saw Trixie standing at the bar and ran to alert her. Reaching the beer coolers she blurted out, "Oh my god, Cindy. Wait 'til you see the amazing woman that's waiting at the bar - you're not gonna believe your eyes!"

Cindy - her arms full of six-packs - asked, "Who is it?"

"I don't know who she is but wait 'til you see her."

Cindy handed her a couple of the six-packs. "Here, take these."

The two of them made their way through the kitchen and as Cindy approached the doors leading to the bar she set down the beer she was carrying and peaked out. Charmaine watched as the blood ran out of her face and a look of horror overtook her.

"What is it, Cindy?"

Cindy put her hands over her face and shook her head. "I can't believe this!"

"What . . what is it?"

Cindy walked passed Charmaine and into the office. "This can't be happening!"

Charmaine followed her and asked, "What . . . do you know her?"

Cindy sat in Trudy's chair and put her head down on the desk. "Yes . . . I know her."

"Well, who is she?"

Cindy mumbled, "Trixie Louise!"

"Trixie Louise?" Charmaine asked, "Who's Trixie Louise?"

Cindy lifted her head off the desk and turned around to face Charmaine. "Doesn't she look slightly familiar to you?"

Charmaine walked back to the kitchen door and looked out the window at the woman then walked back into the office. "I don't recognize her - who is she?"

Cindy shook her head and revealed the awful truth. "It's Michelle!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 15

2009-03-27T23:27:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Just across town in a darkened Costa Mesa bedroom, a familiar face labors over every detail of her makeup.

The room is possessed of an eerie glow caused by the flickering, silent television in the corner; the channel and show are unimportant to the room's occupant as she's interested only in the shifting, moody light it provides.

"You always did look best by the light of the t.v.," she said to herself as she stared in the mirror.

After one final adjustment to the enormous wig she has called upon to hide her pain and shame she purses her lips, kisses the air, smiles and announces, "Tonight is your night, T.L. Tonight's the night you're going to make them pay for what they did to you."

Bending down, she reaches for the drawer on the right side of the vanity and opens it. With her satin gloved hand she extracts a large, no nonsense handgun and places it inside her bag.

Stepping away from the vanity she brushes the front of her crimson, full-length evening dress with her hand and continues over to the nightstand next to the bed. She picks up her coral colored princess phone and dials the number listed on the business card that's taped to the wall.

"Yes . . hello. I spoke with you earlier about a cab for Costa Mesa - going to the Village Inn on Balboa Island, California. Yes - that's right. It's Miss Trixie Louise.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 14

2009-03-24T15:37:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

Bilge couldn't help but laugh as he stood on the corner of Park & Marine watching Olga Renderklott - mad as a wet hen - storm off down the sidewalk.

"Now come on, Olga. Don't go away mad!" he called out after her.

Turning to the other V.I. patrons out front with him, he announced, "Something's sure got her undies all in a bunch." Everyone laughed and headed back inside where their cocktails were waiting.

As they crossed through the lounge - heading for the bar - Bilge loudly continued, "Yeah, them Renderklotts and their type all wanna force the rest of us peons to pony up the bucks for something that's only important to them; I don't give a sh** if the damn wires get buried - I grew up on this island and they've always been above ground and that's where they oughta stay, by god!"

There were a few tables occupied in the lounge and in one of the booths sat Ruth Fitzparker, an attractive, older woman with her two young grandchildren. Bilge's cursing was the first thing that caught her attention; second was his feelings about underground utilities.

As Bilge got to the bar and climbed back up on his barstool one of the other bar patrons jokingly commented, "Hey, Bilge, do you even have electricity in that old shack of yours?"

This brought a roar of laughter from around the bar and Bilge flipped the guy off with his finger and with his words.

Ruth Fitzparker had heard enough. She told her grandkids to stay put as she got up out of the booth and walked over to the bar. Coming up behind Bilge, she tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me."

Bilge spun around on his barstool and came face to face with the quintessential Balboa Island grandmother. Short, sporty hair cut; wearing a nautical themed ensemble with the requisite cardigan sweater and canvas deck shoes - she was not even five feet tall - and once he turned all the way around she found herself staring right into his mammoth gut. Confused - he mumbled, "What the hell?"

Ruth extended her hand, "Pardon the interruption - I'm Ruth Fitzparker - how do you do?"

Still confused, he gently shook her petite hand and responded, "Yeah, yeah, nice to know ya."

"Well, I just wanted to mention," she turned and pointed out her grandkids sitting in the booth, "See . . my grandchildren, that's Robert - he's seven and Chelsea, his little sister, she's five and . . . . well, I just wanted to know if you could curse a little quieter. I understand that this is a bar and a restaurant - and I'm not trying to quash anyone's fun - but . . well . . the kids - you understand."

Bilge was embarassed and offered a sincere apology then asked, "What'd you say your name was, again?"

"Ruth. Ruth Fitzparker - and you are?"

Extending his hand to her this time he answered, "Bilge. Bilge Donahue."

"Well, Bilge, it's a pleasure to know you. Now did I hear you right - did you say you grew up here on the island?"

"Yep. Born and raised right here; 206 Tourmaline."

"How lovely - Tourmaline is one of my favorite streets."

"Well, where 'bouts do you live?" Bilge asked.

"I'm at 106 Carnelian . . . are you familiar with it?"

"Am I familiar with it? I know Carnelian like the back of my hand! As a kid I delivered newspapers all over this island. You bet I know Carnelian. Did you say 106?"

"Yes . . 106."

Bilge made a face that reflected distain and resentment then barked, "106 huh? Guess the world's a whole lot shinier and the air's heck of alot sweeter up there - up in the '100' block."

Ruth knew where this was heading and she refused to take the bait.

"You know, Bilge, the way I see it: 100, 200, 300 block - north or south bayfront, really doesn't matter as long as you're on the island. I'm just grateful to be able to live here; aren't you?"

Bilge turned and looked straight ahead, "Yeah . . . I guess."

"Of course you are," she continued, "We are some of most blessed people on earth."

Bilge thought for a second and turned back to face her, "O.k., Miss '106 Carnelian', what's your take on this whole underground utilities boondoggle?"

Ruth Fitzparker was a wise woman and knew she needed to choose her words carefully. After thinking for a moment she smiled and began, "Well, if you're talking about the plan that brings greater beauty, emergency access and safety to the residents of the island - I'm all for it. But, if you're talking about the plan that brings strife, faction and bitterness and places undue stress and financial strain on our retired and elderly residents - I'm against it."

Bilge let what she'd just said soak in and then burst out laughing, "Ruthie, I like you," he said as he patted her on the back, "Have you ever thought about going into politics?"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 13

2009-03-23T19:00:00.000-07:00

MY V.I. (I apologize for the text being all jammed together -

(a soap opera) It won't let me fix it & I'm too lazy to retype it!)

Cindy left the bar and walked back into the office to answer the telephone.

"Good afternoon, Village Inn; this is Cindy speaking. Oh, Ryan, it's you . . . hello honey bunny."

The normally light-hearted Ryan was speaking with a great deal more earnest as he asked her about Ken Edwards.

"Hey, Ken still works there - right?"

She was surprised by his question.

"Yes, of course. He works Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturday . . . they took him off Mondays because it's just gotten so slow. Why?"

"Well . . this is really weird. I was driving down 17th St. and I stopped at a light and I hear this voice calling my name and I look over and it's this giant cellphone waving and yelling, 'Ryan . . Ryan . . hey, Ryan!'"

"Yeah - that's weird but what's that got to do with Ken?"

"Well, I'm getting to that part. At first I thought maybe I'd forgotten to pay my phone bill and -WOW - they've sent this living cellphone to collect the dough . . . you know?"

"That would be weird."

"I know, right? But then I realized . . . it was Ken."

"Ken?"

"Yes. It was Ken dressed in this huge cellphone costume - standing and waving at the cars driving by . . . you know what I mean? You've seen those guys, right? Some guy dressed like the Statue of Liberty or a chicken . . you know . . . to advertise some business."

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about but . . . Ken was doing that? You're sure it was Ken?"

"Oh - trust me - it was Ken. I know because I pulled over and talked to him."

"You did? What did he say?

"Well . . I didn't want to act like I was surprised (which was hard not to do) so I was just like, 'hey, how's it going, Ken?' You know, it's like - what do I say to this person who I know but I've never seen dressed like a damn telephone before . . you know? It was awkward."

"Oh my god - that would be awkward . . . really awkward! Well, did he say why he was doing this . . job, I guess it's a job, right?"

"Well, this is the really sad part. You know how he's struggled financially - trying to put his dog through obedience school and all that . . . well, he told me that he's been really depressed the past couple of months and the way he's dealt with the depression is he's holed up in his apartment and watched movies - nonstop. Well, I guess he's managed to run up such a huge Blockbuster bill that he might have to take his dog out of private obedience school and home school her."

"Oh my god . . . I had no idea this was going on! He's so quiet about his personal life. Isn't that funny - always laughing on the outside but dying on the inside."

"Oh well. I just wanted to know if he'd been fired or quit, you know. So I guess this 'cellphone gig' is like extra, part-time work or something."

"I guess. This is just terrible. I'm gonna call Trudy and see if she can get his Monday night shift back, I mean, c'mon - he shouldn't be standing out on the street dressed as a phone. Was it at least like an iphone or a Blackberry . . . you know, something nice?"

"No. It was like the crappiest freebie phone - you know - the kind they give you when you sign up for service."

"Oh . . . this just breaks my heart. My little Kenny dressed up like a cheap phone walkin' the street just to make ends meet. Damn it, Ryan. Somethings gotta change in this country! This is not right!"

"Tell me about it. Things are tough all over. In fact, I'm looking at taking an editing job with the Trinity Broadcasting Network."

"TBN!? Are you kidding me?

"Hey . . . gotta go where the money is and God's never low on cash."

"Yeah, well. I think, maybe, you better drive back to 17th St. and ask Ken if they have an extra cellphone suit."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 12

2009-03-22T18:24:00.001-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Storm clouds were gathering and

a crowd was forming outside the V.I.

It seems that Olga Renderklott, the haughtiest of all Balboa Island residents, had decided to appoint herself the unofficial spokesman of the "YES on underground utilites" movement.

"Wake up, fair citizens of Balboa Island. For safety sake you must vote YES for underground utilities," proclaimed Mrs. Renderklott into her bull horn.

Olga Renderklott - of the San Marino Renderklotts - was an abrasive, pretentious, long-time resident of Balboa Island. She and her husband, Raymond, resided in a shamelessly gaudy home on the south bayfront: a massive, double-lot, bastardized tudor/moroccan/moorish style concoction of her own design and - had they posessed less money - someone might have told them so but right about the time anyone came close to calling her out or questioning her bulldozing ways she would shrewdly make a substantial donation to a charity or cause close to the heart of the offended party.

She was always looking for something to promote, protest or preside over; and the underground utilities issue was right up her alley . . . so to speak.

"I'll never forget the time that a vicious wind arose and the decrepit, sagging eyesores - or power lines, as some refer to them, began to sway violently. I happened to be standing directly beneath them waiting for my driver to pull around into the alley behind my home and whisk me off to a charity dinner to benefit the Deaf & Dumb Motivational Speakers Society (their motto is 'listen & speak up!') and as I stood there, terrified, I began to watch the wires swinging madly to and fro. Soon I was hypnotized by their evil swaying motion and unable to free myself from the power of their persuasive, visual grip. This quickly lead to profound nausea and caused me to vomit all over the new John Galliano dress I was wearing which I had planned to return to Neimans the next day. Well, needless to say, my evening was ruined and I was forced to keep the dress! Now you see why we must have underground utilites."

The various people in the small but curious crowd surrounding her each reacted differently to her street corner confession. Five elderly Taiwanese tourists took several photographs of her while the handful of V.I. customers who'd stepped out front to smoke kept their own opinions about Olga and the issue of underground utilities to themselves . . . except for one.

Bilge, who'd lived his whole life on the island in the small cottage his grandfather built in the 200 block of Tourmaline, decided to speak up.

"Olga, you old bottom feeder! What are you doing out here on the corner babbling like a lunatic? You and the rest of your snooty 'SoBaFro' friends can take your 'bury the wires' crusade back down to the 100 block."

Olga glared at him and demanded to know, "WHAT did you call me, Bilge Donahue?"

"Snooty?" he replied.

"No . . after that."

"Oh! 'SoBaFro?'

"Yes . . . Soho, or whatever you said."

"It's 'So-Ba-Fro' - I called you a snooty SoBaFro . . . . South Bayfronter."

Her whole body raised up as she hissed, "WELL! I never!"

With a slight smirk on his face, Bilge stared directly in her eyes and winked, "Oh really, Olga . . . not even once?"

In an instant her face went from red to white as a ghost. Without a single word she turned and stormed off down Marine Avenue.

Bilge had managed to psychologically defeat all of her wealth, pomp and prestige by silently reminding her of her most humiliating fleshly failure which took place thirty-two years before during the Boat Parade and involved the two of them, a couple of bottles of Lancer's Rose and a chilly rendezvous on the swim deck of a neighbor's yacht . . . . . Feliz Navidad!

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 11

2009-03-20T09:10:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.

(a soap opera)

Cindy entered the office shouting, "High five, girl! That was awesome. You just said what everybody's wanted to say to that guy for years."

Charmaine was sitting with her head down at Trudy's desk and unenthusiastically turned to "high five" her.

Seeing that she was crying again Cindy asked, "What's wrong now?'

"I hate that I got so upset - my mother raised me to respect my elders," was all she would say.

What Cindy did not understand was the way Charmaine had been brought up. Her mother was a portly, chain-smoking, mustachoed, schizophrenic, globe-trotting Jehovah's Witness missionary who posessed a penchant for Parliments, Popoff, pastries, piety, paisley, parties, pontificating and pineapple pot pourri. Needless to say, any child raised in such a home would be doomed to confusion and Charmaine was no exception.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 10

2009-03-18T08:56:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

"What's ringing?" Cindy asked.

Simza grabbed her enormous bag and began to fumble through it, "It's my phone."

After digging to the bottom, she extracted a shiny new iphone.

"You've got an iphone?" Cindy asked.

"What? Just because I'm a gypsy you think I can't have nice things?"

"No . . no. I didn't mean . . . "

She put the phone to her ear, "Hello, Simza here. Yes . . . yes. I'll be right there."

Putting the phone back in her bag she announced, "I've got to go. I forgot I was supposed to meet my sister thirty minutes ago at The Gypsy Den."

Cindy stood as Simza got up, "I understand. So you're off to the gypsy den, huh? Sounds mysterious - where is it? Hidden away in the mountains somewhere?"

Simza cast a disparaging look her way, "What? Are you kidding me? It's a coffee house over in Costa Mesa . . . you've been watching too many movies!"

Simza hugged her once more, reiterated her warning to be careful and she made her way out the dining room door to her camper.

Cindy watched through the window as the old gypsy pulled onto Marine Avenue and smiled when it dawned on her that this was the first time Simza had come and gone without it costing her anything - but as she turned around, she realized that all the salt and pepper shakers were missing in the dining room.

"Gypsies," she mumbled.

Cindy decided she'd better check on Charmaine who was last seen crying on the phone in back. As she entered the office, she found a far more composed Charmaine drying her eyes with a tissue.

"Are you o.k., honey?" Cindy asked as she put her arm around her.

"Yeah, I'm o.k."

"What did Bilge say to get you so upset?"

"Oh, he was making fun of me and told me that my idol, Bella Abzug, was dead - which I found out is true. I just called a friend of mine and had her "google" her name for me and she told me it was true - she died in 1998 - and I've been voting for her all this time! Guess he's right - I am an idiot!"

"Did he call you that?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Well, I'm gonna go give him a piece of my mind - NO ONE talks to my servers that way! No one!"

"No, Cindy, don't. It's not important."

"Oh yes it is. That lard ass sits out there everyday and always manages to say something stupid or inappropriate and I've had it."

"Please don't say anything, Cindy - I'll take care of it - please."

"Well, alright," Cindy said, "but do not let him give you a hard time . . . I mean it."

Cindy smiled and walked back out to the bar. Seeing her, Bilge yelled out, "Where the hell've you been? People are getting thirsty around here!"

Cindy was about to unload on him when suddenly the door from the kitchen swung open wildly and slammed against the cabinet next to it. Out stormed an angry and determined Charmaine.

Crossing over in front of the bar and right into the bloated face of Bilge - she unleashed her tornadic fury.

"Listen, you! Who the hell do you think you are spouting orders to her and making fun of me - you beached whale!" Her unbridled wrath nearly knocked him off his barstool.

"You're a fat, disgusting, ignorant, misogynistic son of a . . . son of a . . "

Cindy stood by thinking, "say it, girl, come on - say it."

"son of a . . "

Confused, Cindy thought, "just say it!"

"You son of a GUN!" Charmaine blurted out as she turned and ran crying back into the office.

"Son of a gun?" Cindy thought as she turned and followed her in back.

The entire bar sat for a moment in stunned silence then Bilge spoke up, "Did she say something about a massage?"

Bucky shook his head and replied, "She called you a misogynist, you moron."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 9

2009-03-16T09:13:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy could best be described as the proverbial "mother hen" of the Village Inn.

She was, by nature, a caring and nurturing person and that care and nurture was lavished upon her customers and especially upon her fellow employees. It was for that reason that she reacted so strongly to Bilge's treatment of Charmaine.

"BILGE! What did you say to her?"

The aged angler stuttered and stammered, "What . . what did I do? Bucky, help me out here. . . hey, Cindy . . Cindy . . ."

But, his cries went unheeded as Cindy vanished back through the kitchen and into the office looking for the distraught Charmaine.

Cindy found her on the phone carrying on a frantic conversation and decided not to bother her. Walking back into the lounge, she was greeted by an equally frantic Simza.

"Cindy. Come quickly!"

Knowing Simza the way that Cindy did, she knew it was no use to argue so she obediantly followed the gypsy into the dining room.

"What is it?" Cindy asked.

Simza motioned for her to be seated in the booth where she had been sitting, doing her reading. Sitting down next to her - she took Cindy's hand.

"Cynthia, my concerns for you were real!"

"How so?"

Simza looked up at the ceiling and waved her hands about in the air.

"I have seen great and terrible things about your future!"

Cindy was somewhat surprised, "Terrible things in my future?"

"YES!" Simza grabbed her hand again and gazed intently into her eyes. "You must tread ever so cautiously the next several days - there is peril at every turn!"

Cindy had never taken Simza's claims of clairvoyance seriously but something about her current intensity made her wonder and take pause.

"Simza . . what are you talking about? Should I be afraid?"

"You should be CAREFUL!"

"Careful? Why? What should I be careful of?"

"O.K. Let me tell you what Simza sees. First: those close to you have begun to change and act very strangely - have you noticed?"

Cindy thought about Michelle and the peculiar way she reacted after her braid was ripped off - and then there was Sky; he certainly had changed.

"Oh my god - Simza, you're right!"

"See, SEE! Simza knows these things. Now, Cindy, listen to Simza. There's more: there is a thief amongst you, here at the inn by the village."

"It's The Village Inn . ."

"Whatever. . . . there is someone who takes that which does not belong to them. WATCHOUT!"

Cindy thought a moment and then remembered that Chrystal's money had been missing the night before. Her eyes grew big as she whispered, "Oh my goodness, Simza, Chrystal's money was stolen last night!"

Simza grabbed Cindy and hugged her tightly. "There is one more thing."

Cindy was now completely convinced of her sagacity. "What Simza . . . what else?"

The gypsy took her hand again, "Well . . . . I see two men coming into your life - soon, very soon. One - not so exciting, not so handsome but perfect for you. The other; very intoxicating, very charming but BEWARE! He brings great danger and must be avoided at all costs. Both will pursue you but you must be be very discerning. It is essential that you choose properly - with your mind, not with your lady parts!"

"Oh, Simza, I'm afraid . . . wait . . . did you say 'lady parts?'"

"Don't be afraid - be smart!"

..................................... C h o o s e W i s e l y , Cindy !..............................................Mr. Right?

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 8

2009-03-13T15:41:00.000-07:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy watched in stunned silence as Sky vanished down the street. She wondered what this world was coming to as she turned and walked back inside.

Entering the V.I., she stopped in the doorway and scanned the lounge. Slowly, her eyes passed over the rowdy, young brunch crowd; she smelled the popcorn burning in the popcorn machine.

"CHARMAINE! the popcorn's burning," she yelled.

Her eyes continued past the server's register, the coffee station, through the windows of the kitchen doors - the cooks scrambling to fill the breakfast orders - and around to the bar where sat some of her favorite and not so favorite people.

This was her world, four - sometimes five days a week and had been for years. She wondered how it was possible to love something you hated so much. Sadly, her sentimental moment of reflection was halted by the frantic, apologizing voice of Charmaine.

"Cindy. I didn't start the popcorn - it was Spencer. If I'd been the one to start it I would have paid attention to it . . . it's not . ."

"Stop," Cindy replied, "we all burn the popcorn - don't worry about it."

As the two of them walked past the bar a long time regular lecher swung around on his stool and inquired, "So Cindy, who's this sweet little thing you got there - she's new isn't she?"

Stopping, Cindy proceeded with introductions.

"Charmaine, I'd like you to meet 'Bilge.' Bilge - Charmaine"

Bilge, as he liked to be called, was a lascivious retired fisherman who claimed to have out lived three wives. He could be found most afternoons and weekends plopped atop a V.I. barstool and always wearing the same things: a Reyn Spooner shirt (size XXXL), khaki shorts and a weathered pair of Birkenstocks that cradled the gnarliest pair of old dry, cracked feet anyone would never want to see.

"Hey there - Charmaine was it?'

Charmaine took the chubby red hand he'd extended and answered, "Yes, but I prefer to be called CharTruce."

"Chartreuse? You mean like the color?"

"No. See, my name is Charmaine Truce and some of my crazy friends started calling me CharTruce - get it? Like Char from Charmaine and . ."

"Yeah, yeah I get it. CharTruce. I got it."

"Your name's unusual," Charmaine returned, "did you say, Bilge?"

"Yep, Bilge but some people call me 'Pump.' Doesn't matter to me - either one."

"I like 'Pump!'" Charmaine squealed.

"Well then, by golly, call me Pump!"

Cindy decided to leave these two alone and get back behind the bar to start on the back log of drink orders that had been placed. As she got to the well Simza announced that she was ready to do her reading.

"Oh my gosh, Simza - I forgot all about that. Listen, what do you need from me?"

The old gypsy took the last swig of her tequila and told her, "Take this cotton ball and rub your wrists, behind your ears and down your cleavage with it."

Cindy looked surprised as she took the cotton ball from her and asked, "Down my cleavage?"

"Do as I say!" Simza barked back, impatiently.

Cindy laughed, turned and walked through the opening in the wall into the empty dining room so as to insure privacy.

"Don't forget your wrists and behind your ears!" Simza yelled.

"I got it, I got it!" Cindy responded as she came back into the bar and handed Simza the cotton ball. "Is that all you need?"

"No. I need a cup of hot water, salt and a quiet place to work," Simza demanded.

"Oh crap," Cindy whispered. "Hang on."

Cindy retrieved the water and the salt and placed them in front of Simza. "You can go into the dining room if you want. No one will bother you there."

Simza gathered the items and slunk off into the dining room.

Cindy seized this momentary lull in the insanity to catch up on making drinks for the servers. As she got busy she couldn't help but over hear the nutty conversation between Charmaine and Bilge.

"So you say you didn't vote for Obama? Cause I'd take you for one of them liberal types that'd voted for Obama," Bilge declared to Charmaine.

"What I said was, I'm a liberal but I didn't vote for Obama," she replied.

"Now . . wait a minute. You said you voted, right?"

"Yes. I voted."

"And you're a liberal, right?"

"Right."

"But you didn't vote for Obama?"

"No. I wrote in the canidate that I always vote for - have for, gosh, ten years."

"You wrote in? Who? Who'd you write in?"

"The person I think's most qualified - Bella Abzug."

"Bella ABZUG?! That pushy broad?"

"She's not pushy - I think she's awesome!"

"I think she's dead!" Bilge replied as he looked across the bar at Bucky who was minding his own business. "Hey, Bucky!"

Bucky turned and looked his way.

"Bucky, didn't that old cow, Bella Abzug die?"

Bucky looked confused, "Bella Abzug? Yeah, she died . . . . years ago."

Bilge began to laugh as he looked back at Charmaine, "See there. You voted for a dead woman! Unbelievable!"

His uncontrolled laughter hurt her feelings.

"You hear that, Bucky? Bella Abzug! UNBELIEVABLE! That just proves my point from yesterday - idiots, they're all idiots! First we let 'em drive then we gave 'em the vote. What're we CRAZY?!"

Humiliated, Charmaine ran into the kitchen.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 7

2009-03-06T15:35:00.000-08:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Simza nursed her drinks while Cindy filled cocktail orders for the servers and tended to the needs of her bar crowd. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a familiar face jogging by out front. It was Sky Bingham.

Sky had been a beloved regular at the V.I. for a few years but she hadn't seen him for several weeks now.

"Where has he been?" she muttered to herself as she waved in an effort to catch his attention but he just kept going; he completely ignored her.

"That's weird," she said as she ran from behind the bar, through the front door and out onto the sidewalk. Spotting him she called out, "Sky!"

He stopped abruptly and sheepishly turned around.

Cindy put her hands on her hips and demanded, "What are you doing? Get over here, you!"

Slowly he began the half block walk back toward her and as he approached she flung her arms wide open and squealed, "Hey sexy! Where the hell have you been?!"

She embraced him tightly and could tell that he was not reciprocating. She pulled away and looked at him but he avoided eye contact.

"So, Sky, what's up? I've been wondering what happened to you. You haven't returned my text messages and everyone says they haven't been able to get a hold of you . . . what's going on?"

Finally looking at her, he smiled, "Hey, Cindy."

She took a step back and gave him a visual once over from top to bottom, "Damn, dude - you're looking good! Have you been working out or what? You're so fit and trim - it's great! Look at you!"

He laughed and timidly answered, "Yeah . . . well sort of. See, I've found the 'New Way' and now nothing about me's the same and it never will be ever, ever again."

"New way, what new way? What are you talking about?"

"Cindy, the most amazing thing has happened. A few months ago I met this guy, Zoltan, he's the guru of the 'New Way' and he showed me how messed up my life was; how awful my world was and he showed me the awesome 'New Way.' Now I'm one with everything that is and ever will be; isn't that beautiful? Cindy, you really should come follow the 'New Way,' you'll never be the same.

"Why would I do that? I'm happy with the old way. I don't understand this; you're really freaking me out, Sky . . . really freaking me out!"

"Oh and by the way, I don't go by Sky anymore."

"Really."

"No. I go by my new 'New Way' name."

"And what might that be, pray tell."

"Well . . . it's Hank."

"HANK?!"

"Yeah. Zoltan picked it out especially for me. Do you like it? - he said it was perfect for me."

"HANK? Are you kidding me? Sky is like the coolest name EVER and you're gonna let some guy named Zoltan go and change it to something lame like Hank?"

"Zoltan said you people wouldn't understand. You don't have a CLUE about the 'New Way'."

"I guess I don't but let me ask you this. Don't they let you eat in the 'New Way'? I mean, why are you so thin?"

"Oh we eat all the time; mainly algae, plankton and we drink a ton of yak's milk."

"Yak's milk?"

"Lots of it!"

Spencer came running out the V.I. and onto the sidewalk. Spotting her, he called out, "Cindy - DRINKS!"

Without looking back she yelled, "Yeah. I'll be right there."

She stared at the stranger standing before her and gently placed her hand on his cheek, "I want my Sky back."

Pulling away, he looked down then back up at her and responded, "He's gone. Sky's gone for good. It's Hank now and it's the 'New Way' all the way!" and with that he turned and jogged off down the street.

Cindy was beyond speechless.
..........................................................................................................................................The "Old Way"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.

Episode 6

2009-03-05T14:19:00.000-08:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy's stolen moment of rest would be short lived. As she leaned back in Trudy's office chair a familiar roar approached which caused her to shout the dreaded name, "SIMZA!"

"Oh god, please don't let it be her," she mumbled as she bounded out of the office and through the kitchen door. But, alas, her fears were materializing right before her eyes. She watched, helplessly, as the tragic and most peculiar camper with a bad muffler jocked back and forth trying to wedge itself into a parking spot in front of the V.I.

The automobile, a 1973 American Motors Gremlin with a camper attached, belonged to a Romanian gypsy named Simza who had happened into the V.I. a couple of years before when the vehicle in question broke down on Marine Ave. Cindy, ever the helpful one, had taken pity upon the old soothsayer and generously offered the use of her Triple A card for towing and even recommended a repairman who's bill she eventually got conned into paying.

What gypsy doesn't love an easy mark and from that day forward Simza made regular pilgrimages to the V.I. to see her "beloved saint," Cindy. Each visit usually wound up costing Cindy at least $100.00.

"Hey, quick, come here!" Cindy yelled to Spencer.

Walking over, Spencer inquired, "What's up?"

"See that beat up blue car with the camper out front?"

"Yeah."

"There's and old gypsy woman driving it that's gonna come in here looking for me and I don't want to talk to her."

"O.k., so you want me to tell her you're not here?"

"Yeah, please. I'll be in the office."

"O.k., but I just put in an order for a bunch of drinks."

"Well, is it beer or wine, I mean, you can get those, can't you?"

"Some are beers but two are Blue Hawaiians and there's three Bahama Mama's."

Cindy hung her head in frustration then looked up again, "I'm gonna KILL Chrystal! O.k., never mind."

"I can tell them it'll be a minute if you want."

"No . . . I'll make the stupid drinks and deal with the crazy gypsy woman!"

Cindy stepped back behind the bar and grabbed the Blue Curacao to make the Blue Hawaiians and by the time she got to the well she could hear the familiar sounds and smell the familiar smells of Simza. The sound was a sort of rustling and clinking of glass and the smell was a combination of incense, patchouli, funky cheese and dirty gym socks.

"Cindy . . . my darling Cindy!" Simza cried with her deep Romanian accent as she entered the bar.

Everyone in the place turned and gave a unanimous look of shock and disbelief as the elderly, shabby Simza spun around three times clapping her hands and finishing with a loud, "HEY!".

Cindy called back, "Hello, Simza. Come sit here at the bar."

"Oh, of course my precious one . . . of course!"

As she made her way toward the bar her voluminous costume brushed up against everyone she passed, "Oh, sorry. Please, excuse, excuse me. I must see my precious Cindy. Sorry, please excuse me."

Finally, firmly planted on the last barstool, she extended her weathered hands to Cindy and smiled her semi-toothless smile.

"Oh Cindy. It's so good to see you, Cindy."

Cindy took her hands and smiled back with her perfectly bleached, invisalign straightened smile, "It's good to see you too, Simza. I see the car is still working."

"Oh yes. Thanks god for you Cindy!"

"Well I'm glad. So what brings you over this way my dear?"

"Well. I've been having GREAT worry for you."

"ME?" Cindy asked.

"Yes, Cindy and I wanted to come and do a special reading for your future."

"A special reading for my future, huh?"

"Yes."

"What's it gonna cost me?"

"Well, Simza is running a special today. One reading for two drinks. Special, just for you."

"Two drinks, huh?"

"Just for you and just for today!"

Cindy still had her two shift drinks so she figured, what the heck.

"O.k., I'll do it."

"O.k. but first, please . . . the drinks."

"Alright. What are you drinking?"

"Two Cuervo shots, chilled, no salt, in a rocks glass, one lime and a Modelo chaser."

"We don't have Modelo."

"Tecate?"

"No Tecate."

"Carta Blanca?"

"No Carta Blanca."

"Bohemia . . . Superior?"

"Nope."

" Mickey's Big Mouth?"

"NO! How about a Pacifico?"

Simza turned and spit on the floor. "That tastes like what the cat puts in the litter box!"

"Corona?"

"O.k., Corona's o.k. - I take a Corona."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.

Episode 5

2009-03-04T14:16:00.000-08:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy put a brunch menu down on the bar in front of the enormous, balding man wearing madras shorts, Rockport walking shoes and a tee-shirt that said, "Minnesota is for Lovers!"

"Here you go. We're serving brunch until 2:00 p.m. This is the menu and we also offer $7.00 bottomless champagne."

The bulbous tourist, who's equally rotund wife and chubby children stood waiting at the door, perused the menu, glanced back at his family, then turned to Cindy.

"How's about I give ya $8.00 for 'topless' champagne," he whispered while smiling and winking at Cindy.

Shaking her head in disgust and disbelief, Cindy grabbed the menu out of his hand and suggested, "Try Wilma's across the street." With that she turned around, stormed out from behind the bar and into the office, plopping down in front of Trudy's desk. Groaning loudly, she ran her hands through her hair, threw back her head and screamed, "I can't deal with this!"

Cindy never worked the Sunday brunch shift except in extreme emergencies. Trudy knew this and hated to ask her but it was obvious the night before that Michelle was not going to be able to do it. By the time the paramedics had finished tending to her and her roommate arrived to take her home she was nearly incoherent. She kept taking the dismembered braid and sticking it up to the side of her head saying, "Mommy, fix it . . . Mommy, fix it." I was just tragic.

How could Cindy not say yes - of course she would cover poor Michelle's shift but she also knew that by doing so she was signing on to work the most hideous double shift ever. First of all, the brunch shift meant that she had to show up at the ungodly hour of 9:30 AM! and then work all day and into the evening when the place turned into the Viagra Ballroom!

How would she ever get through this, she wondered.

She needed a stimulus plan: 3 Redbulls and a handful of mexican amphetamines!

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.!

Episode 4

2009-03-03T17:55:00.000-08:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Trudy and Chrystal stared into an empty drawer trying to figure out where Chrystal's cash had gone while Charmaine sat at the bar pouring her heart out to Cindy who was practicing the art of passive listening and cleaning at the same time.

"Well, that was six years ago. Then I met Scoots."

"Scoots?" Cindy asked. "Well, his real name was Gaylord but I called him 'My Li'l Scoots'."

"Wow. I guess if I had to choose between Gaylord and Scoots I'd have to go with Scoots too," Cindy replied.

"Yeah, he was real special."

"O.k., so what happened to . . . Scoots?"

"Well . . . he had one little problem. He was a cross-dresser and I couldn't take it."

"I can understand that," Cindy added.

"He got real mad because I couldn't just accept it. He called me a . . a . . um. ."

"A homophobe?"

"No, no not that. He wasn't gay. I guess you could say I'm a 'homelyophobe' cause he made a real ugly woman and I couldn't stand to look at him."

Cindy, now curious, couldn't help but ask, "Did he wear your clothes?"

"Oh no . . . see, he was not a normal cross-dresser. He liked to dress up like famous women from history."

"WHAT?"

"I'm serious. You know like: Eleanor Roosevelt, Amelia Earhart or Queen Victoria."

"Are YOU kidding me?" Cindy asked.

"No, Cindy, I'm not. And . . . well, it got so bad that . . well, it was really those twenty eight days of Betty Ford that finally did it for me. I just had to get out!"

"He went to Betty Ford for treatment?"

"Oh, no. He spent twenty eight days dressed as Betty Ford. I'm sorry; I just couldn't look at that anymore!"

........................................................................BETTY FORD

....................................................................."SCOOTS" McNEALY TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I. !

Episode 3

2009-03-02T21:24:00.000-08:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy was worried as she stood by the bar with Trudy who'd just shown up. They both watched as the paramedics attended to Michelle's head wound; all this while Michelle sat silently staring at the beloved, bloody braid she was holding in her hand.

"Trudy, look at her," Cindy said. "Poor thing - she loved that braid."

"Gosh, I know. Maybe she could just bobby pin it back in place, you know," Trudy added.

"TRUDY!"

"Well, I don't know . . . oh, Cindy, look."

"Oh my god, Trudy, what is she doing?"

"Well, it looks like she's petting it . . . like a cat or something."

"That is just sad."

Across the bar Chrystal, Fermin and the new girl, Charmaine were busy picking up over turned tables, chairs and debris left behind by the melee.

It was Charmaine's first night training as a server and Chrystal assured her that this type of thing doesn't normally happen here but Charmaine wasn't concerned - she kind of liked it. She found the whole experience exciting.

Most people that knew her found Charmaine Truce to be an odd young lady. She was a bi-polar, single mother living in a Costa Mesa triplex. Her friends called her CharTruce and she liked that.

Charmaine was hooked on "America's Most Wanted." She'd watched it for years and had, in fact, been fired from her last job as a waitress because she twice thought she recognized a customer in the restaurant where she worked as one of the fugitives from the show. The first time it happened the cops considered it an innocent mistake but the second time the SWAT team surrounded the place and it was a mess. There was something about criminals and criminal activity that fascinated her.

Chrystal walked over to Charmaine who was clearing off one of the few tables that had been left standing and tapped her on the shoulder, "Charmaine."

Turning around she answered, "Please call me CharTruce."

"Oh, o.k. - uh, listen, Fermin'll finish cleaning this up. Let me show you how to close out and do your paper work."

"O.K."

The two of them walked over to the computer and Chrystal showed her how to run her closing sales report; once that was finished she opened the drawer to retreive her cash.

"That's funny," Chrystal said.

"What's that?"

Chrystal rummaged through the drawer. "My money . . . it's not in here."

Looking away Charmaine responded, "It's not?"

"No, it's not. It's gone!"

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I. .................................."Where's my money?!!"

Episode 2

2009-03-02T20:38:00.000-08:00

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

The scene in front of the V.I. was nothing short of surreal. Eleven Newport Beach police cars, two fire trucks and an ambulance all parked helter skelter with lights flashing.

The whole neighborhood, along with all the patrons from the bar, were milling about outside watching as the last Tree Hugger was cuffed and placed in the back of a police car.

Ryan and Cindy restrained Michelle as she shook her fist at the hefty, vegan songstress, "Come on back when you get out of jail and I'll give you a piece of meat . . . right in the FACE!"

"Michelle, MICHELLE!" Cindy shouted, "Forget it."

"Let me go!" Michelle yelled as she pulled herself away from the two of them and as she did, she felt something warm running down her arm. Touching it she realized it was blood.

"Cindy, tell me I'm not bleeding!"

Cindy pulled her into the light and saw that she was indeed bleeding but not from her arm. "Honey, I think it's coming from the side of your head . . . oh, wait."

It was then that Cindy realized the awful truth - it was coming from where her braided pigtail USED to be.

Her scream could be heard across the bay.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.

Episode 1

2009-03-02T19:06:00.000-08:00

Monday, March 2, 2009

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

The music was pounding and so was Cindy's head as she stood behind the bar washing dishes. She tried to yell over the mind numbing cacaphony of bad music, drunken chatter and the whine of the dish washing machine, "Michelle!"

Michelle, who was working the other end of the bar and in no mood to be there, turned her way and answered, "What?"

"Is this the weirdest night or what?!"

"Are you kidding me? They're all weird," Michelle shot back.

It was Saturday night at the V.I. and things weren't going well. Trudy had booked a new band called Peta & the Tree Huggers and unbeknownst to her, Peta & the Tree Huggers consisted of 4 angry lesbian vegetarians who began their set by verbally abusing all of the patrons who were eating meat.

"Death to the carnivores! A one, a two, a 1,2,3,4." And with that they were off; playing the most vulgar, dissonant racket ever heard at the V.I.

Soon, up went a unanimous howl from the regulars at the bar.

"Cindy! Who are these communists?" barked one guy. "Go back to San Francisco!" screamed another.

Michelle walked over to Cindy and yelled over the noise, "Are these chicks serious? This isn't gonna work! First of all, it's too loud and second, we're going to have a riot on our hands."

"You're right," Cindy shouted back.

Michelle decided she would stop the music and have a word with "Peta" the lead "singer" and as she approached the stage waving her hands Peta yelled, "Back off!" and kicked over the table in front of her which fell on Michelle's foot.

Needless to say, this didn't sit well with Michelle who responded by grabbing the end of Peta's guitar. When she did, the bass player, "Sprouts," kicked her with her Doc Martens and then all bets were off.

Michelle punched Sprouts then tackled Peta and the two of them went crashing into the drums, trapping the drummer, "Herbal Annie" in the corner. Chaos ensured!

Horrified, Cindy grabbed the phone and dialed 911.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME
FOR ANOTHER EXCITING
EPISODE OF MY V. I.