'Cuse me please, one more violent crime

Recap of the latest mishap:  With the insane deadline pressing down on them, Mike, Olivia and Jane head right from the airport to a nearby wedding boutique to begin filming.  Before heading into the store, Jane stops at a liquor store and proceeds to get smashed, just in time to try on some dresses.

“I would be an amazing pimp.  Or madam.  I guess I’d be a madam, because I’m a girl,” Jane said to the camera. 

“I’d be great,” she continued, taking a sip from her bottle of scotch and then shoving it back into her purse.  “I’m organized. Very efficient.  I know how to keep a schedule.  Are you filming all of this?”

Mike giggled behind the lens.  Selma and Olivia were in a dressing room, struggling with yards of tulle and white lace, Dougie had curled up in a large armchair in the waiting area and had fallen asleep and Jane was in rare drunken form.

She had run around, picking bridesmaids dresses off the rack and trying them on in the middle of the aisle, stripping down to her bra and panties and throwing the dresses on as if they were sacks.  Mike was certain he had heard fabric ripping as she tore them on and off and he prayed that Selma, the shop owner, was hard of hearing.  They didn’t have the budget to pay for piles of ripped garments.

Jane had pounced on Olivia, demanding she make a choice about her “colors.”  Olivia had shrugged, saying that she didn’t really know or care.  Jane got agitated and stalked away, looking for light purple and baby blue.  “The blue will bring out my eyes!” she had called over her shoulder. “My eyes will really pop in the pictures!”

Now Jane sat next to Mike, dressed in a shimmery blue mermaid dress with a lopsided blue flower in her hair that she had snatched from the accessory rack for the “full effect,” and was talking about her underground sex empire.

“You can keep talking.  I'm just shooting B roll, babe,” Mike said.  “Enough about prostitution though.  We need to keep this at least PG-13.  So tell us how you feel about being here with your best friend – are you happy for Olivia?  What’s going through your mind?”

“Oh I’m thrilled!  I’m just so thrilled!” Jane gushed, waving her arms around.  “I’ve done this before – this wedding stuff – so I am a pro.  And I love her so I’m going to make the day all about her! I – hold on a minute…”

Jane went silent and seemed to sway in the folding chair.  Mike kept rolling as she unceremoniously barfed on the floor. Twice.

“That is sexy,” Mike said sarcastically.  “And classy.”

“Oh shit!” Jane said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  “Shit!  We’ve got to cover this up!”  She looked around frantically.  Right in front of the dressing room door, there was a neat stack of dresses that Olivia had already tried on but had not liked.  Jane ran and dragged about three dresses over to the liquidy lumps and plopped them over the pile of sick, then sat down like nothing had happened. 

“Do you have a toothbrush?  Some toothpaste?”  she whispered to Mike.

“You have them in your luggage.  I can’t believe you just did that.  Don’t you think that Selma is going to eventually put those dresses back on the rack?  She’s not just going to leave them in a pile on the floor, you stupid cow,” Mike said.

“Well, we’ll be long gone by the time she does that.”

Mike’s phone alerted him that he had a message.  He paused the camera.  Jane went over to Selma’s desk, urgently looking for a mint candy. 

“Oh hey,” Mike said, staring at his phone.  “James friended me.  On Facebook.”

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Jane said running over.  “Ok, so now you send him a message asking him if he knows my phone number because you’ve lost it.  He’ll start thinking about me, maybe the two of you can message back and forth and BOOM- I’ll have a wedding date.”

Jane took a gulp of scotch and stared off into the distance for a moment.  “Hey – is his phone number listed on his FB page?”

“Um, it is,” Mike said with hesitation.  “But I strongly advise against drunk dialing him.  You’ve just barfed and that dress and flower in your hair only adds to the derangement that is you.  Drunk dialing will not win you this date.”

“I’m not going to drunk dial him!” Jane yelped, “I just want to hear his voice.  I’m going to call him, I’m going to listen to his voice, maybe listen to him breathe for a minute, and then I will hang up.  Give me your phone.”

“You are so creepy.  And I can’t give you my phone because he’ll know who is calling him and he’ll wonder why the hell I first friend him and then immediately call him.”

  That’s not horrible,” Jane said defiantly and held out her hand for the phone.  Mike sighed and gave it to her.

“I’m going to need quarters too.”

“I think I found the dress!” Olivia squealed from inside the dressing room.  “Tell me what you think!”

Olivia came out, blonde hair swept up in her right hand, in a gorgeous white sheath dress that made her look like a Grecian Goddess.  The fabric fell gently in all of the right places and in short, she looked amazing.

In spite of himself, Mike felt a tear form in his eye.  “Oh Liv.  You look stunning.  Let me get some shots.  Whatever you do – don’t look into the lens!”

“What do you think, Jane?” Olivia asked.

But Jane was out the door, still in a dress she didn’t own, stuffing quarters into a pay phone.  James’ phone rang once, rang twice.  On the third ring, Jane’s pickled heart sank as she expected to hear a recording telling her to leave her name and number.  But to her shock, he picked up.

“Hello?” he said.  “This is James.”

Jane’s right hand rose to her neck.  She hadn’t heard that voice in months but it still made her skin prickle with excitement. 

“Hello?  Is someone there?” James asked.

Jane remained silent.

“Hey, if this is a prank or something –“ he said.

“No!” Jane suddenly spoke out, disguising her voice and making it lower.  “This isn’t a prank. Let me talk to James McGowen.  Now!”  Jane had absolutely no idea what the hell she was doing.  She could have been possessed for all she knew.

“This is James.  Who’s this?”

“This.  Is.  Someone you don't know,” Jane stuttered.  “I’m calling from. A place very close to you."

"What?" he asked.

 "I'm.  Stalking.  You."

"What the hell?"  James yelled.  

"That's right," Jane said, searching the depths of her brain for material.  "I'm your stalker.  I'm stalking you and your band.  And I'm gonna...kill... you?"

What the hell am I doing? Jane screamed inside her head.  I just threatened to kill my ex?  How much scotch did I drink and why the fuck's sake am I so morose!

"Look you friggin weirdo, I don't know who you are, but if I catch you around me or my band, I'm going beat your ass in.  Do you understand me?  If you call me again, I'm getting the police involved."

With a violent slam, the line went dead.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jane said, her back against the phone booth.  She looked up at the night sky and reached into her purse.  She pulled out the scotch and took a long swig as she stared at the stars.  This was fine, she told herself.  This was going to be fine. 

She'd figure out how to smooth this stalker issue over, get James to Ohio for the wedding and it would all be beautiful.  Maybe she could save him from this "stalker" of his.  She could be his savior! Jane took another swig.  Yes. Everything would be fine.  She was now a unemployed waitress, a wannabe actress, a bridesmaid for the second time and a criminal.  Mom would be proud.

Mike ran out from the store, lugging his camera, slightly out of breath.  “She’s found the dress!  It looks gorgeous.  Come back into the store.  I need you on camera gushing over it.”  Mike paused and looked at Jane.  “You called him.  Did you say anything?”

“Yes.”

“Something nasty that you will regret?”

“I don’t regret anything.”

"You once got crabs.  Do you regret that?"

"Yes.  But that is all." 

“Did you say something most normal human beings with emotions and hearts would regret?”

“No.  And he’s going to be here for the wedding.”

“Holy crap,” Mike said as they walked.  “You work fast!  So… was it a total mushy romantic reunion?  Had he been missing you too?”

“Yes.  He’s missing me.  Stop talking!  Let’s get filming!” Jane whooped and ran into the store.

"Where Are the Nips?"

Recap of the latest mishap:  After finding Olivia in the airport with her small son, Dougie, Mike and Jane start making their way to the car.  Then Jane’s laxatives kick in.  She cuts several women waiting in line for the restrooms, claiming she is pregnant with two, possibly three, babies.  Alice, a random senior citizen, insists on carrying Jane’s luggage to the car, and assaults Mike with a cane.

“I’m not sitting with the kid in the back.  I hate kids.  No way I’m sitting in the back.  You need to sit in the back.  Kids spit and barf and drool on people and only my boyfriends are allowed to do that shit to me,” Jane whispered to Mike. 

“I’d love to sit in the back with this little dude!” Mike announced, stuffing luggage into the trunk of Olivia’s car.

“Oh that’s so wonderful!” Olivia said as she strapped Dougie securely into the car seat. 

“You ok, little man?” she cooed.  Dougie nodded his head and flashed his mother a toothy, dribbly smile.  Jane watched the drool drip down his chin and onto the front of his shirt.  She cringed.  “I get front!”

Alice, the elderly lady who was carrying Jane’s luggage, made certain that everything was carefully placed into the trunk.

“God bless you and those babies, dear,” Alice said, hugging Jane tight.  “And don’t let that man tell you what to do.  You do what you need to do for those two new lives in there.”

“Possibly three new lives!” Jane chirped.  “Thanks Alice!”  She got into the car.

Driving with Olivia was as dangerous as it had been back in college.  The difference was that at present, Jane was somewhat sober.  Whenever Olivia drove her around in the past, Jane was typically wasted. 

At the height of drunkdom, Olivia’s turns without a directional or hard hits of potholes never bothered Jane.  She would either be sticking her legs out the window of the car or roaring at other cars stopped at stop signs, growling “I’m a dinosaur!  Just like on Jurassic Park!  Gonna eat ya!” 

But now, with most of the day’s alcohol sweated or peed out of her body, Jane found herself in a disturbing reality.

As Jane gripped her knees, the door handle, the dashboard, Mike’s phone rang. 

“Baby, it’s me,” Dottie said.  “Did you get my email yet?”

“No,” Mike said.  “I just got in Olivia’s car.  We’ve been catching up.  Her son, Doug, is looking like a big man these days! What do you got for me, babe?”

“Ok, well, you should read the email, but the first things you should lock down are the dresses – bride, bridesmaids, maid of honor, etc.  And the tuxes for the grooms.  Also, you need to look at venues and get a preacher or someone.  I don’t know what religion Olivia is, so ask.  There are a slew of other things you need to do, but I figured this would be a good start for tonight,” Dottie reported.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Mike asked his wife.

“I haven’t seen you lately, Mister!” she joked.  “But I love you too.  Call before bed!  Let me know how things go.”

Mike hung up.  “Ok, ladies.  We need to go to the closest wedding dress boutique.  We’re gonna start filming tonight.”

“Tonight?”  Olivia asked.  “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.  I mean, I don’t think I’ve mentally prepped myself to be in front of the camera.  And Dougie.  I think this will keep him up kind of late.”

“Hair?  Make-up?”  Jane shouted.  “I don’t have either of them.”

“Everyone is going to be just fine,” Mike reassured them.  “Olivia, I won’t turn the camera on you much so there’s no reason to get upset.  I’ll be doing lots of pans of the dress shop, maybe some interviews with the shop owners.   Certainly some shots of you trying on dresses, but at no point will I need you to look into the lens.  And Dougie looks like he’s full of energy. “

“Hair!   Make-up!” Jane repeated.

“You’re going to have to do them yourself, babe.  We don’t have time to stop at a salon.  Just whip your hair up into a ponytail.  Bring your eyes out and your lips.  You’ll be fine,” Mike said.

Jane started cursing a blue streak under her breath as she reached into her purse and pulled out charcoal gray eyeliner.  She whipped out her compact and started applying just as Olivia smacked into a pot hole, sending the pencil flying across Jane’s temple. 

“Michael!” she shrieked.  “If I stab myself in the eyeball, I am suing you.  I am taking your kids’ college tuition and they will be left with nothing!  No future for your family!”

“Sorry, Jane!” Olivia whimpered apologetically.  “Didn’t see that back there.  The closest dress shop is just a couple of miles up here on our right.  And there’s a liquor store right near by.”

“You know me too well and that is why I love you,” Jane said, rubbing the kohl off her temple and attempting to reapply it to her eye. 

They pulled into Sunshine Acres Mall and found a space.  Jane’s conception of a mall had always included several stores – at least 40.  With a  food court.  And restrooms. 

This “mall” was made up of a bridal store, a liquor store, a pizzeria, a quickie mart and a lawyer’s office.  With the car in park, Jane dove out and raced to the booze store.  Mike and Olivia gathered Dougie and a small video camera and headed into the store.

“I need nips!”  Jane gasped to the 17 year-old behind the counter.  “Where are the nips?”

“From wear I’m looking,” the acne-covered, future inmate said, “They’re right in front of me.”  He looked down at Jane’s boobs.  “I guess the air conditioning is on.”

“You are so very funny.  So very.  Fucking.  Funny,” Jane said, her voice low and even.  “Which is why I won’t kill you right now.  I will allow you to live.  Point me to the small bottles of alcohol and the big bottles of vodka and you will not be harmed.  I am on my period.  If I do kill you, I can and will blame it on a temporary hormonal imbalance and loss of sanity. Chances are, I will get away with it.  Shithead.”

The boy scoffed at Jane, but pointed her to the baskets of nips.  “The vodka is on the back wall.”

Jane ran.  She grabbed five nips, then a bottle of vodka.  She threw her credit card down on the counter at the kid, then started pounding the nips.

“Hey.  Ma’am,” the kid said.  “You need to pay for that before you down it.”

“Then run my fucking credit card.  Dude.”  Jane was on nip number three.  Soon the blanket of wooziness would come. Soon.

With a scratch of a pen as a signature, Jane raced to the bridal shoppe.  Outside, she pounded nip number four.  She was beginning to feel the familiar warmth – a sign she was ready for lights, camera, and action.  She saw Mike following Olivia and a store employee with his camera.  Dougie was running in and out of dress racks. 

“I’m ready!” Jane announced, whipping out nip number five.  “I’m ready!”  She looked at the employee.  “Who are you? Mike, is she getting camera time?” 

Mike rushed right over to ameliorate the situation.  “Jane, this is Selma.  This is Selma’s shop, Jane, and she’s being very, very nice by allowing us to tape in the store.  I was just telling Selma how grateful we are.  We’re very grateful, right Jane?”

Jane glanced over at Selma, a short, apple-shaped woman with blonde, permed hair framing her round face.  She couldn’t be more than 5’1”, Jane thought.  And those boobs – old and sturdy like a shelf.  She could balance dinner plates on those Old Faithfuls. 

“Thank you, Selma,” Jane said mechanically and mindlessly, like a school girl being ordered to thank a librarian.   The fuzziness of the alcohol was kicking in and Selma seemed tolerable.  Even her flowered, short sleeve blouse and gross khaki capris seemed tolerable.

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” Selma answered with a thick Southern drawl.  “Just wanna find something nice for this cute little gal to wear on the most important day of her life.”

“Actually, it’s not the most important day of her life,” Jane interrupted, pawing at some nearby dresses.  “She’s been married before.  So, maybe it’s the most of important day of her life, take two.”

“What do you suggest for Olivia’s body type, Selma?” Mike asked, directing attention away from Jane. 

“She’s a slim, pretty gal.  Seems to be to be traditional.  Although now that I know this is your second marriage….”

“I’m very traditional,” Olivia said, her cheeks turning bright pink.  “The first marriage just wasn’t healthy.  For me or my child.”

Selma nodded, knowingly.  She then turned to look into the camera.  “I had a friend whose husband used to beat her.  And luckily she escaped too.  I’m completely against domestic violence and you should be too.” 

“No!” Olivia yelped.  “He didn’t beat me, my husband didn’t beat me.  We just had different priorities and lifestyles.”

“Whatever it takes to help you sleep through the night, darling.  But I know you’re a survivor, girl,” Selma whispered, touching Olivia’s arm.

Olivia turned to Mike.  “Did you just tape that?  Did you tape that part about my ex beating me?  Because he didn’t. “

“I’ll take it out in editing,” he assured her.

Jane, now armed with about ten dresses, pounced on them.  She dumped all of the dresses on Selma, virtually burying the woman in lace and plastic. 

“Let’s try on some dresses!”  she yelled into the camera.  “Woooooohoooo!  Yeah, bitches!”  With that, she produced devil horns at the lens and then ran off to another aisle.

Airports and Dependable Overnight Relief

Recap of the latest mishap:  Jane and Mike are on the flight to Ohio, getting ready to meet Olivia at the airport.  Mike is dealing with a troll of a passenger and desperately trying to figure out how the hell he's going to pull the reality television show together.  Jane's just full of valium.  


Mike unbuckled his seat belt once the lit sign went dark and nudged Jane with his elbow.

“Boozing Beauty, we’re here.  We’re in Ohio,” he said, stretching his back as much as he could in the close quarters. 

To his left, was the Muppet, who had randomly passed out in the middle of knitting whatever she was knitting.  Her head was tilted back on a cushion of hair that looked like a bird’s nest made of wires and straw and her mouth hung open in a disapproving “o” shape.  It wasn’t hard to see that the Muppet shunned modern dentistry – three teeth had been lost somewhere in her life’s journey and the others were looking like the Indian corn Mike’s wife hung on the front door for Thanksgiving.

Mike smiled to himself as he realized he could nudge the Muppet and it wouldn’t be able to complain.  After all, he was doing it a service.  The plane had landed and it was important that everyone begin to unload.  With the sharpest elbow shape he could make, he pounded into her cake-like flesh. 

She croaked, or burped, then coughed as she came around, and started collecting her knitting supplies and stuffing them in a bag.  Jane was coming into the land of consciousness as well.

“That wasn’t a bad flight,” Jane offered, stretching.  “I actually feel pretty good.  That nap was what I needed.”  She looked at Mike.  “You, on the other hand, look like shit.  Didn’t you sleep?”

Mike shook his head and waited for the Muppet to waddle out of his way before he reached up to get the carry-on luggage. 

“We’re going to need to start filming, like right away,” he said.  He had spent most of the flight attempting to schedule out various shots but until he could read the email his wife was sending him about wedding preparation or in the very least talk to Olivia to see what she was planning to do, scheduling was a waste of time.

“That’s fine,” Jane shrugged as they walked out of the plane together.  “It’s still kind of early -we could probably even shoot some of the store scenes tonight.”

“At the very least, I can shoot Olivia at home, talking about how challenging all of this preparation is going to be, how she met her husband, why they need to married so quickly.  I can shoot the house, her kid… lots of good B roll if we can’t get into the stores.”

“Well hold your horses there, friend,” Jane said.  “I just need to get into hair and make-up and then you should start interviewing me.  Let’s not forget whose show this really is.  Ask me questions about maid of honor stuff – toasts, and being supportive and all that shit.  Oh!  Ask me about the bachelorette party.  That’s good!”

“Is she even going to have a bachelorette party?” Mike asked.  He scanned the crowded airport for Olivia’s familiar blond bob haircut.  “You have such a short window of time.  And on top of that, it’s not like Olivia’s young and crazy anymore.  She’s already been married once, she’s got a kid.  She might not be up for boozing.”

“Everyone is always up for boozing,” Jane dismissed him.  “So is hair and make-up coming to Olivia’s house?  What’s the deal?”

“We don’t have hair and make-up, Jane.  On such short notice, we’re lucky we have all the components of a basic crew. You’re on your own for hair and make-up.”

Jane squawked and smacked Mike’s arm.  “I cannot do my own make-up.  That’s ridiculous.”

“Shut up.  Act normal, Queen of Ugly.  There’s Olivia,” Mike said.

The cute, petite blond had spotted them from afar and was making her way towards them with her three year-old son on her hip.  Dressed in a peach top, jeans and high heels, she looked like the perfect homeroom yummy mommy.

“Hi you two!” she cried, reaching out her one free arm for hugs.  They all embraced and Olivia stood back to introduce the kid.

“Jane, Mike, this is Dougie.  You guys haven’t seen him for a long time.  Not since he was brand new,” Olivia said.  Dougie took one look at the two flight-weary travelers and hid in his mom’s shoulder.  

“Still a little shy,” Olivia mouthed.  “Well come on, let’s get your luggage and get you to the car.  You haven’t started filming me, right Mike?

“No darling,” Mike assured her.  “I’ll always let you know.”

Jane was pulling up the rear as their party walked towards to the luggage conveyor belt when she felt a sudden twist in her gut.  She kept walking, but soon there was another stab of insistence and Jane began to vaguely remember taking laxatives earlier in the day. 

“Oh dear God,” she mumbled to herself.  “Hey guys, I’m just going to visit the ladies’ room real quick.  Be right there.”

Jane casually walked towards the restroom.  Once in, she was all business.  There was a line of four women, all waiting to use the facilities.  One stall opened up just as Jane entered.  She dove for it and was about to slam the door to the stall behind her when two tan hands grabbed it open.  A tall, fit woman who might have been a fitness model glared at her.

“There’s a line, in case you missed it,” she told Jane, her brown eyes narrowing.

“I know, I just… I just have to go really badly,” Jane pleaded.  Her stomach was now going crazy with cramps and gurgles. “I just…need to go.  Like emergency go.”

“We all need to use the bathroom room, lady,” the woman said.  “But we’re all waiting our turn.  And so should you.”

Jane thought fast and produced a quick and dirty lie.  “Look, I’m sorry.  I’m pregnant.  With twins.  Maybe even triplets. There could be another person floating around in there, somewhere.  Behind my liver or something.  Super high risk pregnancy.  I just need to take care of myself.”

The woman’s face softened for just a moment and Jane seized the opportunity to slam the door shut and whip down her pants. 

Once she finished, Jane quietly exited the restrooms, hoping no one would notice her.  Mike and Olivia stood outside.  Dougie was playing at Olivia’s ankles.  

“Ready to go,” Jane announced and even grabbed a carry-on to show her team spirit.  Olivia grabbed Dougie up and once again they were headed for the car when an ancient-looking woman with blue hair made her way over to Jane and made scolding noises.

“Shouldn’t be carrying anything so heavy,” she said to Jane, wagging a gnarled finger at her.  “You’ve got to take care of those babies in your belly.  Here, let Alice help you.”

Alice, who was using a cane and was most likely Methuzalah’s older sister, grabbed the carry-on from Jane and began carrying it for her.  “So how far along are you?  You’re pretty skinny.  Those babies must be teeny-tiny.  What have you been eating?”

This woman must have been in the restroom, Jane thought.  Olivia and Mike stopped their conversation and looked at Alice, who was struggling beneath the heavy piece of luggage, and then to Jane. 

“I’m about 13 weeks along?” Jane answered.  “I come from a long line of really skinny people.  And we have really skinny babies.  That’s just how it is.”

“You’re pregnant, Jane?” Olivia demanded.

“Sort of,” Jane said.  “Why don’t you ask Mike about it.  I’m sure Mike will be able to talk about my pregnancy.”

“Is he the father?” Alice asked.

Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head, then turned around and continued walking.  Olivia joined him.

“Um.  Yes,” Jane said.  A few more white lies couldn’t hurt.  This woman was so old, she’d probably forget anything Jane said within a half hour anyway.

Alice quickened her pace until she was closer to Mike.  With a swift swish of her cane, she knocked him upside his head.  He hollered and dropped the luggage he was carrying and held his head in pain.

“What the hell?” he demanded.  “What was that for, dammit?”

“That was for not helping your wife when she needs you the most, you dimwit,” Alice growled.  

“We’re not married!” Mike yelled, picking up the luggage.  Alice looked confused.  Jane’s stomach lurched and she raced back to the public restroom.  

“Carrying twins is hard on the body,” Alice said aloud to no one in particular.  “No wonder that poor girl is so skinny.  The morning sickness must be horrible when you carry twins.  Stella Murphy, from Hillsview Street – she didn’t even KNOW she was carrying twins until the day they were born.  They just both popped right out, lickity split.  At least that girl knows what she’s getting into.”

There was a moment of silence as Alice drifted off somewhere.  

Olivia turned to Mike.  “So, Jane’s pregnant?  I think she should cut back on the drinking…”