Episode 27, originally published 06-Mar-97

Fresh Starts

Paul and The Bug are at Mary's house eating dinner again. "This was delicious, Mom! You really outdid yourself." Cricket nods her agreement. "Yes, and Mary, I just have to say I really appreciate the way you have tried to tone it down on the usual speeches about wanting a grandchild. I know you mean well, but it always makes me so uncomfortable." Mary gives The Bug an understanding smile. "Well, I just finally came to understand your point of view, Christine. It's just hard, you know, when you're old like me--and you've invested your whole life in assuring your own immortality through your children--to learn that your children have no interest in doing likewise. It's like knowing you're going to die, after all." Cricket gets a solemn look. "Gosh, Mary, I never saw it that way. What finally gave you peace then--was it your faith in the church?" Mary shakes her head. "Oh, my heavens, no, I--" We hear the sound of a baby crying in the background. "Would you two excuse me for a moment?" she says.

Victor is in his office. Jack and Jill enter. "Ah right, let's hear a report on the acquisition." Jack and Jill look abashed. "Sales are not nearly what we projected," Jack admits. "And yet you assured me this was a sure thing." Jill sighs. "Well," she says, "we just haven't gotten the sales numbers we expected." Victor raises an eyebrow skeptically. "What kind of business mumbo jumbo is THAT? Of course when sales aren't what you projected the sales numbers aren't what you expected. That's just two different ways of saying the same thing. How exactly DID you project these sales figures?"

At Mary's house, Mary is tucking a small baby into a crib. She looks up to see Christine and Paul clustered in the doorway watching her. "Isn't she adorable?" Mary asks. Christine nods. "She is--and she even looks a lot like you, Mary. But I don't get it--did you get into a foster mother's program? You never said anything about that..." Mary shakes her head. "No, I know I'm always preaching the benefits of foster parenting and of adoption--God knows society needs those things--but I don't think I have it in me to do them. No, no--this one's mine." "Yours?" asks Paul quizzically. "Mom, I know you like to say all kinds of things to make us feel guilty about not coming over for dinner, but we have been here more recently than 9 months ago--and you've NOT been pregnant!" We hear another crying baby on the other side of the room.

"Ok," Jill explains to Victor, "here's what we did: We looked around at the number of people who've been wearing black leather jackets lately." Jack nods. "That's right, Victor. There's you," he says pointing at the rescue jacket Victor is still wearing since some recent visit to the hospital. Jill interrupts, "and Paul Williams and that new guy on our board of directors--" "Tony," Jack prompts her. "Right, Tony. And his friend Grace. And my grandson's mother Nina. And Cole Howard--that man she obsesses over." "I know who Cole Howard is," Victor says impatiently. "So what's your point?" "Well, we figured that was about 63% of the people we know. So we multiplied 63% times the population of the United States and figured -- `wow! that's a lot of jackets' people will want. In round numbers, 250 million people--really 200 million since we're not yet ramped up for infant and toddler sizes-- well, it's still 126 million jackets at 100 bucks a jacket. It should be a $12billion dollar market." Victor's jaw has dropped.

"Miguel!" Nikki calls. A pause but no answer. "Miguel?" Nikki calls. Miguel enters, looking very sharp in a black leather jacket. "Oh, there you are Miguel. I'm going out and I just wanted to let you know. I know it's late but I'm expecting several important guests for dinner, so please make up a feast for--oh, let's say--10 people. And please see that the lawn is mowed and all the windows are washed." "For a night time affair? Who will know?" Nikki pauses for a moment as if this has never occurred to her. "Please don't give me any backtalk, Miguel. *I'll* know," she says glibly. "That's enough," she adds to punctuate the point. Miguel just stands there. "Is there a problem, Miguel?" "No..." "Then go, go, go..." she says, waving him away like a pesky mosquito.

"Oh, shhh!" Mary scolds Paul and Cricket, who watch as she goes from one baby to the other. "There now you've woken her sister." "Twins? You have twins. Mom, you say they're not adopted, and I know they're not yours--you couldn't have had twins. Oh, Mom, you didn't BUY them...." Mary glares at Paul. "Why Paul, I can't believe you'd accuse me of such a thing." Paul looks stumped. "Well, Mom, I just don't see any other choices. So you're basically telling me I have two new little sisters?" Mary shakes her head. "No, not exactly... Oh, Paul, I want you to know that I'll always love you even if you're not a very good private detective. Christine, explain it to him, will you?" Christine, who has been staring dumbfounded now for a few minutes nods and explains why. "There's only one other possibility. Paul, these babies are clones." Mary nods. "So you see, they're not your sisters--they're your mother. And long after I'm dead and gone--well, this one of me, I mean--they will be (well, I will be) around to guide you through life. So I'll have my immortality after all." She strokes the little Mary's head once more. "There now. Shall we go clear the table and think about perhaps having some dessert?"

Victor is still with Jack and Jill. He asks, "And of this $12billion market, you've sold...?" "37," Jack says. "Million?" Victor asks. "No, thirty-seven. One more than 3 dozen." Jill, who looks horribly upset and frustrated, blurts out, "I just don't understand it. It's as if the local population has a passion for black leather jackets that's out of proportion with the world at large. Isn't that funny?" Victor gets a weird smile on his face. "Yes, that's very funny. Hilarious. You're both fired." "Fired? just like that?" Jack asks. Victor shakes his head--"No, not just like that. You may pick up a black leather jacket on your way out. I hear it's cold on the streets this time of year."

"No, Nikki, I don't think I'll do any of that," Miguel says. "You don't think you'll WHAT? And please--it's either Mrs. Landers or Sra. Landers--you should know that by now." "I'm quitting. And you may call me Mr. Rodriguez--and none of that fake ethnic stuff, Nikki. It's not like you speak Spanish. And we're both native-born Americans. I won't try to pretend to speak Swedish or Polish or wherever you're from if you won't distance me by pretending I'm from some foreign country." "But--but--You can't quit. You're Hispanic--not that it's EVER mattered to us, we've always felt you were as welcome to scrub our floors and cook our food as any normal person--but if you don't work for us, who else will employ you?" she protests. "Well, Nikki, I'd like to say I've saved up enough over the years that I don't have to work any more, but you never paid me enough for that to be a possibility. Fortunately, I've won the lottery--so it doesn't matter." "You won the lottery? Just now? Why didn't you tell someone?" she asks. "I thought about it, but I was afraid I'd miss my chance to do what I've always wanted to--to say no to one of your last minute dinner parties." "Miguel!" she says indignantly. But the doorbell rings, interrupting her huffing and puffing. "I'll get it, Miguel," she says instinctively. "Damn straight," he mutters under his breath as she goes to the door.

Jack Abbott enters the front door of the ranch. "Hello, Nikki. I saw the limo outside--company? Oh, hello, Miguel." "Hello, Mr. Abbott." Nikki drops her jaw at Miguel. "You called him Mr. Abbott." "It's a sign of respect," Miguel explains. "Don't get your daisies in a bunch, Nikki. Mr. Abbott is a man of great dignity who has always treated me with respect. I was returning his kindness." "What's going on?" Jack asks, his curiosity piqued. "Miguel has quit," Nikki announces. "Well, it's a day for lost jobs," Jack says. "You quit, too?" Nikki asks. "No, the Black Knight fired me." "Well, Miguel here won the lottery. Can you imagine that?" Jack shakes his head in amazement. "Wow. Congratulations! How much, if I may ask?" "37," Miguel replies. "37 dollars?" Jack asks. Miguel laughs, "37 million, Jack." "Oh, of course. Well, it's a start. Welcome to the big time!"

After a long pause (enough for a commercial break), Miguel says to Jack, "Perhaps you would come work for me at Rodriguez Enterprises. With your experience--you could be in line to one day become my right hand man." The idea catches Jack offguard. "I'll--uh,--have to give it some thought." Miguel nods, then adds, "Oh, but Jack--I heard about the little fiasco over at Newman Enterprises." "Word spreads fast," Jack replies, obviously a bit embarrassed. Miguel nods understandingly. "Well, I daresay Mr. Newman can afford the loss. And on the bright side, I was able to outfit my entire family in black leather jackets for under $25." Miguel hands Jack a small white card. "What's this?" Jack asks. Miguel smiles. "It's my business card, Jack. Give my secretary a call--I'm sure she can find a place in my schedule to talk about options for you." The camera follows Miguel out of this house to the limo. A chauffer comes around to let him in and they drive off.

That's all for this episode. Hope you learned something. Don't miss Episode 28!
If you missed any older episodes, see the index.

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