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Tidy Bowl Lady Pushes Luck At Abbott Hotel Affair
September 14, 2004

by Brent Kellogg

Strange and bizarre were but two words to describe what happened this week at the Abbott Hotel. So called because it has become a haven for squatters, ex-wives and grown men who prefer living their adult lives under Pa's roof, the Hotel was the scene Tuesday of a dinner party thrown by owner John 'Yawn' Abbott's latest house guest and waiting for the Viagra to kick in gold digger, Gloria Fisher.

Instructing the Abbott slave as to where just everything should go Fisher did nothing to help foreign-looking Mrs. Martinez prepare what appeared to be a feast fit for a knight of the roundtable.

In attendance at what was billed as an Abbott family gathering were Mr. Abbott's "beauty" the sperm-stealing Ashley Carlton, Carlton's rapidly aged six-year-old daughter, Abby, and former maid turned squatter, PainMe Johnson.

On the menu were such delicacies as squash, zucchini, potatoes, apple pie with ice cream and lots of red meat.

Floating through the air with the greatest of ease Fisher did manage to light the candles and pleased that part three of her ruse to trap old man Abbott was coming along nicely, quipped, "It's so rare for families to sit down like this at a table."

Glancing up from his drooling cup the old geezer countered Fisher. "We eat most of our meals together," Abbott said, which of course, was not really a true statement since most of the family had gone its separate ways following the departure of Diane Jenkins and Phyllis Abbott.

Abbott's statement was particularly annoying in that recently accepted into the Abbott clan by his son Jack, Brad Carlton was not there, nor Jack Abbott.

"That's probably why you get along so well," Fisher noted totally unaware that the Abbott's are perhaps one of the most bickering families on the planet.

Safe and secure now that her husband has allowed her daughter's biological father to have visits with Victor Newman, Mrs. Carlton - all but moved into the Abbott home again and continuing to keep the secret that the old timer is not her biological father - shushed her daughter when Abby took it upon herself to pry into Fisher's past.

"Where's your family?" the youngster started to ask as Fisher said she didn't mind the questioning and volunteered that she doesn't have much family said, "most of them are in Michigan."

Already well on her way to becoming like most dumbed down American's who can't find Iraq on a map, Abby asked, "is it [Michigan] far away?"

Sitting quietly, minding her own business as she should have, former tidy bowl lady Johnson latched onto the pry bar. Hadn't Fisher said that she has two sons living in Genoa City? Does she get to see them? Fisher was saved by the bell when the old man hinted that it really wasn't any of Johnson's business and that if anyone knows what it's like to be estranged from family all Johnson need do is look in the mirror. Why, for example, does she, a woman of color, continue living with white folks when she has family of her own she hasn't eaten dinner with for years?

Fisher shut down further talk of family when she ordered Mrs. Martinez to start serving. To say that the slave was annoyed would have been an understatement. But before Martinez could have maybe said, "Why in the hell am I doing all the work here when that old maid is sitting on her fat ass like she own the place?" Johnson reared her ugly head again to spew more nonsense.

"Tell us more about yourself," the old hag oozed, as Fisher said again there isn't much to talk about seemingly aggravated that Johnson was being such a nosey bitch.

As Fisher explained she's come to like Genoa City much better than Detroit the most contradicting witch this side of the Mississippi spat, "You seem to change your opinion quite often."

Again, Yawn came to Fisher's rescue. Her pointed spewing cut off Ashley announced her departure claiming that little Abby had to get a good night's rest in preparation for the daze ahead.

"My class is going to the zoo!" Abby blurt out, citing giraffes as her favorite caged animal because of their long necks.

The party wrapped up, Fisher was on her way to help with the dishes when the old man stopped her. Dirty work is what Mrs. Martinez gets paid to do, Yawn belched. And then, strange as it may be, the old fool told Fisher that Abby would be calling her the next day with a report on the zoo trip.

Fisher praised the tyke for being so bright, like her grandpa, and that she looked forward to receiving Abby's call. But deep down Fisher must have wondered: what in hell is wrong these people? What six-year-old calls a stranger about her zoo parade experience?

If only Fisher knew. If only she were around in May, 1995 when Malcolm Winters uttered the words, "sookie, sookie, wow." Talk about monkeys at the zoo. The event heralded the news that PainMe had swapped spit with Yawn.

Dru Winters was first to run her mouth. When she told her husband what she had seen Neil Winters said, "Great! Let's get the family over here so we can celebrate."

Wearing a baseball cap backwards, Malcolm was the only member of the clan to arrive and had no sooner uttered the infamous sookie line but what the phone rang. PainMe was calling from the police station to say she had been thrown out of the Abbott home after Jill Abbott had called the police who escorted her off the property. Furious, PainMe screamed at the cops about what a no-good Jill was to no avail.

Later, Jack Abbott later told PainMe to git because Jill had laid down the law and allowed her to return to the Abbott home to pack her bags. Tearfully, PainMe pulled a photo of Yawn out of a drawer raising suspicion as to what she was doing with a picture of the man stashed away in her underwear. As she left, PainMe put Yawn's American Express out where he could find it.

PainMe didn't tell a soul where she was bound. She went to the bus depot, purchased a ticket to anywhere and boarded with a heavy heart.

Soon everyone was in a tizzy. Where had PainMe gone? Jack even went so far as to take out an ad in the paper. Under a photo of PainMe the caption read: Mamie - Phone Home!

At the then Center 4 Disease, Dru and Olivia Winters made an impassioned, barfable television plea! Yes, hard as it may be to believe, TV reporters converged on the scene and made the event into a story for the nightly news.

Meantime, Jill was running around telling everyone PainMe "isn't herself." Worried that PainMe might return and steal baby Billy, Jill thought about hiring a bodyguard.

PainMe turned up at a flop house outside town where she was seen holding her head in a pillow and bawling her eyes out. And on the nightstand nearby? The photo of Yawn! It was then PainMe saw the report on TV. She dragged her sorry ass back to Genoa City and was told that her days as a tidy bowl lady were over.

But as we have seen, what goes around comes around. PainMe is back at the Abbott home with the man she loved and where she is now waited on hand and foot by the hired help.

House Squatter Blesses Shack-Up
August 31, 2004

by Brent Kellogg

It's been almost three years since it was first hoped that former Abbott live-in slave and geriatric sex provider, PainMe Johnson would realize that it doesn't look good for her to be squatting at the home of wealthy white folk and that she would move out of the Abbott home and either in with her relatives or, since she's rich, get a place of her own.

But it never happened and why has never been understood. Even if the housing market was so tight a filthy rich woman couldn't purchase a home of her own, Johnson could have stayed with her niece, Dr. Olivia Winters, and become an asset by watching Winter's young son, Nate Hastings who might never have dropped off the face of the earth.

It was thought that Johnson's unwillingness to leave the Abbott home was based on repressed feelings she has for the senior Abbott, John. Johnson fell in love with the geezer in 1995 following a heart attack which had left the old man in a comatose state. Unlike businessman Keith Dennison, who slipped into a coma following his heart attack, Abbott was not required to stay at the God Have Mercy Medical Center where to this day Dennison is thought to be. Instead, Abbott was allowed to go home where he vegetated in his bedroom in a coma. During that time Johnson frequently sneaked into his room when she thought no one was around to hold his hand.

At one point Abbott's wife, Jill, caught Johnson kissing her husband and fired her on the spot. Johnson was so infatuated with the old man she had to be forcibly removed from his room. Johnson told Mrs. Abbott the feelings she had for the man were mutual.

When Abbott came out of his coma he told Johnson she was only the maid. But he did admit the idea of dumping his wife and making a life for his son Billy with Johnson was appealing. Facing the reality Abbott called off the divorce for the sake of his son, however.

Not wanting any further bubbles in the pancake mix Mrs. Abbott offered Johnson a million dollars to get out of town. Johnson took the money and went on a cruise around the world with Trent Jordan, a Chancellor Industries executive whom she was expected to marry. A few years later Johnson returned alone to Genoa City and moved right back in with the Abbotts, however. She resumed her cleaning duties, ran errands and cooked meals just as if nothing had changed. Mrs. Martinez, Abbott's regular maid, was hard-pressed to find a cobweb.

When Mrs. Abbott reminded Johnson they had a deal the old maid told her to go to hell. Mrs. Abbott never pursued the issue since she and the old man had since divorced and gone their separate ways.

His short-lived romantic interest in Johnson over, Abbott decided to use Johnson's squatting to his advantage when he took over responsibility for his troubled, dope-smoking granddaughter, Colleen Carlton. Without asking he told both maids that they would be required to keep their eyes on the teenager. But when Ms. Carlton eventually moved back with her biological father, Johnson stuck around. Other than serving up breakfast now and then and sticking her nose into Abbott business and family matters that are none of her concern, Johnson does little to earn her keep.

The situation was exasperated this week. During a discussion Tuesday with his son and daughter about a new house guest, Johnson got all snippy.

"I don't mean to get into your business, but why are things moving so fast," she grumped when Abbott revealed that the guest was none other than gold digger Gloria Fisher.

Nodding their pointed heads in agreement Jack Abbott and Ashley Carlton thought it was a good question. Why were things moving so fast when Poppy had only known Fisher a few days?

The old guy made it clear that he and Fisher won't be shacking up. "She'll have her own suite," Abbott drooled as the kids and Johnson must have wondered, "Suite? What suite? We mean, Jesus! This place has been like a hotel, but other than the upstairs bedroom with the California king-sized bed this ain't the Genoa City Hotel."

Hacking badly now, Johnson stopped to ask if Fisher would be staying there because of her feelings for the old timer.

"Gosh, I don't know. You mean like the feelings you once had for me? You didn't seem to mind then, bitch. So just shut the hell up," Abbott did not say, but did confirm that feelings for the human race - something Johnson wouldn't know about - played a role in his decision.

Remembering that their Pa is at that age when he could draw his last breath at any moment the kids surmised that Abbott should live out the remainder of his golden years a happy man. Nothing would please any man more than to die in the saddle. If living with a gold-digger who wants nothing more than to, um, suck him dry and run off with the family jewels made Abbott happy, then so be it.

While he did not need it Abbott was pleased to have his children's approval albeit for Carlton's slight reservation as if with all her problems Ashley gave a roaring rip what happens and should have been having breakfast with her own family.

Then, for whatever reason, maybe because he's senile, Abbott asked Johnson what she thought now that he had the kid's approval.

"Sight unseen, I'm willing to keep an open mind," the old maid actually said.

Well whoopty do! Wasn't that special? What? Was the geezer supposed to get down on his knees and thank the old bag? What business was it of this squatter who lives for free, sits around on her ass all day while her grandniece, Lily Winters, lies in a coma, runs up the water, electric and phone bills? What nerve of this hag to even dare inject herself into such a personal decision?

While Gloria Fisher's motives are less than admirable at this point, there is some hope that by moving into the Abbott home one of the first things she'll do is to put the free loader in her place.