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Moral
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Moral
Date: Sat, 12 Jul 1997 01:35:16 GMT
From: pitman@anotherwayout.com (Kent M Pitman)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.tv.soaps.cbs
Subject: Y&R: AWO#52: "Just Desserts"
Message-ID: <sfw4ta11297.fsf@world.std.com>
INSIDE... * The Romalotti family visits one of Miguel's holiday spectaculars.
* Will Phyllis get what's coming to her
as the vile vial test approaches?
* Will Lady Bug get tricked by one of her own bad habits?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ANOTHER WAY OUT, Episode 52, 12-Jul-97 by Kent Pitman (kmp@harlequin.com)
"Just Desserts"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phyllis, Danny, Joanie, and Little Daniel pull up in front of the Newman Ranch
on the Fourth of July. "Wow," says Joanie as she gets out of the car. "This
is sure a nice place." "It sure is," says Phyllis. Then she turns to Little
Daniel and says, "It sure was nice of your grandma Katherine to get us an
invitation, wasn't it Daniel?" Daniel nods. "It sure was. Will I get to
ride a pony?" Danny laughs. "We'll see." Then he says to Phyllis, "It's not
just a favor to us. It's good for Katherine to have us here. When Nikki
invited her, I think she was afraid she'd show up and find a bunch of college
kids and no one she could relate to. So seeing us there will make her feel a
little more like it's a family event." Miguel opens the door and ushers them
in. Joanie looks very excited. "Wow, this is quite a house." Phyllis looks
to Joanie like she's an intrusion and says, "Uh, Joanie, why don't you go with
Miguel and see if you can stay out of the way--maybe you can help with the
serving or something, ok?" "Ok," she pouts, obviously disappointed. "Come
this way," Miguel says with a wink. "I'll show you the servants' area."
Joanie follows, looking longingly back at Paradise Lost as the Romalottis
continue through Nikki's living room and out the back to the pool party.
A little while later, in another part of Nikki's house (that we haven't seen
since Episode 22), Joanie is just finishing with the grand tour of the
servants' area. "So you see, in terms of overall floorspace, it's actually
six times the size of the main household," Miguel finishes. "And no one's
ever noticed?" "Apparently not," says Miguel. "I annexed the rooms one at a
time over a long period of time. They hardly ever used them." "So you don't
mind being a permanent live-in servant?" Joanie asks. "Not in the least,"
Miguel says. "But only because of my situation. It works to my advantage. I
have a large living area for me and my family. An unlimited budget for meals.
Plenty of time to myself. And access to the entire ranch." Joanie nods,
sadly. "My situation isn't quite as good, I'm afraid. The Romalotti
household doesn't have a lot of rooms so they'd probably noticed if I tried to
make my own space. The main benefit is that I get to spend all that time with
my favorite rock star and his darling little baby." "Well, being part of a
family can be very important. Just don't let the mother walk all over with
you. As ethnics on a long-running television serial drama, we have a special
responsibility to stand up to attempts to portray us as second-class
citizens."
"Now, if you'll excuse me," Miguel says, "I must help my wife separate the
cuts of meat by quality." "Oh, so that the Newmans get the good cuts?" Joanie
inquires. Miguel laughs, "I used to do that. I would never want to cheat my
employer out of what they are paying for. However, I've noticed that they
never eat 90% of the meat that I set out, and it seems such a waste. So I put
out a few good cuts and then mostly some cheap stuff underneath. It makes me
feel less bad about all the spoilage." "You know," says Joanie, "you're a
real inspiration, Miguel." "How so?" "Well, you've convinced me I need to do
a better job of taking hold of my life--of going after what's important to
me!" Joanie says with sudden intensity. "Well, that's certainly my recipe
for success," Miguel says. "I'm happy I was able to share it with you." He
smiles his familiar smile of confident humility.
Later that night, Joanie enters from the bedroom to find Phyllis packing her
purse. "Little Daniel's put to sleep--what are you doing there, Mrs.
Romalotti?" she asks, peering curiously at the objects on the table. "Just
planning the events of the day for tomorrow--it's going to be a VERY busy day.
Can you help me here so I can get this done before Danny comes home? Read off
that checklist, ok?" Joanie picks up the paper from the table. "Syringe?"
"Check." "What's that for?" "It's for the blood I'm going to draw from
Brian." "Brian?" "Danny's real father." "He lives here in town?" "He'll be
visiting." "Why?" "So I can draw the blood... but he doesn't know that.
What's next on the list?" "Sleeping pills?" "Check. What's that--" "Joanie,
it's not going to go very fast if you ask me about each item." "Ok. I guess
it's obvious what that's for anyway if Brian doesn't know he'll be giving
blood." "Bingo, Joanie. What's next?" Joanie reads: "Spoon?" "Check." "White
gloves?" "Check." "How are you going to get him--oh, never mind, I see.
Bottle of wine?" "Check." "You're not going to have him over here are you?"
"No, Joanie, I'm not that stupid. He's going to call me with the
information." "Oh." she says, then she goes back to the list. "Change of
clothes? Mrs. Romalotti, you're not going to..." Phyllis looks shocked.
"Joanie! I certainly hope not. But it has to look like I might." Phyllis
pushes the last of the items into the bag, just as Danny enters. "All set,"
Joanie says. "What's all set?" Danny says. "Oh, nothing," says Phyllis.
"Joanie and I were just going over plans for tomorrow; I have to be out for
part of the day, and then you have that appointment at the lab with Little
Daniel." "Yeah," says Danny, "I'm really looking forward to getting that put
behind us once and for all..."
Phyllis is in a taxi. Her hair is tied up and covered by a floppy hat. A
veil obscures her face, and tight black leather gloves over her hands. The
rest of her outfit is a non-descript long raincoat. She inspects her large
purse to make sure she has all the `tools' she needs. "Syringe for the blood,
wine, sleeping pills for Dr. Tim, ..." "You talking to me lady?" "No, I was
not!" Phyllis says indignantly. "OK, well, you's just gotta know that I can't
hear well up here so if you see the place you wanna stop, just shout." She
sees examines a scrap of paper that says "Fleabag Motel, Room 314" on it.
Ahead on the left, she sees the motel coming up and yells, "Wait--stop!!"
"Here?" the taxi driver yells back, as if confirmation were needed. "Yes,
here!!" Phyllis yells. The taxi screeches to a slow crawl and pulls into the
parking lot of the Roach Coach Motel, next door to the Fleabag. The taxi
driver looks out at the motel and shakes his head. "Don't look like the best
o' choices, lady." "Well, I'm not paying you for your opinion on that, am I?"
she says a bit angrily, handing him some money. She hands him an extra $20
and says, "In fact, the only thing I'm paying you for is your discretion. You
NEVER saw me, ok?" He shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say."
Back at the Romalotti household, Joanie pulls out a sleeping pill which she
has presumably borrowed from Phyllis. She drugs a glass of ginger ale for
Danny and brings it to him in the living room, where he's working on some
sheet music. "Here, Mr. Romalotti, I brought you a nice cool drink."
"Thanks, Joanie!" he says with his typical enthusiasm. A few minutes pass and
we notice him getting increasingly tired. "You know, Joanie," he yells. "I
think I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up in time to go to the clinic, ok?"
"Absolutely, Mr. Romalotti. Sweet dreams," she replies. The camera cuts back
to Joanie in the other room, who sits and quickly begins to work at the family
computer, which resides in the Romalotti bedroom. She says to no one, "That
should give me time to attend to a few details..." It isn't long before she
has a stiff piece of white cardboard coming out of the printer. She admires
her work (which we can't see) and then starts to cut it with some scissors.
Phyllis walks into the motel lobby and out the back side of the building,
waiting long enough for her taxi to pull away. From there she walks next door
to the Fleabag Motel and takes one more look at the slip of paper. "Fleabag?
Who names these things anyway? Room 314, 314, 314," she says, trying to
memorize it. Then she puts the piece of paper into her mouth and starts to
chew. A moment later she swallows, muttering, "Neat, clean, no evidence."
She walks toward an elevator and before we know it she's knocking on room 314.
When Brian opens the door, he starts to say "Phyllis!" but she puts a hand
over his mouth to shh him and looks both ways to make sure no one has heard.
Then she enters quickly and sets her purse to one side, near the bathroom,
covering it with her hat. Finally, she lets out a deep sigh and says "Oh,
Brian, it is SOOOooo good to see you." "I wish I knew what I was doing here,
Phyllis. I can't believe you talked me into this..." he says nervously.
"Brian, could you wait just one little minute while I fix myself up a little
and then maybe we could discuss this on a more intimate level?" She grabs her
bag and heads into the bathroom. [Author's Note: Oh, how I miss Michelle
Stafford for scenes like this, but let's just blunder ahead, shall we?]
In the living room of the Romalotti household, Joanie emerges carrying some
scrap cardboard that she tosses onto the fire. She also has a syringe and a
vial, similar to the ones Phyllis was using. She checks Danny to be sure he
is asleep and then rolls him over undoes his belt. Pulling down his pants to
expose his butt slightly, she extracts some blood and fills the vial. Then
she rolls Danny back over, retightens his belt, ... and kisses him on the
forehead lightly. Finally, after stowing the syringe safely out of sight, and
putting vial of blood into her purse, Joanie shakes Danny lightly. "Mr.
Romalotti. Wake up. It's almost time..."
Inside the bathroom, Phyllis drops the raincoat to reveal she wears only a
teddy beneath. She removes her gloves carefully, without touching anything,
and replaces them with some lacy white gloves. She stands on a bathmat to
remove her shoes, but leaves some socks. She looks down at them, scrunching
her nose. "Hmmm. Doesn't really go with the outfit, but can't be leaving
footprints, can we?" She pulls two wine glasses from her purse, and removes
the price tags--apparently recently purchased. She starts to dispose of the
tags in the trash but thinks better of it, crumpling them and putting them
back in her purse. Then she wipes the outside of the wine bottle and the
glasses for any lingering prints and fills the two glasses, one with wine and
one with half water, half wine. "No sense in wasting the alcohol on me," she
says. "I need a clear head." Finally, she dumps the pills (about 10 of them)
onto the counter and breaks one open, pouring its contents into the glass.
"What if it's not enough?" she ponders aloud. She pours in another, then a
third. "There." She stirs the mix with a plastic spoon taken from her
carefully prepared purse.
The door opens and Phyllis enters, glasses in hand. Brian eyes her up and
down and says with a smile, "I'm starting to remember why you let me talk me
into this." "Oh, Brian, you always know the nicest things to say. Here,
join me in a toast, will you?" She hands him the spiked glass. "To us," he
says. She just nods, happy to have a reason to drink up. She drinks her
whole glass. He didn't finish his, but she urges him on. "Drink up, love.
There's more if you want it." She shrugs and drinks. They set the glasses
aside and he walks toward her, arms extended for a hug and kiss, but he falls
back on the bed instead. "Brian?" she says, not sure if he's really passed
out yet. But he is, and it's obvious. "Wow, I'll have to remember to tell
Tim his pills really worked!" She promptly returns to the bathroom and draws
a vial of blood.
Just then, there's a knock at the door. Phyllis asks worriedly, "Who is it?"
No answer. She peeks out and sees Joanie. Her hair is up and she is
disguised similarly to Phyllis. "Oh my God, Joanie! Get in out of the hall
before someone sees you. Did you come in through the front door?" "No, I was
careful. I came in the back from the place next door." "Well, what ARE you
doing here? Do you know that if you'd come in just a little earlier, you'd
have spoiled everything?" "I know, Mrs. Romalotti. I'm not stupid. But
these doors aren't much for stopping sound--I've been listening. I didn't
knock until you started talking aloud about how well the pills worked..."
"And how did you even find this place? I didn't write it anywhere." "Well,
you wrote it on the tablet, so I used a pencil over the impression you left on
the notepad--it's a trick they use in old detective movies. I was surprised,
but it really works!" "You have to destroy it, Joanie. There can't be any
record." "Relax, Mrs. Romalotti, I burned it immediately." "So why ARE you
here??" "I had to tell you--Danny's already on his way. I couldn't stop
him." "Good grief, Joanie, you could have called...he's probably there by
now!" "You may not have noticed, Mrs. Romalotti, but this kind of hotel
doesn't have a phone in the room. You have to go to the hall to use the pay
phone. And I couldn't call. So I came as quickly as I could... I let the air
out of his tires, though, before I left. So he'll be slowed down. Until he
calls AAA or a taxi. Anyway, it might have bought you enough time!" "But I
still have to clean up this room--" "It's ok, I'll take care of it." Joanie
wanders around and sees the blood on the table. She palms it, replacing it
with the vial she's brought of Danny's blood, then hands it to her. "Here,"
she says, "take this and go. I'll take care of things here." "Are you sure?"
"Have I ever let you down?" Joanie says. "Thank you, Joanie! Thank you!"
She rushes out. And as soon as she is gone, Joanie begins moving around the
room to clean up. But when she comes to the glasses, she stops and begins to
fill them both. The scene fades as she is emptying more sleeping pills into
one of them.
At Legal Aid, the Bug answers the phone. "Legal Aid. Christine Williams." A
woman's voice at the other end says, "It's a very complex problem, and I don't
have any money.. It's about my husband, Brian--he's--I can't talk to you
about it by phone. Could you perhaps come here?" The woman sobs. "Ok, ok,
calm down. I'll come there. Just give me the address," Cricket says.
She nods and says "uh,huh" as she writes something on a pad, then says,
"I'll be right there," and hangs up.
At the clinic, Danny enters with his son and is directed to a waiting room
down the hall. Shortly after, Phyllis enters and looks around quietly.
Seeing some vials on a counter, she makes some visual notes about how they're
labeled and smiles. "Good thing the labeling is so standard," she says,
pulling out the vial in her purse to verify that its label has been correctly
prepared. She wanders down the hall to the waiting room where she finds Danny
and Little Daniel. "Danny! Daniel! You're here! I'm so glad I caught up to
you." Danny is surprised to see her. "We waited as long as we could, and
then we had to take off." "Oh, that's ok, Danny. I understand. I'm just
glad I could be here to hold little Daniel's hand." She hugs them both.
Conveniently just then, a nurse enters and asks the men to roll up their
sleeves. She draws blood from each of them, and sets the vials on the table.
"Someone will be by to pick these up in a minute," she says. She moves on to
the next pair of arms. Sure enough, a man with a plastic basket comes along
moments after collecting them. Phyllis starts to pick up the containers and
Little Daniel says, "Can I do that, Mommy?" "Sure, sweetie, here," she says,
palming Danny's container and replacing it with Brian's. She gives two vials
to Little Daniel, who proudly hands them to the man with the basket. "When
will the results be available?" "We pride ourselves in the swiftness of our
lab results--we'll know in a few hours. Would you like to stop by then, or
maybe tomorrow?" "The sooner the better," Danny says. "But can you just have
them call me?" "No, we prefer to always do this in person, with a counsellor
present. 7pm tonight?" Danny nods. "Ok, 7pm."
Cricket enters the front door of the Fleabag Motel and approaches the desk.
"Hi, I'm Christine Williams." The man behind the desk eyes her up and down,
taking special note of her miniskirt. "Hi, doll, what can I do for you?"
"I'm a lawyer, and I'm supposed to meet a client here." "Lawyer? Sure you
are. Hey, those are some pretty high class duds you got there. Name?" "I
just said--Christine Williams." "I mean of the guy you're here to--uh,--
advise." "I don't know the name--she said it was room 314." "She, huh?
Yeah, well, whatever trips your trick, I guess. Elevator's right around the
corner, but it's busted--I'd take those stairs," he says, pointing to an
emergency exit. "Thanks." She walks away and he eyes the no-holds-barred
view of her legs as she does. As she disappears out of sight, he whistles and
says, "A lawyer, huh? Ha! Like any judge'd let a lawyer into a courtroom
dressed like that! But then, I don't suppose her `client' will be spending
his time doin' much objectin'..." Then he goes back to reading the World
Inquisitor.
Cricket knocks at the door of 314, but there's no answer. She stands waiting
for a while, wonering what to do. Finally, she opens the door and goes in.
Inside, she sees a man collapsed on the bed. He appears undressed, but has
sheets pulled over some parts of him. "Hello?" she asks. The man does not
stir. On the table next to him are two glasses of wine--one is full, one is
empty. She sits on the bed next to him and checks his neck for a pulse.
There is none, and she draws back in horror. She looks suddenly to the
bedside.. Under the full wine glass is a wad of money and a business card. To
the side is one lone, unused sleeping pill. She starts to lift the glass to
see what it might say, but at that moment the door is broken down and police
come storming in.
"Officer, this man is dead," Cricket says, putting the glass back on the
table. "We can see that," says the policeman. "I wouldn't say anything more
if I were you. We got a report of suspicious activity up here--are you
Christine Williams?" he asks. "Yes, I'm she. Why?" "Just what it says here
on the business card. 555-5284?" "That's my office, yes." "Well, well...
looks like you were having quite a party here." "Party?" "Yeah, a
party--wine, money, ..." "I don't know about any party--I'm a lawyer--I just
came here to give some advice." "Advice. Right. So this is your office..."
"No, it's not my office. I go where I'm called." "I'll bet you do. And
that's your regular business attire?" "It is," she replies indignantly. "You
must run quite an interesting business. Hmm. Do folks really call you
Ladybug?" "How did you know about that?" "It's right here on your business
card."
"That's not my card," Christine protests. "But it's got your name--your
names--on it. People don't usually put other people's names on their cards,
do they? `For a good time, call 555-5284 and ask for ``Ladybug''. For
really hot action, ask me to bring along my husband.' That's your name,
right?" "It's not my name." "Then why did you ask me how I found out about
it?" "It's just something people call me... but not because of that card."
"Oh, so the name on the card isn't just made up." "My name is Christine
Williams." "Yeah, that's here, too. It would really bug me to have people
calling me different names like that, but I guess in your business--" "I want
to speak to a lawyer." "OH, so you want to speak to a lawyer! I thought you
said you WERE a lawyer..." "I was. I mean I am. I mean--" "And your
husband, what about him?" "He's a private investigator." "Oh, a private d--"
"Yeah, yeah, spare me the crude jokes, please." "But you do work together."
"Sometimes." "Uh, huh. Look, Ms. Williams, Ladybug, whatever your name is,
we'll get you your lawyer down at the station. For now, though, you're under
arrest for the murder of this man." "His name is Brian. And I DIDN'T murder
him--I never even met him. I just got here." "Uh, huh. Never met him. Came
in and found him dead. Knows his name. My bet is your prints are all over
here, too." "Of course they are--but only because I just touched everything."
"Exactly. When do you want me to think this murder occurred? The body's
still warm. Look, if I were you, I really wouldn't say any more until
somebody reads you your rights... O' course, if you really were a lawyer,
you'd know that already." "I AM a lawyer--and I was just trying to be
helpful." "Oh, you have been--very helpful."
It's later and Danny is at home with Joanie, Phyllis, and Little Daniel.
"Time to go back and pick up the results." "Oh, you go ahead," Phyllis says.
"You don't want to be there? You were so insistent about being there this
afternoon." "That was different, Danny," Phyllis lies. "I just wanted to be
there for Little Daniel in case he was worried. You're a big boy--I'm sure
you can handle this part of it." "Ok, I shouldn't be long," he says as he
heads out.
A while later, the door opens and Danny walks back in. He looks around to be
sure that Little Daniel has been put to bed. "I would never have believed it
if I didn't see it for myself." "See," says Phyllis, "I told you it would
work out ok." "Ok? OK? Phyllis, you've lied to me. Cricket was right all
along. I'm not Little Daniel's father!" "Danny? No. That can't be." She
thinks for a moment and concludes that maybe Brian wasn't the father after
all; in a last ditch effort, she fesses up. "Danny--I wasn't sure if it was
you who was the father, so I switched the vials." "Oh, don't think I didn't
suspect that--that's why it took so long tonight--we reran the sample tonight
and it came out just the same. I'm not Daniel's father." Phyllis is confused
but has nothing more to say. Her life is crumbling before her eyes. "Sit
down and relax, honey. It doesn't change anything. I love you and you still
love--" "Get out," Danny says. "What?" "You heard me. Get out. I don't
want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. I have to have time to think."
Phyllis starts to cry and rushes out. Suddenly, the phone rings and Danny
picks it up. A voice at the other end says: "It's me... Cricket... Danny,
I've been arrested for murder!" "You just can't stop, can you?" Danny says,
exploding. "You ALWAYS have to be meddling in peoples' lives, don't you? And
now it's gotten out of hand--not only do you want to control their lives but
you want to control their deaths as well! Well, I have no more patience with
it, Cricket. None at all. Good bye!"
Danny slams down the phone and then sits dejected on the couch. Joanie comes
up behind him and starts rubbing his shoulders. "I'm sorry it's been such a
rough day for you, Mr. Romalotti. You just sit there and relax and I'm going
to make you forget all about it." Danny takes her hand and pulls it tightly
to his cheek. "You really are a good friend, Joanie. Your husband is very
lucky to have you." "Thanks, Mr. Romalotti, but he doesn't have me any more.
I divorced him months ago--that's why I've been living here full-time." "Oh,"
says Danny. "Well, then *I'm* very lucky to have you." She smiles. "Aww,
thanks, Mr. Romalotti." "Danny," he corrects you. "Ok... Danny. I guess
we're just lucky at times like these to have each other," she says
philosophically as she slides down onto the couch and curls up with him.
"Remind me to thank Miguel," she says. "For what?" "Oh, just something I
took away from the party yesterday." "Oh, right--he sure has the best
recipes, doesn't he?" "For all sorts of things," she says, nodding.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright 1997 Kent M. Pitman. All Rights Reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Another Way Out" takes plotline state at time of publication and shows that
there are interesting places right around the corner. The goal, besides
having some fun with good-natured parody, is to challenge the notion that we
must be mired in certain tired plotlines for months just to have a good time.
There is always another way out...
Archives of this and older episodes of "Another Way Out"
as well as the more serious "morals" that underly them,
can be found at: http://world.std.com/~pitman/awo/index.html
Don't forget to try the "character index" and "ratings index"!