Diane Jenkins News Archives - 2004
See also: Jenkins 2003

Local Jabot Architect Jenkins Flip-Flops to Newman Side

It was September 23, 2003. Without so much as consulting the Board of Directors or its founder, Jabot Cosmetics CEO Jack Abbott finalized a business deal with architect Diane Jenkins in which Jenkins would loan the firm an unspecified amount of money in an effort to bail Jabot out of deep financial trouble and breath new life into its failed toxic chemical, Tuvia.

While no specific dollar amount was revealed, Jenkins called every dime of her investment money well spent so long as it meant "sticking it" to the man she was married to briefly and whose sperm she thought she stole and impregnated herself, Victor Newman.

In her new position at Jabot Jenkins was to spend an unlimited amount of money on office renovations including the swapping out of all office building windows. At the time Jenkins said that working for Jabot would not interfere with her duties at the unidentified architectural firm where she allegedly works. Jenkins' first chore at her new job was to rub the deal in the face of her arch enemy and Newman employee, Phyllis Abbott.

On September 1, 2004 it was announced that with no prior authorization former Jabot employee Dru Winters - now working at Newman Enterprises - has hired Jenkins to remodel the office she shares with Mrs. Abbott!

So what's wrong with this picture? It's called credibility.

Hot Women of Desire
May 4, 2004

by Brent Kellogg

Let's see if we've got this right. Diane Jenkins, sometimes remodeling expert employed by Jabot Cosmetics, isn't satisfied that she tricked Phyllis Abbott's husband into sleeping with her so that Jack Abbott could determine whether the leg brace she wore at the time was a "cast" and not a brace and that this information would somehow become the straw that would break Jenkins' legal theory that she didn't set the Abbott poolhouse fire?

Would that be the story in a nutshell?

Was that Jenkins got away with the crime and later willingly turned over her son to the Abbott's and later went to work for Abbott the reason she still holds a grudge against Mrs. Abbott? Does this make sense? In Genoa City it does.

It explains why Jenkins, who doesn't know much about Jabot employee Dru Winters except for hearing office gossip that she's an evil, conniving bitch, made a deal with Winters this week to attack the person at the top of her most hated list.

The list consists of anyone who has at any time and in any way opposed Winters' penis-lickin' agenda and it just so happens that Mrs. Abbott is number one on the list this week. Jenkins' job is to hit Abbott where it will hurt the most. Her vagina.

Too harsh you say? Too graphic? Not in a city where sex runs rampant second only these days to violence.

"I want to send Ms. Royal Nastiness a message she won't forget," Winter oozed, as Jenkins twitched in wonderment. Was Winters serious? "Like a heart attack." Was Winters joking? "Mother doesn't joke about something like this."

The plan? Jenkins is to get Jabot lab rat, and Abbott's current sex toy, Damon Porter into her bed and have sex with him.

"[That] will wipe the smirk off Phyllis' face [and] I know you'd enjoy that too," Winters hacked and presumed that because Porter, like she, is devoid of morals and ethics and integrity, he'd willingly crawl into bed with a creepy, used-up skag like Jenkins.

And you might think, glancing down the list, that it's just comical and sad how Winters' sees no self-mockery in this, no hint that in burning another bridge she might just be revealing how warped her cause actually is. You might think.

You would be very wrong.

Winters Rule #1: Abandon all sense of irony and perspective, ye who cock 'n' load. Non-existent jobs are at stake don't you know. Gotta climb that ladder to success no matter how many you have to step on along the way.

This is what makes Winters who she is. That sense of being intensely persecuted by no one of any threat to her career if only she had a career or an education or skills to hang onto a job she does not perform. That bitter resentment at all the perceived bias aimed at her, a feeling that no one understands her and that Abbott is out to get her because some slimy orchid project of which Abbott had no control or influence or say was terminated and that Abbott will convince Porter to go over to the dark side.

If Winters didn't consider herself to be a "happy newlywed" she'd screw Porter in a heartbeat. But, sadly, Jenkins will have to perform that task because there's no time to wait around like, maybe two weeks until Winters' marriage falls apart.

And, furthermore, goes the Winters thinking, if Jenkins can't see the benefits of sleeping with Porter, why, some masked Iraqi gangbanger will almost certainly break in to her hotel room and buzz-cut her hair and make her listen to J.T. Hellstrom's hit-single over and over. Girl's gotta be prepared, right? High five.

This is why Jenkins eagerly agreed to do Winters' dirty work. Her overwhelming sense of twisted empathy got the best of her. That acidic knot in her gut at all the ignorance Winters wallows in coupled with Genoa City's very brand of fear mongering and loathing made her do it.

Hate and revenge. Alive and well here in the land of obvious and tragicomic analogy, where you simply cannot help but transfer Winters' little mind-set - this violent attitude of "just line 'em up and screw 'em and pretend you're actually a hot woman of desire when all you are is rather heartless and inhumane and small.

Hey Sailor, Need a Fix?
April 26, 2004

She was joking - right? Diane Jenkins was making a funny when she went to Damon Porter's opium den this week to ask if he'd like to remodel the lab at Jabot Cosmetics. Does she really think, does he think, that anyone other than management would make a costly decision to remodel something that doesn't need remodeling? After all the money Ashley Carlton spent to add on a playpen for her baby?

"I know you don't want any expensive renovation," Jenkins told Porter, like he gets to choose. As if Mrs. Carlton would approve or not be consulted at all? Does Jenkins really think anyone would want to add artificial lighting thus turning the lab into a Wal-Mart look-alike? That Jabot has money to expand the greenhouse? Are they selling flowers or creating toxic grooming products?

What in the freaking hell is wrong with these people?

Was it the least bit strange that Porter had two bottles on wine open at the same time for those late-night visitors who may have had a preference? Would you like red or white?

And how did Jenkins know that the dead orchids have become "a critical part of your work these days,"? When has Porter been at work? What is his "huge investment" Jenkins spoke of?

Without mentioning that he has no say in such matters, that he is but a lowly lab rat, Porter said that the orchid project is dead and that he's "moving on". Where exactly, Porter, like all the other nitwits in this city who constantly say they are moving on, is moving to, Porter doesn't know. It just sounds cute to say, "I'm moving on" knowing damn well he'll never get anywhere.

Sensing that the man she'd cut her right breast off for has terminated the orchid project, Jenkins snickered, that's what you get for porking the boss' wife before the divorce is legal.

But because Jenkins is so transparent, Porter could see that she was really giving his relationship with Phyllis Abbott the green light. As for her real reason for stopping by, well, it was for Jenkins to know and Porter to guess about. As if he already didn't know, Jenkins wished Porter good luck with Mrs. Abbott while at the same time warning that he's gotten himself into a real mess.

Porter must have wondered. "What mess might that be? Let's see. I've nailed the boss' wife and I still have my job. Jenkins is here asking me to approve a remodeling project. Hmmm. I don't see that I've gotten into anything at all except Phyllis' love nest. Diane was joking. Wasn't she?"

Dead bodies and uncollected garbage
February 2, 2004

Whoever owns and operates the Genoa City Hotel should be sued for not taking action to prevent its maids from leaving hotel suite doors wide open while they change the sticky sheets.

How many times have strange people managed to slip inside the GCH room of Diane Jenkins thanks to the maid? Phyllis Abbott has done it many times, once in violation of a restraining order. At a time when much emphasis is being placed on personal privacy and security it's appalling that maids at this hotel have not been told to keep the doors closed.

Clerks at other hotels and motels and apartment buildings have done the same thing. The recent case of Dru Winters sweet-talking her way into Damon Porter's pad comes to mind. Can't get into someone's abode? Just ask and ye shall be granted access. Don't know what room somebody is staying? Just ask the desk clerk.

For those who don't know, for the millions who don't care or have better things to do like pick the lint from the couch or eat a ham sandwich, the opportunity to slip into Phyllis Abbott's Genoa City Hotel room presented itself to Diane Jenkins this week so she, wanting to know perhaps just how easy it can be done, jumped at the chance.

Never mind that Jack Abbott, forever whining that his company is near bankruptcy but thinks nothing of footing the $400+ per day his wife spends on a hotel room because God knows she doesn't have a pot to pee in since quitting her minimum wage job as a webmaster, Jenkins managed to learn which room Mrs. Abbott is staying in and had no trouble gaining access to it.

There, in all their decaying splendor, Jenkins found the valuable orchid plants and helped herself to one. The mind-numbing stunt was pulled off within the span of something like ten minutes between the time Jenkins left the Abbott home and the time Mrs. Abbott left the Abbott home five minutes later.

Instead of getting in and getting out without being caught or at least hiding in the closet when Abbott returned to the suite, Jenkins choose confrontation and snickered that she had swiped a prized orchid.

Mrs. Abbott's only options seem to be:

1 - Deck the bitch and take the orchid out of Jenkins' cold unconscious hand.
2 - Do nothing.

Calling the police isn't an option. Imagine the laughter.

"What's that Mrs. Abbott? You say this woman stole an orchid? Um, what value would you place on a flower? What's that? It's rare? How do you know this? Neil Winters told you? Is this Winters fella a botanist? No? Where did this "rare" orchid come from? How did you get it? From Jabot Cosmetics? Do you work there? How did Jabot get it? From Japan? How long have you had this flower in your possession? Almost a month? How long do these things live? Did Jabot have USDA permission to take it out of the country? You don't know? Come with us Mrs. Abbott. You're under arrest."

Yeah right, whatever, you might say. Incredibly easy it is to get all sneery and rational when confronted with such unusual mystical phenomena, to roll your eyes and scratch your groin and just sort of ignore the major and irrefutable beckonings and winkings. Orchids picked from trees last forever when placed in plastic baggies and run through massive climate changes? Persons don't complain when their hotel rooms are invaded? Employees having nothing to do with the theft of orchids smuggled out of foreign countries now fear for losing their jobs because they discovered who stole the stolen goods? Marriages and the survival of struggling corporations hang in the balance?

And on and on the absurdity of it all goes like dead bodies and uncollected garbage.

What did Diane Jenkins know and when did she know it?
by Vicki Johns 
January 7 , 2003

We here at the Genoa City News are pretty much on the ball. Oh, yes, now and then, we make the occasional error; Toronto, Canada, Toronto, California, and with all of the Phillip Chancellors in the world, every now and then something insignificant like their respective roman numerals will get confused. But those errors aren't common and when they are made, we are usually chastised so mercilessly that they are immediately corrected.

So, it was with looks of "Huh?" that we stared at each other in the newsroom upon learning that heinous and heathen Diane Jenkins was privy to the sacred secret of the Jabot orchid. Frantically, we wondered if overindulgence in holiday eggnog or Champaign at the GCN's annual Christmas and New Year's bashes was cause for a grievous oversight on our part. True professionals, we reviewed past Newsbrief transcripts and came to the conclusion yet again, that no, we hadn't been derelict of duty, coked out of our brains (this time), or so busy whoring around Damon Porter or Sharon Newman that we just plum missed it.

The fact that Diane obviously knows a whole lot more about the importance of the orchid to Jabot Cosmetics than she does how to cover up an attempted murder set-up came to light as Diane and Kyle made a rare visit to the home of Jack Abbott. And it was high time Jack set eyes on his boy, since he had spent the precious "memories are made of such stuff" Christmas not with the lad, but at the wedding of a company spokesmodel 4,500 miles away and followed it up by spending New Years' boinking his estranged wife. Of course, it was nothing more than a courtesy visit for Kyle as Diane was on her way to taking the toddler off to participate in a dangerous sport involving metal blades and hard ice where the cracking open of heads is only but one of the potential results.

Since, as one never engages in mundane, ordinary practices in Genoa City such as use the john, ask for a cup ‘o joe, or pop a breath mint, Diane immediately zeroed in on the presence of a small and easy-to-miss orchid in the 8,500 square foot Abbott spread, which she immediately crowned "unique" having never seen it before. Well, now we know what Diane's been doing in the weeks since her last appearance: taking botany classes. Since there are approximately 325,000 known flower species in the world, her six week class would surely qualify her as an expert on what's "unique" and what is "common."

At which point Jack, knowing Diane to be the lying, manipulative, marriage-wrecking pyro-maniac bitch that she is, doesn't simply say, "Yes, Wal-Mart's having a big sale on indoor house plants, if you run down quickly, you might still get a hold of one!" No, Jack says, "Hey, know what? This little poesy's the holy grail, baby! And I gotta haul it and my ass down to Jabot so I can save the company I've single-handedly put in peril and debt up to my tiny, worthless balls!"

Obviously, Jack and Diane have been having more than concerned parental discussions about Kyle's skating lessons or potty habits in the last few weeks as Diane revealed that she knew the importance of the botanical specimen, and a whole lot of other things, probably up to and including the style of Fruit of the Looms that John Paul II wears. Unless, of course, Japanese-tea Master-of-Ceremonies Damon Porter's overindulgence in the by-product of another little flower, the poppy, caused a case of dangerously loose lips with the woman who escorted him to the Arts Council Gala. Maybe that's why Damon's been so uninterested in Vanessa Lerner – he's been gettin' enough of that skinny little ole white woman on the side.

Could be. After all, we don't exactly know what Diane's been doing these past weeks, do we? Outside of those botanical classes, of course.