Wednesday, September 9, 2009

the author encourages you to start at the beginning!
TO GET TO THE 1ST EPISODE, SCROLL TO THE BOTTOM AND CLICK ON "OLDER POSTS"
**MY V.I. (a soap opera) is a fictional story about a very real place - THE VILLAGE INN

Episode 39

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.!

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Episode 38

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 .

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Episode 37

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!!!


Thursday, July 23, 2009

Episode 36

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.!

Friday, July 17, 2009

Episode 35

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.!

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Episode 34

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.!

Monday, June 15, 2009

Episode 33

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

Saturday, June 13, 2009

MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR




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

Friday, June 12, 2009

Episode 32



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.!

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Episode 31

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.!