Before Victoria Newman moved off the Newman Ponderosa she had the very tacky
tackroom remodeled into a virtual feminine napkin. Gone was the smell of
horse manure and the stench in the air of her father's sweat who routinely
used the room to swat away at the punching bag hanging from the roof. Then,
just before Christmas, Victoria was gone too.
On Christmas Eve Victor Newman didn't notice that his daughter hadn't
gathered with other family members. Asked why, Nikki Newman said, "Things
have been so chaotic around here I forgot to tell him. Christmas Eve was
full of tension. We're not even a family anymore."
When the great man found out that Victoria was gone he vowed to launch a
search for her but never did.
For nearly a year the tackyroom has been vacant and now, as if things down
on the farm just aren't right unless there's something tacky going on in the
tackroom, the Genoa City News has learned that Mr. Newman will soon get a
whiff of the dire straight one of his employees is in and will offer Phyllis
Abbott and her son, the tackyroom as their new home.
Commotion Reported At Ponderosa
August 30, 2004
by Brent Kellogg
Acme Security
guards at the Newman Ponderosa confirm that another strange incident took
place there Monday involving new "guests" 16-year-old Daniel Romalotti, his
aging mother, Phyllis Abbott and a stranger guards say they've never seen
before.
"We were sitting in the guard shack snacking on Krispy Kremes and reading
Spider-Man comics when this squirmy looking kid pulled up and said he wanted
to see the Romalotti boy," a security guard who identified himself only as
"Moe" told the Genoa City News.
Right away this reporter asked the guard if he knew anything about a hit put
out on Jabot Cosmetics executive Jill Abbott.
"No, no! That's a different Moe. You want to hear the story, or not?" Moe
snorted.
"So we tell the kid that there's been a lot of trouble here lately with
strangers prowling around and we'll have to call down to the tackyroom. You
know, the shed they fixed up and pass off as a one-bedroom bungalow where
the Howards lived for a spell. I wonder how much the rent is? Place stinks
of horse manure, though. I don't know how anyone can live there," Moe went
on.
"Anyway, we get Romalotti on the horn and he says, sure, send the kid down,
so we do. But later, we're thinking maybe we should stroll by just in case,
you know, there's a drug deal going down - or something. The kid did have an
earring in his ear and I noticed an attitude too. Plus, Mrs. Abbott wasn't
home so we thought it might be the puny thing to do if we had a look see
through the window."
"Don't you mean prudent?" this reporter asked.
"Ah, right. That too. Say, you making fun of me?" Moe smirked, before going
on with the story.
"Just then we hear the phone ringing inside the shack so I sent Larry here
[Moe's partner] back to get it. I hunkered down under the tackyroom window
and damn if I wasn't right. I hear the Romalotti boy, Daniel I think is his
first name, telling the guy that they're not supposed to know each other!
Right away my ears start burning. This has got to be hot stuff. I was trying
to remember if Larry got the guy's license number, but when he tells Daniel
the tackyroom is 'nice digs' I almost barfed. Never did think about the
license again. Course, it don't matter since the Newmans don't require much
information from strangers who come out here."
"Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah. Next thing Daniel tells the guy to leave;
worries what his mother will do if she comes home. So I'm thinking again,
are these kids gay? Not that it matters, mind you. I was gay myself once
until Jesus changed me back. Now, I've got 4 kids and 3 jobs. But like I was
saying, the guy says he ain't leaving until they do some business and again
I'm thinking, drug deal!"
"Then I hear the guy say he helped with that Lily chick and wanted his
money! My heart is racing now 'cause I heard Mr. Newman mumbling when he
drove by the gate earlier that the Winters girl ruined his grand opening or
something and he's on his cellphone with the hospital checking on her. Guess
she got date raped. Then I hears Daniel say he ain't paying because the girl
wasn't supposed to OD so he's canceling the deal. Now, I'm starting to laugh
and my blood pressure has gone down. Damn kids. So stupid."
"What do you mean, stupid?" this reporter asked, knowing it was a rhetorical
question.
"Jesus! You sound like the other morons living here. Always asking what do
you mean. I mean, what a twit this Romalotti kid is. He sets some chick up
and when the deal doesn't go right wants to back out? This kid has a lot to
learn about being a gangster," Moe continued.
"When this guy, I think I heard the name Alex, says he'll squeal to the
girl's parents if Daniel doesn't pay, Daniel threatens to break his legs! I
mean, have you seen this little pus-head Romalotti? Kid couldn't break wind
if his ass depended on it. Oh, sorry. You're a family paper I understand."
"It's okay. Our readers can handle the truth. They aren't prudes. Go on with
your story," this reporter told Moe.
"Then Alex breaks the news that he's connected with a gang and that his boys
take care of him. If Daniel doesn't want to end up in the hospital with the
girl he better do as he's told. Then he tells Daniel he wants him to scope
out the new recreation center, you know the one Mr. Newman built, so that
his gang can get in and out as they please. Even calls the dude who runs the
place "Taco man!" He wasn't talking about Mr. Newman, was he?" Moe asked.
"Could be the kid they call Jamal. Then again, could be Newman; his face
looks like a pizza. But go on with your story, Moe," this reporter injected.
"Anywho, Daniel is freaking so bad now I'm about to burst out laughing when
Mrs. Romalotti, ah, Abbott comes home. Good thing she didn't see me. Says
she did see a strange car, wants to know who the guy is, and starts asking a
bunch of questions. Kinda weird if you ask me, buy hey, not half as weird as
some of the stuff I've seen around here. Daniel is trying hard to get the
guy out the door but the guy says he ain't leaving until he's concluded his
business! Tells the lady not to worry; he ain't gonna badly influence her
gold spoon-fed boy. Man, if she only knew. The lady picks up on the attitude
- I told you about the attitude - tells the guy to leave or she'll call the
guards. Boy, if only she knew I was right outside the window!"
"When the lady called the guy a 'squirt' I knew what was coming next. He
calls her a 'royal bitch' and she whacks him across the face. Imagine that?
And the guy doesn't even know the woman. Says it was un-cool; that no woman
slaps him and then threatens to get her! I don't know how he managed, but
Daniel got rid of him, tells his mother that the guy is really pissed and
wondered what possessed her to get in his business. By now I'm thinking I
better split too 'cause Mrs. Abbott might call the gate to report the
incident or at least ask if we got a name or license number. But she didn't.
Good thing, because we didn't," Moe concluded.
Prior to leaving the Ponderosa this reporter asked security for permission
to scout around the infamous Newman outhouse and revisit the pond where
little Cassie Newman nearly drowned a few years ago to see if it had been
filled in with cement as Mr. Newman had promised.
"Sure, go right ahead, but once you past the gate you're out of our
jurisdiction," Moe told me.
Ambling my way along the white cobblestone path I passed up the outhouse
when it appeared the young Newman kids were playing cards downstairs and
what look like steam was coming out of a bedroom window. Making my way to
the stables I was halfway up to the pond when five men surrounded me. They
wouldn't even let me look in the direction on the pond before pushing me
into some little hut and asked a bunch of questions. Was I Cameron Kirsten?
Did I know Cameron Kirsten?
When I reached into my pocket for a newspaper clipping about Kirsten's
miraculous capture in Iowa, a guard grabbed my arm like I was a common
criminal. They insisted on scanning me with a metal-detector, even though I
told them that I'd already gone through security on the way in. One guard
started asking if I was Diego Guittierez over and over until I showed him my
ID. Shoving their hands into my pants pocket to see if I might have any
explosives they set me on my way when they were satisfied I hadn't come to
cause harm to the Newmans. The one guard, did, however, let his fingers
linger just a little too long in my pocket and wouldn't pull it out until I
assured him that "thing" wasn't that kind of a gun.
That wasn't the last of it. Since the guards wouldn't let me see the pond I
went up to the main house hoping to see if the front door has a lock on it.
The guard there was even more abusive. Said he didn't want to reveal
security precautions they take so I told him I just wanted to get a closer
look at the place where Joshua Landers was killed, but he wouldn't let me so
much as peek through the window. He was all, "Sir, step back" and when I
tried to take a picture through the window grunted, "No flash photography."
Complaining that the place was so dark I explained the only way to get a
decent picture was with a flash, but the guard said flashes fade the
valuable plates Mrs. Newman has hanging on the wall and has been known to
cause the Baby Grand Piano to go off key.
Satisfied that the Ponderosa is now, suddenly, swarming with security,
albeit stooge-like, I returned to the main gate, said good day to Moe and
Larry and left.
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