2005 News Archives
Kevin Fisher
See also: Mac Browning  Michael Baldwin  Gloria Fisher-Abbott  Tom Fisher

Is This Any Way to Run a Business?

November 22, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

The old saying better late than never certainly applied this week as a semi-senile Victor Newman came to his senses, albeit it briefly. Following his critical mistake of hiring coffee shop owner Kevin Fisher to fix what was thought to be a serious mistake with his company's computer system, Victor was pounding on an old bag at the prestigious Athletic Club Tuesday when he noticed Kevin on a treadmill nearby.

Victor must have thought it was odd, for in Genoa City time, only a few hours had passed since Kevin had been given the job. Either Kevin had fixed the problem, or he was goofing off. If the problem had been resolved why hadn't Victor been informed? Before he could ask, Victor noticed nemesis Jack Abbott approach Kevin and a short discussion take place.

Had he been alert Kevin would have seen Victor and known never, ever be seen speaking to a Newman enemy with the great man watching. Kevin was taken aback when Jack referred to him as "Little Bro" and thought it strange as it wasn't so long ago when Jack considered him nothing less than "Little Scum". And while just an hour ago Jack had told him he too can become part of the uppity Abbott family, Kevin didn't get it.

His butter knife waving in the air, Jack explained again the "cardinal rule" in Genoa City whereas women who marry old man Abbott automatically become Abbotts. Jack knew he could get away with his lies because Kevin was not present that day he and his sister smeared Kevin's brother swearing it would be a cold day in Hell before Michael Baldwin could consider himself part of the Abbott family much less consider himself an Abbott.

Called away on an urgent matter, Jack later returned to demand Kevin tell what he found on the Newman computer unaware that Victor had gotten to Kevin first. All Kevin would say is that if Jack wants to know he should ask Phyllis Summers, whom Kevin called Jack's "wife". Strange as it was, Kevin said he'd been fired by Victor only moments earlier and a good thing it was as it let him off the reporting to the master hook. Now Jack was really confused. What was on the computer? Kevin would only say that whatever it was, Phyllis took it off. As for asking what, Jack said he had no intention of asking Phyllis and for Kevin not to ask either. Before Kevin could ask, "So why did you ask me what I found it you don't want to know?" Jack was gone.

Also strange, was Victor calling Kevin "son". Unlike Jack, the CEO of a major corporation, Kevin did not stand and salute or call Jack "sir". He did, however, kiss Victor's hand and licked his boots and called him "Mr. Newman" when Victor demanded to know what he spoke with Jack about and why he hadn't reported in.

Claiming he'd been "cornered", Kevin said he planned to file a report with private detective Paul Williams even though it was Victor who had personally blessed him with an opportunity of a lifetime. To wit, performing Victor's dirty work. Flustered from being in Victor's long shadow so long, Kevin got nervous. Nearly peeing his pants, Kevin hemmed and hawed until Victor fired his ass on the spot. Before leaving, Victor gave Kevin one of his infamous warnings. Get caught in bed with Jack Abbott and pay the price. In the meantime, Victor, unaware his problem no longer exists, said he intends to pay double for a real expert.

That Victor is out of the loop came as no surprise. Those collecting Newman megabucks have shown no interest in learning of Kevin's progress or reporting to the great one. Newman's son, Nick, working hand-in-hand with former employee Phyllis, doesn't like that daddy poked his nose into company business and Newman's daughter, Victoria, was too busy at the time trying to get employee Brad Carlton into her bed.

But what's really interesting is what Mac Browning must be thinking. As new owner of the Jitter Joint, Mac hasn't seen Kevin in days. The only thing she knows about running a coffee shop is what she learned at a weekend seminar which is just slightly more than Kevin knows. Shouldn't Mac be climbing the walls? Shouldn't she be very pissed that Kevin's not around? That he's at the gym when he should be on the job? Is this any way to run a business?

Report to the Master

November 16, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

It's the day we've been waiting for. The day Kevin Fisher makes his first report to the Master of Disaster; the once shrewd businessman Victor Newman who has since become a senile old man drooling in a cup. Yes, Kevin. The coffee shop owner who learned about computers in bookkeeping class, the firebug and child molester who was forgiven after finding God, after worming his way around Newman's most crucial computer system had this to say:

Snore...

Found fast asleep in the conference room where he was last seen the night before accessing the mainframe, Kevin, can I kiss your ass Mr. Newman?, snapped to attention when Victor woke him up. While he hasn't found anything suspicious, Kevin said that if there's something to be found - he'll find it. For a brief moment Victor came to his senses. It could be very well that Kevin is out of his league. If that's the case, if Kevin doesn't find something soon, Victor warned he'll be "flying in" a real computer nerd.

How sad is it that a man like Victor has so lost touch with reality? How is it a man with the sense to know that quacks at the God Have Mercy Medical Center are not qualified to operate on immediate members of the Newman family, often calls in the world's most notable physicians yet when it comes to the health of an empire he built from the ground up with his bare hands, turns to a hunkmonkey pretending to be a private detective to locate an "expert" in computer espionage and then accepts Kevin as that expert?

The questions are rhetorical; the subsequent answers are to be accepted at face value, but still we can't help but ask: how can this be? How could Victor grant Kevin unfettered access to the kingdom? Is the point moot? If Kevin finds the "backdoor" left open by Phyllis Summers and thus saves Newman Enterprises from a fate worse than a death will Kevin point at us and say, "See? I told I've changed"?

Will J.T. Hellstrom stifle a yawn and say, "Well, times are a-changin'. You don't need no school learnin' anymore to become a PI and technology is so commonplace just about anyone can figure out the codes which make computers do what they do so why waste good money on college educated degree-packing techno geeks when we've got Kevin?"

Will Victor remind us of all the uneducated, unskilled, inexperienced street urchins who came to him looking for work and after only a few hours in the mailroom went on to become right-hand men and spokeswomen and streaming video Internet stars? Will he say Kevin is a prime example of what happens when you give losers a second chance?

If what Kevin did next is any indication, not bloody likely. While he could have obtained a cup of coffee right there at Newman Enterprises, Kevin trudged all the way over to his Jitter Joint where Daniel Romalotti just happened to be tanking up on caffeine on his way to school. Aware too that Daniel's mother was there, that Phyllis Summers is thought to be the evil computer hacker/terrorist he's helping to expose, Kevin nevertheless told Daniel how he'd been up all night working on a computer problem and asked whether Phyllis might be able to share her "special techniques" with him.

Without saying, "Well, my mother is right over there why don't you ask her," Daniel needed to know why the interest in his mother's techniques? Before Kevin could say Phyllis said she wanted to know too. It was then Kevin explained he's setting up a computer system for the Jitter Joint but when asked for specifics, told Phyllis a disc containing information to help her understand the complexities had been left at home. No fool she, Phyllis let Kevin know she thinks he's trying to entrap someone.

But it got worse. Later, punching up Victor's cell number, Phyllis got straight through to the Master. "Are you having a PI investigate my work on the web site?" she demanded. Victor did not laugh. He did not say, "Whatever gave you the idea Kevin's a PI?" He did say that if Phyllis owned a company she'd undoubtedly do everything to protect it if she thought some hired and fired and hired and fired employee now working for the competition had been asked to fix her former employers' website. Hanging up, Phyllis surmised Victor's too smart to have hired Kevin.

Only it got worse. Kevin, apparently forgetting that he's not supposed to tell anyone what he's doing, went straight to the one, um, man who probably hates him most and did everything possible to have his ass locked up. Yup, Kevin told Paul Williams he thinks, duh, Phyllis is onto him.

Coffee Baron Becomes Computer Guru

November 14, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

I guess you had to be there to fully appreciate why Victor Newman this week settled on a firebug and a hunkmonkey to solve what he suspects is computer espionage going on within his own company.

In a rush to complete a last minute chore assigned him by Victor, J.T. Hellstrom combed the city for an expert in computer espionage. The best he could find was some dude from a company called IT who took the job then cancelled out due to a family emergency. Desperate, J.T. had to make a snap decision. He'd heard that Kevin Fisher, the freak who nearly killed his girlfriend, the sexual predator who gave his girlfriend's friend a sexually transmitted disease, the sissy boy he'd tried so hard to have locked up and said over and over how much he hated, had some knowledge of computers. And so J.T. asked if Kevin would like to do him a favor by working on the Newman computer system to determine whether it has been compromised.

Since J.T. doesn't have the authority to take a crap without asking permission, since he must constantly get on his knees to ask his "boss" Paul Williams if he can kiss his ass, and is now pretty much doing the same thing by his annoying habit of calling Victor "sir" and "Mr. Newman", may I kiss your ass sir J.T. hauled Kevin over to Newman Enterprises where he somehow knew the semi-retired, spends most of his time drooling in a cup at the Newman Ponderosa, Victor would be this day.

"I've found the answer to our problem," J.T. proudly announced before the great man.

Praising his Pa at the time, for not sticking his nose into the day-to-day business activities, Nick Newman was shocked. Problem? Who's got a problem?

For a fleeting moment one might have thought Nick would have said no freaking way is Kevin going to do anything for Newman Enterprises except maybe clean the toilets. But because he's just as lame as the rest of these boobs, Nick got all bent.

"You hired a PI?" he snarled.

Unfortunately those gathered in the room didn't fall down laughing. They didn't slap Nick on the back, or say, "Good one, Nick! J.T.'s a PI? You could have fooled us."

As it so often does, Nick's moronic mindset got worse.

"What's Fisher doing here?" he asked.

Hey Nick! Have you forgotten? Kevin's your pal! You sold the Jitter Joint to him and wished him well. Remember? Yes, you once hated Kevin, but that was before Kevin found God. Now you're questioning why Kevin would be in your father's office? Shame on you.

It was then Victor confessed. Somebody's messing with the Newman website so he hired J.T. to get to the bottom of it.

After chasing Kevin and J.T. out of the office, Nick lit into his Pa. How dare Victor pull the gold spoon out of his mouth and check it for spittle? Victor was taken aback. Had Nick forgotten who makes his blue blood flow? Did he forget, again, who pays for the outhouse Nick and his wife live in rent free? The rich lifestyle?

"You hired a PI behind my back," Nick pouted, while pulling out the old tape he keeps in his pocket, the one where Nick rants how Pa doesn't trust him.

"It goes back to your inability to stay away from the family business," Nick bitched, stomping again on the family values he is so quick to revere whenever it suits his agenda.

Without getting into the hypocrisy, the 4,521st time Nick has run this tape, suffice it was that for the 4,521st time Victor told him never to forget where the money comes from. That without Pa, Nick would be nothing, which of course he's always been.

And so it came back to Victor telling Nick he wants "an expect" to check the computer system. Nick did not laugh. He did not say, "Shouldn't we hire an expert then?"

Meantime, in the conference room where Kevin and J.T. were cooling their jets, Kevin was looking over the computer system. What? The system is in a conference room? Apparently. From the computer Kevin was digging into he could see how impressive it was.

"I can hardly wait to get my hands on it," he salivated, and as J.T. asked again whether Kevin is up for the job Nick walked in to say Kevin had been hired.

Kevin immediately started pecking away at the keyboard. He ordered J.T. to stop looking over his shoulder because it interfered with his ability to concentrate. Then Victor walked in. Both boys stood up and snapped to attention.

"May we kiss your ass, Mr. Newman?" they did not say, but the implication was clear that had Victor dropped his pants J.T. and Kevin would have done that - and more.

In a rare, good mood, Victor told the boys not to treat him like some failed president and then treated Kevin like an old friend before it dawned on him. When did Kevin become a computer expert? Where did Kevin get his training?

"I took accounting at GCU," Kevin hacked.

Satisfied, Victor left the room.

I know, I know. You don't need me telling you how stupid this is. You know damn well that any business, even the Quickie Mart down the street, require those responsible for its critical computer files to have at least a two year degree in Computer Science. You know damn well that the President, the CEO, the manager of any company, would never, ever, ask a boy like J.T. to do much more than mow the lawn.

Except now, the deed is done. Now we must accept that Kevin can forget about his coffee shop responsibilities. Let co-owner Mac Browning make a success of that. She did, after all, attend a seminar. We must accept that J.T. is a PI. We must understand that in their old age, old men like Victor get senile.

November 8, 2005
Coffee Shop Early Closing Causes Stir
Following the announcement that porn will not be allowed on public computers at the local coffee shop, Jitter Joint owners Kevin Fisher and Mac Browning decided to close the shop "early" Tuesday night for what reason wasn't immediately clear other than Mr. Fisher needed a good night's sleep before installing porn filtering software the next morning. The decision pissed off a number of customers who complained that when a store says it's open until 11PM, they expect it to be open until 11PM.

"I was there when they shooed us out," college student Ray Coca told the GCN. "I was getting another latte when that [expletive] firebug cut me off! See if I ever go back to that dump. No porn, now they're closing whenever they feel like it."

Other upset consumers reported a strange vibe in the air when Fisher urged his partner to lock the patio doors.

"When a place like this closes early and the owner is talking about the patio doors it can mean only one thing: trouble. I got the hell out of there," said security guard Wendy Law.

Closed Coffee Shop Owner Taken Hostage, Released
The subject of complaints by irate customers because it closed early Tuesday night, the Jitter Joint coffee shop was the scene of a hostage taking when Genoa City's most dangerous man showed up after hours and held co-owner Mac Browning against her will.

"All I wanted was her help convincing Kevin to rat his brother out. I know that bastard planted drugs on me and I'm not taking the fall for something I didn't do," said Tom Fisher, presently facing charges of possessing a large quantity of methamphetamine with intent to distribute.

What could have been a replay of Billy Abbott hitting Tom over the head with a fireplace poker, had it only been a few years earlier and had the scene unfolded at the Chancellor Mausoleum, began falling apart when Tom's victim, Lauren Fenmore, showed up for lattes to go. Stumbling into the scene without her bodyguard - hired to protect her from Tom - Lauren made a failed attempt to get Mac out into the parking lot where the bodyguard was waiting in a car.

When Tom refused to let anyone leave, Michael Baldwin miraculously appeared and a tussle ensued with Lauren slapping at Tom, "Let him go." At last report Michael was reportedly choking Tom to death, but the end of Tom's life did not appear imminent.

Jitter Joint Bans Porn!

November 7, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

Pornography is bad. Way, way bad.

Porn is, in fact, icky, bad, blasphemous and sacrilegious. It looks awful with the decor, never leaves the seat up, never does the dishes and makes Mommy resentful and Timmy cry and Daddy spend 14 hours a day glued to buckassnaked.com as he maxes out the MasterCard on sex toys and nipple clips. This much everyone knows.

Thank goodness for Kevin Fisher. I mean, whew. That is to say, thank goodness for Kevin's latest agitated cultural salvo, Protection from Pornography Policy, coming hot on the heels of his policy of having sex with 16-year-old girls and giving them STDs.

Kevin's coffee shop customers should plan accordingly and not expect to use Jitter Joint computers for porn surfing. Porn has been banned. Kevin has respectfully requested that instead, those in need of porn spend their time only thinking about Jesus and numb missionary-position sex, all while blocking out all thoughts of thumping moaning fleshy things that go oooh in the night? Thank God for Kevin.

After all, porn ruins families. And communities. And children. And the upholstery. This is what Kevin would like you to believe. This is why he invented the Protection from Pornography policy. Because you need to know he and co-owner Mac Browning care. They are on guard.

Here is the message: Despite how porn is a multibillion-dollar, record-breaking, insanely popular, widely accepted, often exceedingly sexy, fake orgasm and thrust thrust thrust, it doesn't really matter. It is pure evil, they say. Unless, you know, it's not. Porn remains so reviled by every sanctimonious person in Genoa City it boggles the mind. Remember those sex toys found at Katherine Sterling's mausoleum? Remember how John Abbott was so appalled when Larry 'Big Dog' Warton brought the toys to the office and threw them at Jill Abbott? Remember when the pink Speedo-wearing Shaun Bridges put on a strip show right in Jill's office and we all wondered who would save the children?

Here the porn biz is raking in upward of $12 billion per year and Kevin goes and bans it? What kind of business man is he? Shouldn't he crunch the numbers and see all that business going out the door because customers will go elsewhere for their porn? If Kevin can't see the mistake he's making, Mac should. She knows how Ralph Hunnicutt got off seeing her in nothing but a bra and panties. Or, so she said. So she ran away because Ralph was creeping her out. Good thing too or else Mac would never know of her rich grandmother who paid for her schooling so she could end up owning a coffee shop.

Ah, Mac and Kevin don't want to talk about how porn is generally enjoyed by hundreds of millions of people from all walks of life. Cosmetic company CEOs, lawyers, mechanics, teenagers and college kids.

No, better to demonize it all. Better to growl at customers to just get the hell out and never come back if they're ever again caught trying to look at porn in a coffee shop. Porn is very bad indeed and all who view it should be strung up by their testicles. Porn, much like terrorism and gays and "partial birth" abortion and paganism and gun control and anything else they can think of, is a wonderfully convenient hot button to promote the incredibly successful fear-based agenda. You know the one: Keep that evil Kevin away from my daughter because he's utterly perverted. Oops. Forget that. Kevin is now just the sweetest boy Neil and Dru Winters and Brad Carlton and J.T. Hellstrom ever did know. Hell, when word gets out Kevin has banned porn how far away will another heroism award be?

And what about the more explicit pornographies? Like, say, the pornography of Kevin's toxic foodstuffs? Or the Athletic Club swill Gina Roma dishes out, or the 'dogs' Tom Fisher feeds to Ashley Carlton? What of the danger of allowing Abby Carlton and Noah Newman to eat pancakes, bacon and eggs and lots and lots of ice cream? What of the girls stripping down at Marsino's or whatever its called these days?

No no no. Porn - the sexual kind - is just another evildoer. Just another pillaging army of well-endowed hip-grinding badness determined to ruin marriages and corrupt children and turn them into coke-sniffing silicone-enhanced sex freaks. This is the Genoa City way. People here do not need education. They do not need increased awareness or understanding that trying to have sex with their father-in-law is wrong.

Jitter Joint customers need Kevin's protection. They need a pervert safeguarding them from the evildoers, from the bad things like nonexistent WMDs and crazy free-thinking disgusting women always wanting to control their own bodies. Be very afraid. Be fearful and excessively concerned and get out the vote and please, above all, no sexual awareness, and do not question anything. There there now. Kevin is here. The big bad pornography will not harm his customers anymore. Kevin has installed filtering software on JJ computers. See? All better.

The Real Crazies

August 22, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

So suddenly crazy Kevin Fisher is an expert on Sheila Carter? Given his chat with Michael Baldwin it would seem that way. With the little information Michael has passed along Kevin sees Sheila as "notorious"? More notorious than he, or does anyone making Lauren Fenmore's life miserable qualify as notorious? Just what did Michael see when he went to visit Sheila at the cuckoo's nest in Hemet, CA? A woman who looked like her photos in those newspaper archives which, oddly, were taken last month? A woman who is "physically" looking like her old self, but mentally on another planet? How does Michael knows this? Did he speak with Sheila? "She's on another planet. She's pretty well gone," Michael said Monday.

If anyone is gone it's Michael. Has he forgotten it wasn't so long ago Kevin was Lauren's worse nightmare? And why couldn't Kevin believe Michael went all the way to California? He didn't have a problem with Michael going to Canada. Michael, of course, said he had to see Sheila with his own eyes so he'd be ready for the "hard" questions put to him by Lauren. Hard? What was so hard about telling Lauren he looked up some old news? Doesn't he have a right to know a little something about Genoa City's oldest slut before he marries her? Doesn't she have the same right? Didn't Lauren say afterwards she was happy and that the wedding will go forth and she's never felt better thanks to Michael's report that Sheila is locked up "tighter than Hannibal Lecter?

Who are the real crazies here? The more Michael, Kevin and Lauren flap their gums about Sheila the more it does to make Sheila look to be the sane one. Who in their right mind, so fearing for her life all these years supposedly, would want to see Sheila as Lauren plans to do? A normal woman would just be happy knowing Sheila is still locked up which Lauren should have known all along had she bothered to keep track. And why, if Sheila is such a danger, hasn't the government kept Lauren abreast of Sheila's status? If it's true, that Sheila escaped recently but was recaptured, why wasn't Lauren aware of this? According to Michael, the reason Lauren must see Sheila is so that she can "move on with her life."

Why do freaks like Michael keep saying this? Why for the past thirty years have so many said so often that they're moving on with their meaningless lives but never get anywhere? And on the topic of moving why was Kevin so shocked to learn Michael is going to ask Lauren to move in with him before the wedding? When did Kevin become a radical rightwing Bible thumper? When did Kevin, who seduced a minor child at his apartment and gave her an STD, become so introverted and old school thinking in his ways? Men and women have been living together without being married since the 60s. Unless they're like hunkmonkeys J.T. Hellstrom's and virginal Mac Browning's and married to the Mob Brittany Marsino's, people in love shack up so they can test the marital waters to be sure getting married isn't a mistake and won't add to the already 50-percent divorce rate.

Then again, maybe Kevin saw the writing on the wall. Lauren moving in will almost certainly mean he'll have to move out. Kevin will have to stop sponging off his brother. He won't get to hear the bed squeaking in the next room while he gets off on fantasizing what it must be like having sex with someone besides Madam Palm and her five sisters. It might mean too that Kevin might have to get a job. Not that it should be as difficult as Kevin makes finding gainful employment to be. Hell, if Kevin really wants a job he need only ask Gina Roma. As manager of the local gym/restaurant Gina would gladly employ the freak who burned down her RoadKill Cafe. At last report there's an opening for bartender.

"I've been thinking about getting a place of my own again so I can play my music loud and eat potato chips on the sofa," says Kevin.

But for all the concern, for all the months Kevin has been carrying around the Want Ads, he has yet to apply anywhere. The way things have been going for him since becoming a "changed" man Kevin could get a job at Newman Enterprises filing stuff. He could take Devon Hamilton's job. God knows, Devon isn't performing. After less than an hour at the job his adopted father arranged for him, Devon hasn't worked since. Not that that's unusual in a city where trust fund babies grow up to run their parent's empire, Kevin doesn't really need a job. He's got his share of Michael's lottery winning to fall back on. $492,000 rotting in a bank shows, if nothing else, how crazy these loonies are. Hopefully, before that money is gone, Kevin will have purchased the Newman Jitter Joint. Not that the place is up for sale, Kevin says he's doing all "the leg work" to make it happen when, typically, Kevin is letting some woman, albeit Mac Browning, do the work for him.

What? Need more proof? How about Kevin moving into the Chancellor mausoleum with Mac? Sound crazy? Not at all as rumors at this very moment are flying that Mac will invite Kevin to stay with her at the sprawling estate because there's nothing crazier than Kevin sharing anything with a hunkmonkey who hates his guts, newest mausoleum resident, J.T. Hellstrom.

So let them talk of crazy Sheila and getting jobs and moving on all they want. What matters is that the townsfolk aren't stupid. They know who the real crazies are.

Suspicious Minds

May 18, 2005

The evildoers are coming. Again.

No really, they are. This time we really mean it. Those last 23 times we only partly meant it but this time we really really mean it and look, even whitish Kevin Fisher is muttering through the scary side of his crooked mouth that fresh terrorist attacks on Genoa City are almost a certainty.

Physical Therapist Gitta Hendrickson is an illegal alien! Worse yet, Gitta is a superstitious illegal alien who wears an omelette around her neck. Sure, we know it's not an egg. But it may as well be for how scrambled this latest off-shoot of who can terrorize who the most unravels. That Gitta is in America illegally is not something Kevin and his mother can find out so easily. That she lights candles alone in her room at night while furiously working the weege board, that she contacts demons or ghost or spirits trapped on earth, or even in John Abbott's home is, however.

By performing a Google search Kevin has discovered that Gitta's omelette must not be touched by anyone other than Gitta. If the omelette is touched it will lose its power. It will cease to protect Gitta from evil. What Kevin does not know is that scriptures from the Books of Solomon can protect Gitta and undo the spell Kevin thinks he broke by sneaking around Wednesday inside the Abbott Hotel. What Kevin does not know is that an omelette is a tool the demons can use too to get even with those who wish the omelette holder harm.

And look here's Gloria Abbott again, popping up like some sort of agitated jackrabbit, telling her older son that she's getting into some new "stuff". Isn't everyone? There's Gloria waiting for her estranged husband to come home from dining out with Gitta and as she goes off to help tuck the old geezer into bed gives Kevin the sign it's okay for him to come out of hiding. The time never more right for him to work his special magic as he tinkers with Gitta's purse containing the omelette. And you know Kevin would never lie about going into Gitta's purse, because he's too honest and pure and despite all contrary evidence doesn't actually adore evil like Lily Winters adores STDs.

Very sorry but Gitta's omelette isn't powerful enough to prevent suicidal fanatics from strapping C-4 to their chests and blowing up a crowded Newman Jitter Joint or maybe a certain little shop of horrors, but it is, apparently, strong enough to cause something bad to happen to Gitta now that it's been touched by a psycho freak.

And aren't you just terribly scared that something very bad this way comes? Good now please hush up and stop asking questions because this is the pattern. Like some horrible clockwork they come, fresh insurgencies from the Fisher family or possibly a stern-faced Nick Newman, paced out every month or so just so you don't get too complacent, too wary, too, you know, suspicious.

Just so you don't possibly become a little too skeptical and maybe start looking around and noticing you seem to have forgotten to wash the dishes for a week because you were under a spell and wanted to see if Gitta would get busted by the INS as she should, or run out of town by a nutjob fruitcake and his mother.

This is the feeling. With the impending death of Cassie Newman, with the elimination of what was the smartest kid in all of Genoa City, with the end of what could have been an interesting character the best they can do is hammer us with voodoo.

For the next few weeks they'll be ringing the big bell of dread at every opportunity and at very specific times in order to deflect attention and get a specific reaction. Are you hanging on for dear life? Can you stand the drama? This is what they want you to think. Lots of mean evil people are out there deserving to be hated simply because they believe in the occult. Kevin and Gloria are merely trying to protect Yawn in the best way they know how. Blowing Gitta away is a good thing. Good versus evil. Good versus suspicious minds.

Cry Babies from Hell

April 26, 2005

If you could go back in time there's a good chance you'd hear Mac Browning, or her mother Amanda Hunnicutt, thanking their higher power they'll never have to see Ralph Hunnicutt again. Ralph, like so many fathers responsible for insecure women and cry babies from Hell, was a sleaze. He was said to have made overt sexual advances toward his step-daughter which explains today why Mac has always been colder than a Kenmore refrigerator and why Amanda let Mac tar and feather and run her out of Genoa City on a rail.

This too explains why - when Gloria Abbott told eldest son Michael Baldwin this week she thanks the Lord she'll never have to see the man again - you knew at that very instant Terrible Tom Fisher was doing dastardly things to his "boy" Kevin.

Dang, but what Gloria's words foretold the brutal onslaught of another irritating little side effect of forcibly liberating Kevin who will again be getting reamed from both ends. Tom, the Great Liberator, the bringer of peace and calm will soon help Kevin manage all their hundreds of dollars worth of delicious lottery winnings. Can't they see the joy and happiness? Oh wait.

Kevin is lashing out. Kevin is not afraid of Tom. He believes Tom got into his brother's ritzy pod because the door was unlocked. Won't give dear Dad a hug and if Dad tries to hug him it'll be the last thing Tom ever does. Oh my! Kevin isn't a little kid anymore. He's not the boy Tom locked in a closet and beat on like a mangy dog. Kevin is rough and tough now. He can call Tom a "coward" and a thuggish "bastard" and have wet dreams of punching Tom in the nose then kicking him and putting cigarettes out in his eye as he throws Tom into a closet refusing to let him out no matter how much Tom begs.

Violence begets violence. How sweet it is.

Just one Terrible Tom slap later and Kevin is whimpering like a little puppy as Daddy reminds him he can run but he can't hide. Terrible Tom will find the "cockroach", squash him like a Christine 'Bug' Blair, make Kevin grateful to have a Pa who beats his kids and call him "sir" as they beg for more.

So what does Tom want from his "blood"? The lottery money, of course. Gasp, who knew? Beautiful is the logic of the Great Liberator. Except that it would have happened anyway, somehow, some way, because Tom had been planning this father/child reunion for years. Before Kevin became an Internet stalker. Before Kevin tried to grease Colleen Carlton, and long before Kevin fell in love with Lauren Fenmore, Tom relished the day he'd be able to smack Kevin around again with total manly gluttony and big-ass cigars for everyone. More or less.

Way back when, Tom drew up a vile little plan. And the plan was ugly and violent and only needed a catalyst to kick it into gear which less than $500,000 in lottery winnings awkwardly provided. And, lo and behold, boom! Tom is back.

So you might think, gosh, can't Kevin tell his brother? Can't Michael Baldwin go to the cops and get a restraining order against Tom? Can't Hank Weber be all over Tom like flies on a dead horse and trample on Tom's rights like a certain kraut-eating private dick, like a certain Winters goon and those pitchfork-welding teenagers did to Kevin?

Sorry, Baldwin might be leaving town. Sorry, can't tell mommy dearest either for Gloria will only freak about Tom's return much the same way Amanda did when Ralph returned. Gloria will only enable Tom like Amanda enabled Ralph. So helpless, these frail women. And what of Kevin? Can't he just have the locks changed or go to the cops, swear out a complaint, be the big boy he claims?

Sorry. Can't have that. Too early in the game. Too soon for Kevin to be a man. Tom ain't some scaredy cat like Lily Winters.

Instead, we'll get ghastly scenes of a brutalized people. A scruffy Tom pretending to be a telephone lineman for the County. We'll get Tom having tea at the Chancellor Mausoleum, kidnapping some old woman or getting cracked over the head with fireplace poker by some sissy boy. There will be much anguish and looking absolutely dumbfounded faces on sad people wondering who's the man in orange climbing about the Walnut Grove Academy rafters.

Think it can't happen? Break out your score cards. Put a big check mark next to New Mexico desert as one possible locale for the Terrible Tom Fisher saga has only just begun. 

Baldwin Cashes In, Fisher Cashing Out

April 25, 2005

Feeling so much more secure in his all-American money-happy lifestyle attorney Michael Baldwin announced this week that after the IRS took its share of his Wisconsin Lottery winnings he was left with $492,000 which was immediately placed in a stinking bank! No money market account for this guy. What's important is that all the money will be earning the lowest possible interest rate. To celebrate Baldwin threw a party for family members and assorted friends at his pod and soon the imported from California champagne was flowing and finger-food was delivered in person by none other than Athletic Supporter Club Manager Gina Roma.

In a rip-your-patriotic-heart-out-and-spit-on-it sort of way Baldwin's half-brother toasted themselves and two good friends Lauren Fenmore and Mac Browning before Baldwin announced that a paltry $100,000 of his money will be donated to the tsunami relief fund in Kevin Fisher's name. Forget that if Baldwin had cashed in the ticket long ago he could have written the donation off on this year's taxes. Never mind donating to local schools, the so in need homeless shelter long forgotten or something Americans might actually be able to use, Baldwin said he'll give 50% of the remaining bucks to Kevin with a proviso that he be able to control how Kevin spends it. With the money left over Baldwin said some will be used to purchase a home for his mother, Gloria Abbott.

During the festivity it was noted that Browning was hobbling around like someone who'd caught their leg in a meat grinder. Asked about her limp Browning said "it's a long story" when actually it was a very short story given that third-degree burns don't cause people to limp unless, you know, the burn is on the bottom of her foot which in this case it wasn't, or her ass, which it maybe should have.

Trying to be nice to the always sticking her big nose in where it doesn't belong caterer Gloria was verbally accosted by the hideous and soul-shredding overweight oinker for not being at the hospital hovering over her estranged husband. But thanks to Lauren's intervention Roma was told to shut her pie hole and that it wasn't any of her damn business why Gloria had chosen partying with her rich sons over soothing some old goat's new hip. Adding insult to injury Roma was shown the door and told to put the meal on Baldwin's club tab despite the wad of hundreds he probably had in his wallet right about then.

For a moment it seemed as if the Baldwin/Fisher family had resolved to let it all hang out. It seemed like all their troubles would pass under the troubled waters bridge like a dead body tossed into a cesspool of slime. It was as if for once they would stop quivering with dread and move on to greener pastures putting all the depressed and bitter and appalling past behind them.

It was mostly hoped having money would change Kevin. That for once his rat dung infested self would cleanse itself and he'd maybe say, "Jesus with a 401(k) what am I doing? Why did I invite this patronizing me all the time Mac to such a personal family moment when there are far better babes in this town like Sharon Collins who would drop her pants in a heartbeat to be with a rich boy? Why do I need Mac telling me she'll always be in my corner caressing my violent tendencies with kid gloves?"

But look just beneath the surface. Look behind just one of Kevin's many layers of crud. See yet another haunting memory? Darkest before the dawn, baby. It is never easy. Genoaians must often be dragged, kicking and screaming into the future. And it is, as always, their choice as to how they embrace these imminent changes. Like so many sad trolls in Genoa City Kevin won't be able to ignore his old demon. Terrible Tom Fisher will twist him around his little finger forcing small Kevin to turn over his bank account by having him forge Baldwin's name thereby wiping out all financial progress the family has made.

How ironic would it be that Mac turns out to be the only person who can stop Tom when she thwarts a motel room kidnapping and takes Tom to the Chancellor mausoleum where he's locked in a closet and taunted by Kevin who stops by every so often to poke Tom with a stick?

Hey, better Tom than us! We, who unless Tom far exceeds Ralph Hunnicutt, Matt Clark and Chet Delancy in the evil department, will again be the ones to get poked in the eye by some of the most dullest writing known to man. 

The New Mac & Billy?

April 19, 2005

For the second time in as many days you had to feel sorry for crazy Kevin Fisher. The boy is so hard up for a chick he's resorted to Mac Browning of all things. The girl who couldn't have sex before her wedding has been ogled by Billy Abbott, Daniel Romalotti, J.T. Hellstrom and now Kevin again.

A few years older than chastity belt Mac Kevin has never been able to find a girl his own age in all of Genoa City. How pathetic. How sad that before Kevin dropped by the downtown Sugar Shack she shares with Hellstrom on Tuesday Mac was daydreaming about the load of spit J.T. had given her earlier. How gross that Mac is studying Spanish when she can barely speak English. How gut wrenching that she sees her roomie as the city's hunkmonkey with babes "coming out your ears" but can't get the closet queen to make any attempt at getting in her pants.

And hunkmonkey that he claims to be J.T. says he doesn't have a girl because he's waiting for the right one to come along. What a pile of bull. J.T. is as queer as a $3 bill. Not that there's anything wrong with that. J.T. should come clean. Stop breaking the hearts of little girls. Admit that he stays up nights praying that Billy or Raul Guittierez return. Confess that what really floats his boat is a good stiff man.

Could that be Kevin's problem too? When a kid his age has never had sex with a woman it's fairly obvious. When a man twenty-something has to keep bragging about what a "hero" he is there's a good possibility he's more a heroine than a hero.

When a male gender of the species falls on his knee pads before a foul smelling hasn't changed her tampon in days female, and coos like some sort of liberal namby-pamby bleeding-heart oatmeal-loving pansy that he wants to whip up a batch of instant oatmeal for her, you know something is wrong.

You already know Kevin is a few fries short of a Happy Meal but to tell Mac, as he did, that she has to "feed that gorgeous brain" was just plain creepy. For any man - during these times when being manly is kool - to tell a woman that "guys should want to wait on you hand and foot" should have sent cold chills down Mac's spine.

We love Kevin. Mostly because he's had his rights trampled by some of the sleaziest characters in Genoa City. But when he gets into these I'm in love modes and goes after some of the slimiest of the female gender it conjures up this urge to scream at Mac, "Run! Run as fast as you can."

J.T. is right when he says Kevin is a creep. It takes one to know one which is to say Mac is not much better. This is the same Mac who, as she basked in the warmth of the Chancellor Mausoleum, rejected and kicked her own mother out into the cold. For that there is no forgiveness.

For that there is to remember too Mac is a lying sack of swill. She told Kevin she's never liked guys showering her with attention but it simply isn't true. From the moment Katherine Sterling found her at the homeless showered Mac was showered with attention. She was showered with gifts from Fenmore's Department Store and loved each and every one. She was fawned over, pawed by Billy and loved the attention so much she agreed to marry him. To this day Mac says Billy was "the love of my life" even as she knows Billy is her cousin.

But there's no shame that Mac still loves Billy. Genoa City is, if nothing else, incest headquarters. In this godforsaken town if you aren't having sex with family members you aren't normal. Kevin must have felt Mac's love tunnel expanding and contracting as leaning over for a kiss he told her, "You can have those feelings again."

So how sticky was that? How barf-bag filling? Are we to be presented with yet another incestuous adventure whereas Mac falls for Kevin because it's okay with him if she thinks of Billy while he's putting the pork to her so long as Kevin gets to fondle a small porcelain statuette of a young Greek boy in the process?

When you look at it on paper it's damn disgusting. It's like, gag me with a spoon. Let us hope - no - let us pray right now that Mac comes to her senses because if it happens for real it'll repress the hell out of those scary women masturbating furiously with a deep sense of shame to reruns of 'Will & Grace'.

The only good thing that might come out of such a tryst is that finally J.T. finds an excuse to parade around the Sugar Shack in a full-length nightgown to the sound of his never became a hit single recorded in the Land of Fairies while shooting Kevin one of those who know you want me, get away from her, looks.

And since all he's ever wanted was for J.T. to stop verbally spanking him and bend him over his knee, Kevin might say to him, "Where have you been all my life?"

With Mac shouting "stop this silliness right now" in response to all the really bad jokes in this very article as J.T. and Kevin fall into each others arms, how nice would it be should the boys go on to live happily ever after provided those watching could actually tolerate the thought of two men in love?

How about that for something totally off the wall? Something to make you sit up and say damn it's not really the same old people playing sexual roulette. Imagine two tough-as-nails gay boys pawing each other with callused hands that know how to handle both a rifle and a turkey baster? Wouldn't that be a rush?

Okay, just asking. Just looking for any reason to prevent Mac and Kevin from becoming the next Mac and Billy.

God is on Abbott's Side

April 18, 2005

It's just plain crazy. You want to feel sorry for Kevin Fisher. You wish he would have killed Colleen Carlton and that entire pack of pitchfork-wielding teens when he had the chance. You felt bad when police detective Hank 'KGB' Weber, Paul 'Clueless' Williams, Dru and Neil Winters and others trampled on Kevin's rights and oppressed him at every turn. When Kevin does dumb things you can't help but wonder. Why does he do it? Why, when he'd been told to stay away from John Abbott, did Kevin say this week he needs for the old geezer to listen to him? Why, when his own brother told him to wait until the poor man got out of the hospital, did Kevin rush over to the God Have Mercy Medical Center to tell the old coot not to kick his mother to the curb? Why does Kevin think his mother has a chance in Hell of getting into Yawn's bed again when it was Gloria Fisher who lied to Yawn and pretty much orchestrated the demise of her own marriage?

Because the bozos in Genoa City don't see anything wrong with lying. They call it putting one's best foot forward. Kevin knows that Yawn's adults kids are violently opposed to their father having anything to do with anyone who so much as breathes the same air as his kind. Yet Kevin has it in his head to change their minds. Never mind that if the Abbott clan had any intention of doing so it would have when Kevin saved the old man from possible death.

Even if there was the slightest chance the Abbotts will realize they made a mountain out of a mole hill why would Kevin want to blow it? Why wouldn't he wait until the smoke clears? Why burst into the old timer's hospital room so that Yawn could squeal like a stuck pig with Ashley Carlton right there at the time?

"I like to strike when the iron's hot," is Kevin's motto.

Someone should strike Kevin in the head with a brick. Knock some sense into him. Get his priorities straight. Get him to stop leaving winning lottery tickets around the house like expired bus passes. So what if the ticket he and his brother have yet to be verified by Wisconsin lottery officials is only worth a million? If Abbott doesn't come around on his own might knowing the Fisher's have thousands of dollars entice him to be nice? Maybe that bitch Ashley will get down on her knees and say how sorry she is for being a walking fetish dungeon.

It seems like the Abbotts would come around with their hats in their hands. It seems like they'd want to throw a ticker-tape parade for Kevin, welcome him into their home like some hero and when that time comes look back at their shrill outcries in the same way people look back at old scars, dead five-year-old boys and laugh and point and shake their heads and sigh.

They did come oh so close to redeeming themselves. Yawn can't believe he's alive today thanks to Kevin. It's so ironic Ashley can't either. They know it's a freaking miracle but their misplaced pride just won't set them free.

Kevin didn't really save Yawn. God did!

It's true! Ashley said so herself. Said it with a straight face. It doesn't matter that Kevin found the old fart in a pool of blood. If God had wanted to take Yawn He would have. But He didn't because it wasn't Yawn's time to go.

So there. Screw Kevin. Screw Gloria. Screw 'em all. The bastards. We'll show 'em. God is on our side. Now that Yawn will be needing someone to watch him day and night he for sure don't need a wife. That's what his warped children are for. The kids are going to get him a live-in nurse. A physical therapist. Money is no object.

Boy, oh boy. Aren't we feeling proud right about now? Ain't it nice not being beholden to anyone? We're sticking to our guns. Narrow minded as ever. Our cold little hearts devoid of all goodness and decency. Hatemongering: good. Forgiveness: bad. Ah, hypocrisy, thy playpen is Genoa City.

Oh, my. There's Kevin now. Come to check on Yawn late at night. What do you think you're doing here you little twerp? You scum bucket. Want to talk to Yawn? Ain't gonna happen. Get your sticking ass out of our sight. Creep. And don't come back.

Now then, Daddy. What Bible verse was I reading? The one about doing unto others? Wait! How the hell did you get back here, Kevin? Nurse! Nurse! Call security. There, you freak. Tell it to the guards as they haul your sorry ass away kicking and screaming. Stay away from my Pa. Bastard. Rats. I lost my place. How about this one, Daddy? Matthew. Chapter 12: verse 4-5. And God said the best moral compass is to turn the other cheek. Ain't that what we're doing? Didn't we just kick Kevin's other cheek? Goddamn right we did.

Crazy Kevin Shows Balls!

April 1, 2005

Despite what we know about that shallow bastard John 'Yawn' Abbott it was comforting to hear Kevin Fisher tell the old fart late this week to have a little respect for his mother and for his mother not to apologize for being who she is. Gloria Fisher Abbott did not, as Yawn bawled like a little baby, lie to him all these months. Sure, she misrepresented her sons, but misrepresentation isn't the same a lying. Ask any politician.

As it sunk into his thick head just who Kevin is Yawn dumped a pile of Kevin is a dangerous person who should be in prison crap. Without any proof, going on only the rumors he's heard from a pack of pitchfork-welding teens led by a granddaughter who persistently lied through her teeth, snunk around behind his back when she was supposed to be in her room at night, ran away and smoked dope, Yawn bellowed how he'd been betrayed.

And when he realized Michael Baldwin is the other evil son Yawn nearly had a heart attack. He didn't want to hear any excuses from Gloria and most certainly not from Kevin. He took it for granted that all those rumors he'd heard about Gloria being a gold-digger were true although all she'd ever tried to squeeze out of the cold-hearted geezer was an ounce of compassion and a small incision into his will.

His bones of indignation aflame Yawn wanted to hurl. The sight of Kevin made him sick. He, feeling sucker-punched and morally eviscerated, his friends and family and loved ones all seeming to suffer in ways he couldn't imagine, Yawn's uptight rage so boiled over it made Gloria realize who the real victims are.

What a sad and hateful man Yawn is. How can anyone hold a grudge for so long? How can anyone have so much hatred for people he knows nothing about except from what he's heard from the backbiters?

"I am a compassionate person," Yawn spat, and as a laughing his fiery ass off Satan looked up, added he believes in giving people second chances except when said people are "scum".

Scum? Did someone mention Kevin's name?

"Hey, I'm not scum! I'm a human being," Kevin fired back quickly pointing out that he's just a little crazy is all. Not to worry. He's getting his head shrunk thanks to Yawn's best lady friend Katherine Sterling. For Christ's sake. Can't a guy turn his life around? Aren't people in this godforsaken city forever saying how they've moved on but never get anywhere?

What the hell? Yawn will call anyone who enters his home anything he pleases. He knows what Kevin did to Colleen Carlton and he'll never forgive him. Proof? Yawn doesn't need any. What about all that BS Yawn spewed just moments earlier about not letting what their children have become affect his relationship with women? What about accepting people for who they are?

To hell with that! In Sodom and Gomorraville Gloria is guilty by association.

As Yawn sputtered how this changes everything, how Gloria may not be the girl for him after all, damn but what that bitch didn't fly in. Ashley Carlton, in all her evil glory, put on an act of innocence. She wagged her crooked finger at Gloria. See? She's the evil here and if I say it enough times the old man will buy it, giggle.

Kevin wiped the smirk off Ashley's face when he told her there is a direct correlation between the violent and heartless tone of the Abbotts when those they hate can't live up to their perfect standards. And Ashley, so fractured and divisive and mean mewed, "we're not perfect" typical of the hatemongering mold from which she was hatched.

"You're perfectly stuck-up," Kevin lashed out again, as you, aching to get your hands around Ashley's neck and just squeeze until the last drop of bullshit drips from her foul mouth, broke out in huge round of applause.

You go, Kevin! Tell these high and mighty self-righteous creeps. Their crap stinks too!

PS/ Sorry folks, for the colorful language, but Ashley has worked my last nerve. It cannot be said often enough how evil this woman is.

Internet Sex Advocate Sucks

March 29, 2005

And then, as he was happily consuming his crow and goat cheese salad, damn but what Indian Agent Mac Browning didn't tell Kevin Fisher this week that just when she was starting to trust him again she got this strange vibe he's hiding something.

And immediately Kevin nodded and swooned and said why, yes. There is something more about his miserable little life she doesn't know about only it's not the stash of porn he keeps under the bed. It's a good thing. Something he's been waiting for just the right moment to spring on her.

Spring? As in let's spring a surprise on Mac? Mac don't like no stinking surprises especially when they come from Kevin. It's not that she hasn't told him what a good boy he was for accepting her surprise all expense paid emergency head shrinking visits. That was different.

So what is the big surprise?

Kevin won the lottery and soon it's going to be plastered in all the newspapers and on radio and TV about how Genoa City's most hated and most wanted fruitcake picked all six Powerball numbers and only won a million dollars?

Get out!

And after the IRS and the State of Wisconsin take their share Kevin might be lucky to end up with $500,000?

Get out!

And soon thereafter Kevin's terrible father will be coming to town so as to cut himself in on the action?

Get out!

"That's incredible," Mac squealed when she surmised that if the story made the papers it must be true.

In fact, Mac was so giddy she couldn't understand why he wasn't telling all his friends. Gosh, there's, um, well, come to think of it Kevin doesn't have any friends unless, yeah, there's Daniel Romalotti who isn't really Kevin's friend but pretends to be because the long hair thinks he's going to be part of the "Millionaire's Club" too.

In a heartbeat Mac's attitude toward Kevin changed. Visions of dollar bills danced before her eyes like the day she learned the filthy rich Katherine Sterling is her granny.

"This could change everything," she yelped, and as Daniel was itching to get Kevin over to the Ferrari dealership her beady eyes turned black when Kevin said the lottery ticket really isn't his in that it was purchased with money given to him by his brother.

But as Kevin told the sad tale of how he'd given the ticket to Michael Baldwin, who had forgotten all about it and to this day might not know he actually won the money had Kevin not opened his big yap, and his mother hadn't tried to divert the money from her own son, Mac's sticky fingers retracted. Kevin be a good boy for giving the ticket back. He done the good and decent thing. All hail Kevin's honesty.

Kevin didn't get it. Why wasn't Mac spanking him for having impure thoughts? Why wasn't she lecturing him on right and wrong? Because those two head shrinking sessions have turned him around? Is Mac's purity and innocence desire to troll the Internet looking for love rubbing off on him?

Lucky for Kevin, Mac indicated it might have been a different story had she found out about the ticket before Kevin came clean. As a reward for his honesty Mac hinted that if Kevin plays his cards right the day may come when she confesses one of her many secrets to him.

Crazy as the loon he is Kevin thought that was just the funniest damn thing he ever did hear Mac say. Not funny, as in why she gets to keep secrets from him yet he's expected to tell her his every nightmarish thought and check in with this wretched creature after each time he uses to the toilet, but funny ha ha as in Kevin is such a loser for letting this emotional leach suck his soul dry.

Lottery Winner Exposed!

March 24, 2005

Can you say who it is, really, who shrieks and cries and calls the local newspapers regarding a hot tip pertaining to the recent million dollar lottery and who has heretofore refused to claim the prize? Is it perhaps the most baffling and exasperating question of the week?

We need to know because I know no one who would do this and not a single reporter who would maybe say, "Yeah, we've been hoping somebody would call."

We need to know because these people apparently hold in their hands the shriveled testicles of most major media conglomerates in Genoa City and those pasty reporters covering the recent Newman Wreck Center attempted rape case. It was in all the papers and then promptly forgotten for had it been followed up these very same reporters might have asked Daniel Romalotti on Thursday, "Say, aren't you the dude who helped set Lily Winters up to be raped? Aren't you the dude whose mother told you to stay far away from Kevin Fisher? So why have you summoned me here to introduce Fisher as your butt buddy?"

One can only imagine that conversation. "Yeah, Mr. Reporter. You get over here quick. This is a big scoop. If we wait long enough I'm sure the lottery winner will show up too."

Sure enough. Kevin arrived at the Newman Jitter Joint right on cue and went into instant denial. Now the truth will come out and God knows how truth in this city is so despised and shunned.

"My buddy is a jokester," Kevin said as the suspicious reporter wondered if this was a ploy to get Kevin's name splashed across the newspaper again under a headline other than MOST WANTED DANGEROUS MAN.

Confused, as so many in this city are want to be, Kevin didn't understand why Daniel had, um, exposed him.

"I was trying to protect you," the long-hair replied, so damn concerned that should Michael Baldwin learn of his brother's windfall he'd snatch it away.

In a panic Kevin confessed to holding the winning ticket but wished to remain anonymous. As reporters for the fish-wrapping Chronicle so often do, Kevin was asked a mind-numbing question: did he fear being hit up for a loan? Then, so long as the reporter promised the story would run without comment from him, and apparently without verification from Wisconsin Lottery officials, Kevin did not object when his photo was taken.

In a time of fake news this didn't come as any surprise. Nor did Daniel's intervening in something that is none of his business except that he thinks he's entitled to a portion of the winnings as reward for helping Kevin confirm the lottery numbers.

It was only a matter of time until Kevin had to come forward or forfeit the money, but Daniel's action was as despicable as those spiteful people who take it upon themselves to say who should live and who should die. Daniel, with his secret margarine fetish, violated Kevin's right to privacy. When to inform the Press should not be decided by punkass kids hunting for handouts.

The one bright spot in this sad story is the slim chance that with his new wealth Kevin might consider slapping Daniel with a lawsuit. Kevin is older and much wiser. The only protection he needs is from snot-nosed little fascist in-training kids like Daniel.

Sugar Shack Showdown

February 24, 2005

There was more forced screaming and frantic begging Thursday at Genoa City's downtown Sugar Shack than your average Army boot camp. As they so often do crazy Kevin Fisher and girlie boy J.T. Hellstrom were hurling insults left and right like they were killing imaginary enemies with sticks and it was thrilling and brutal and a little sad.

Sad because Fisher was pleading with the latest girl of his freakish dreams to be his everyday main squeeze. Sad because Hellstrom was making funny noises, trying to be a badass and calling Fisher names, again. Pitiful it was that Fisher couldn't get it through his cracked head that Mac Browning doesn't feel about him the way he feels about her.

Funny, in a creepy way, that besides getting this lunatic to a shrink and allowing him to drool on her a few times, Browning has never done anything besides stand him up and ward off his sexual come ons like a frantic mother rabbit protects her young.

A pretentious megalomaniac overflowing with testosterone, with no source of income except perhaps for the few nickels and dimes thrown his way for those rare times he works at Lauren Fenmore's Little Shop of Horrors, or playing a private detective in training, Hellstrom snorted when Fisher asked if he might carry on a "private conversation" with Browning without the flag of hate being waved in his face.

Did Fisher not know he was standing smack dab in the middle of a hunkmonkey cage? Did Fisher not know who's paying 100% of Sugar Shack rent when just two years ago it took four school kids to come up with the money? Where J.T. gets the money was not up for discussion. Kevin had more important things on his mind.

Is it true Browning pities him? Is there not a chance in Hell that a girl with Bug's Bunny teeth would maybe let the craziest of crazies carry her books from school? Could his groveling get bleaker?

Impatient, acting like he had better things to do like load the bazooka into the Hummer, Hellstrom wondered why Fisher couldn't take the hint. Did he not know hot babes like Mac don't hang out with losers? Disasters waiting to happen? And what was Browning's excuse? Why couldn't she just tell the freak to buzz off? Did Mac not know Kevin's history? Had she not heard a zillion times how "dangerous" Kevin is?

When it seemed at any moment there would be these limp-wrist punches followed by J.T. saying, "I'm gonna take you down" and Kevin saying "Oooh. I am all tingly," Mac said J.T. had no right telling her how she feels. People like she and Kevin are not what they seem on the outside. It's what's going on inside that counts. In their case it's, oh, so complicated, but whacks can "change and grow" so J.T. should cut Kevin some slack; look at how far he's come since Mac was a Glow Worm.

J.T. said yeah, he's changed, but then he didn't burn down the RoadKill Cafe or, wink-wink, "get obsessed" about people. He never stalked Kevin, did his best to have Kevin tossed into a gulag, humiliated Kevin and himself numerous times in public. Told Kevin to stay out of the Newman Jitter Joint or anyplace J.T. and his pitchfork-wielding pals should show up at. Oh yes, J.T. is so changed.

For all the pointlessness, after all the regurgitated dialog, Kevin could only whimper. Did Mac really want him to get lost?

Adding to the superfluous tripe Mac said that if Kevin had to ask then maybe he should. This in turn answered Kevin's burning question so off he skipped like a giddy school girl leaving J.T. to say he'll leave Kevin alone if that's what Mac wants so long as she stops calling him Brittany Marsino's "backup" husband.

For all the time wasted the Sugar Shack showdown did prove again that the more things change the more they stay the same. These freaky kids are easily lulled and apparently hungry to engage in more badly written dialog featuring faded overnight rock stars, the mentally ill and the hard up for sex who have no coherence or purpose but to pummel themselves with ruthless clichés.

The Cycle Of Hate Remains Unbroken

February 8, 2005

The dazzling and still potently relevant 2004 criminal charges pending against crazy Kevin Fisher continued unfolding this week in a vain attempt to draw more observers into the deep charm and spellbinding web of a story that should have died when the inept Genoa City Police Department was unable or unwilling to charge Fisher with any of the many crimes he committed that year.

Now the question seems to be whether the training Mac Browning received which allowed her to work with young kids on an Indian reservation will be enough to redeem Fisher thus turning him into a sort of born-again Christian so he won't have to go to prison should those dastardly deeds catch up with him.

This was apparent based on Michael Baldwin's stuttering and stammering Tuesday at Genoa City's God Have Mercy Medical Center where his brother is at long last undergoing psychiatric treatment. Baldwin asked whether Browning was aware of what Kevin did at the RoadKill Cafe that night so long ago before she took it upon herself to convert someone she hardly knows. Browning said she extensively grilled Kevin about his past, and while most of her questions went unanswered, those that were convinced her Kevin is telling the truth. True, Kevin did some awful things for which he has not legally atoned, but like Devon Hamilton because Kevin has had a terrible past this somehow lets him off the hook.

Baldwin thinks that because Browning doesn't know all there is to know about his brother this is a good thing. Had Fisher actually confessed to the attempted murder of Colleen Carlton it would have therefore placed Browning "in the middle" and thusly made her a prime witness for any prosecution still to come.

Even though all charges against Fisher have been dropped, despite there being no pending police investigation, there is apparently some obscure law in Genoa City allowing police to reopen his case on a whim.

After reassuring Fisher that he'll always be there for him and that's why he raced right over to the GHMMC when he heard Kevin was undergoing treatment and please forget all those times he told Kevin to get a freaking life, Baldwin seemed to think that only one "double" session with a shrink would make years of torment at the hand of "Terrible Tom" Fisher - the Ralph Hunnicutt brand of bad fathers - go away.

In fact, Baldwin wanted to know what it felt like being a changed man. Sure, Kevin had been saying how changed he was before seeing the shrink, but how did it really feel? Kevin didn't know for sure. He guessed he was okay. It was nice to talk to someone who really cared, not to mention getting paid $200 per hour to care, Kevin said he might know more when they got home.

So, did Kevin go home? Of course not! He went straight to the one place most likely to wipe out any progress he'd made with the shrink. The Sugar Shack! The place where J.T. Hellstrom, the one person who hates Kevin the most, could have been waiting to scream at, wag his finger and call Kevin a psycho.

Feel that numbness? That strange chill like a cold wind cutting to the bone? Fear not - it's just the dark storm clouds of sadness and savage spiritual pain settling in as Kevin's warped little world prepares to spin out of control just when things were going so badly.

This is not where Kevin gets the girl and they go riding off into the sunset happily ever after. This is like - but not nearly as well written - the Sopranos where Tony goes to the shrink seeking meaning to his gangster life but never changing his evil ways. This is where Kevin catches Mac out on a Valentine's date with J.T., gets all jealous and thus the cycle of hate remains unbroken.

Who's Really Psycho?
A Conversation With Mac Browning

February 7, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

Beyond the point where what does she do for a living - oh, that's right, she's a rich college student who doesn't have to work - Mac Browning took - so desperate for love he wants her to be his Valentine this year - Kevin Fisher away from the Newman Jitter Joint on Monday to see a man about a donkey it could only be imagined how the conversation went.

"Hello? Granny Sterling? Hi, this is your bouncing from the Sugar Shack to the Chancellor mausoleum to the shack again granddaughter. You, know. Mac! No, no. Not McDonald's. Mackenzie! Your granddaughter! Are you still on the sauce, Granny? Didn't you give that stuff up? It's so hard keeping track given how you can be sober for 20 years and then fall into a bottle with little or no reason. By the way, have you heard from my father recently? You do so know. Your son. Brock! Brock Reynolds. Yes, I know it's strange that his name is Reynolds and mine is Browning when my mother's last name is Hunnicutt, but could you humor me for a minute?"

"It's like this, Granny. I've got this friend in crisis. His name is Kevin. Maybe you heard about him? I hear he was public enemy #1 around here for most of 2004. Didn't Lauren Fenmore tell you? Yeah, Kevin! He's the one who tried to kill the Carlton girl. Yes, he gave an STD to the Winters girl and who knows what else. The thing is ... what I'm calling you about is that I've fallen for Kevin. No, no, no. You should know better than anyone, Granny. It doesn't matter that I hardly know Kevin or that he's considered by most to be a psycho. Truth is: I'm hard up. Since Billy Abbott left none of the boys in this town have expressed any interest in me. I was so hoping Billy would teach me about sex, but as you know, he's my cousin."

"Yes, Granny. J.T. Hellstrom may be interested in me but I think he's after Brittany Marsino. Complicating matters the Carlton kid is back so for now J.T.'s pretending not to be interested in her like he once was. I think he's waiting for her to give up so he can focus on Brittany although I wouldn't mind if J.T. would... what? Never mind that. Brittany is married but so was Mrs. Hodges and that didn't stop J.T. from having sex with her mother."

"I was thinking that while all this gets sorted out I could have Kevin. We have so much in common. Kevin hasn't had sex since the Winters kid and I haven't had sex since, well, ever. The problem is Kevin's been a bad boy. He says he's changed and I believe him but to make others believe as I do it's imperative Kevin see a shrink. I called around but all the shrinks are booked so I was wondering: since you own a few wings at the God Have Mercy Medical Center could you pull some strings? You wouldn't have to pull hard. Just call the hospital, tell them it's an emergency and they'll get Kevin in. Yeah, just like that."

"Yes, Granny. I know Kevin's brother has been trying for months to get Kevin to see a shrink, but Mr. Baldwin doesn't have the sexual attraction to Kevin that I do. Kevin is so hot for me he'd eat maggots if I asked him. True, what he did to those other girls was a cry for help. I don't know why it took me to hear his pleas. Maybe it's the work I did on the Indian Reservation. All I know is Kevin needs help. So will you do it? You will? Sure, I'll wait on hold while you make the call."

"Thanks, Granny. I knew I could count on you. Maybe I'll stop by some year to see you again. Sorry I missed Christmas. They'll be others. Oh, that's right. You're living on borrowed time. Speaking of which. Whatever happened to my almost grandpa? Sorry to hear that. Maybe the judge will come back some day. You keep on hoping, Granny. Gotta run now. What?"

"Oh yeah! There's a nice Dr. Woods here right now. She agreed to stay late just to see Kevin. Aren't the doctors in Genoa City great? They make house calls, write illegal prescriptions, violate doctor-patient confidentiality. I love it! Dr. Woods is even going to give Kevin a double. That's two 50-minute sessions back to back. Gotta run now. What?"

"Who's going to pay for this? Let's see. Isn't medical care in Genoa City free? I thought it was. I filled out all the forms for Kevin and didn't see anything about medical insurance. The nice receptionist didn't mention payment so I assumed it's on the house. Look at all the treatment Ashley Carlton got for free. That woman had doctors coming to her home at all hours when she killed her baby. Pretty sure all that breast cancer treatment was free too. Brittany had plastic surgery for free. I can't think of anyone living here who has ever had to pay. For sure, Kevin doesn't have money, a job or health insurance so we can't expect him to pay. Does it matter? If they demand payment I'll just have them send you the bill. Gotta run. Thanks again, Granny. Don't know what I'd do without you. Well, yes I do. Kevin might actually have to wait a week or so before getting an appointment like the peasants. But what fun would that be? Bye, Granny."