Most everyone knew Sheila Carter would find a way to get on the Love
Boat setting sail on the high seas with newlyweds Michael Baldwin
and Lauren Fenmore aboard, but what we didn't know was how, in these
times of high security, in these times when little old ladies must
take their panties off for inspection before being allowed on an
airplane, was how Sheila would pull it off.
And pull it off she did.
Even as Lauren was telling Michael that the money paid to private
detective Paul 'Clueless' Williams to provide the best security
available at her wedding was worth every cent, what was she
thinking? Why didn't she ask her newest husband where the security
and body guards were for the boat? Why weren't Paul and his
hunkmonkey on the boat with those seashell-looking things in their
ears? If Paul couldn't make it due to his trip to Canada, why
couldn't he have assigned J.T. Hellstrom to the task? Surely, if
J.T. needed help he could have enlisted his new pal, Kevin Fisher.
For someone so worried that the evildoers were going to disrupt the
wedding, what was Paul thinking? Did he think just because Jennifer
Mitchell and her sidekick Tom Fisher didn't blow the wedding up that
they'd given up on harming and/or kidnapping Lauren? Did Paul think
that just because he'd heard that Jennifer was going back to Canada
that Tom wouldn't strike on his own or that maybe Jennifer's going
to Canada was a trick? Did Paul, who claims to be the best PI in all
of Genoa City, really take the word of a college kid who apparently
told him of Jennifer's departure? Wouldn't a really experienced PI
have wanted to verify Jennifer's mode of transport out of town
before he, himself left? Wouldn't Paul have had to be extra careful
of being seen since Jennifer had already busted him snooping in her
motel room?
And if, Paul is as smart as he wants everyone to think, wouldn't he
know that Jennifer was on her way to Florida where as Sheila, she
stowaway on the Love Boat? Hell, even old man John 'Yawn' Abbott was
still so worried about Tom still walking the streets he made another
of his let-me-be-your-protector speeches for the benefit of his wife
Gloria and step-son, the boy who attempted to kill his
granddaughter, Kevin Fisher.
The scene on the Love Boat today was simply incredible given all the
fear Lauren and Michael have been through. It's amazing that even
before the wedding they were so at ease knowing a bomb could go off
under them at any moment. During and after the wedding they said
they were aware of, and people around them were shaking and worried
and asking why Clueless Incorporated wasn't fighting "them" over
there instead of having to be constantly on guard for them here, and
yet the moment the wedding was over Michael and Lauren acted like
Jennifer and Tom don't exist.
At the rate this nonsense keeps going and going and Shelia will soon
be showing herself to Lauren right there on the Love Board, what's
truly incredible is that Paul didn't arrange to have an aircraft
carrier sail off the shores of Lake Genoa so that he could declare,
"Mission Accomplished."
Stowaway
December 14, 2005
by Vikki Johns
Do any traveling these days? If you're like the majority of people,
once you get through security at the airport, you're damned
confident. You know there is no way in hell there could ever be a
terrorist on that airplane, the crack-shot TSA is so error-free and
lock-tight in all their procedures.
Then you hop on that cruise boat. You know that all 2,000 passengers
and crew aboard have been meticulously screened by some third-world
security guard with three hours of Pinkerton training who spends a
bit too much time frisking the better-built female guests under the
age of 25.
The average person has no fears of traveling these days. Those who
the blood-spilling terrorists accuse of sinning against their God
with the only appropriate punishment being death are clearly and
completely protected.
Yeah.
We think Osama bin Laden's henchmen hide in stalls at public
restrooms. We think they are under our seats in theatres. We check
the basement at night. Those new people who moved in down the
street? Gosh, their skin is just a shade too dark… and mass transit
in a big city? Well, just stick a gun to your head, that's how good
your chances are. The U.S. is, after all, the next Israel.
So, it begs the question: What in God's name are Lauren, Michael,
and Paul thinking? Well, we know what Paul is thinking: 1 + 1 = 3.
The wedding went well. Everybody got snookered, couple people got
laid, the proper number of boobs were falling out of the 40+ sets'
dresses, John Abbott's incontinence was kept well in check. This is
a successful wedding in Genoa City. No guns were drawn, no one was
kidnapped, murder was not committed. It might even be called a
screaming success. So let's all let our hair extensions and toupees
down and relax.
Then what do we do?
Oh, well, the bride and groom board a private plane. You know the
definition: a projectile loaded with flammable fuel that is about
two chemical equations away from being an outright bomb. The kind of
things used to fly into buildings, blow up, hijack and crash. Did
Paul Williams and his pinheaded accomplice, J.T., even consider
checking this death trap out? Oh, no, the dangerous, land-mine
ridden Colonnade Room festivities were over, and all clear, so all
out.
Next, the bride and groom venture on to a yacht, which is about four
New York seconds more secure than a plane. Probably less, because
the U.S. military can't order fighter jets to shoot it down. Too
bad. Paul and Pinhead, of course, don't think about checking this
out either. There you are, out on the ocean, secluded, alone. It's
about as perfect a place for a murder as Sharon's labia majora is
for genital herpes.
However, on the open sea, the captain is the law officer on board,
charged with the safety and security of his guests. So maybe
Clueless and Pinhead shouldn't be blamed for a lax in ocean
security, but because we want to, lets. And from what is known, this
yacht ain't the Queen Mary… so why wouldn't an extra body be
noticed? Since it wasn't, tell you what: scour the society pages for
the next time some wealthy couple take a honeymoon cruise on a
private yacht, pack up the spouse and your 2.5 kids, and board away.
Stay relatively quiet during the day and try to restrain yourselves
to the lower decks. Raid the pantry at night, and urinate over the
rail. Maybe not a Grade A Vaca, but hey, you can't beat the price.
And you know what the kicker is? Somehow, someway, Paul and Pinhead
will come out the heroes. They'll come dashing in like Dudley
Do-right at the last minute and save the day. Of course, no one will
ever say, how could you let this happen in the first place, Bone
Head? There will be no investigation into the investigators by the
National Board of Investigators. All will just quickly be forgotten,
and Paul and company lauded for saving the lives of Lauren and
Mikey, for which Paul will appropriately be rewarded with a
post-honeymoon Lauren lay.
God, I wish Sheila would blow them all up.
Theatre of the Absurd -Act 181
Red Sails in the Seconal
December 5, 2005
by Brent Kellogg
I gotta wonder: just how big is that concrete box Michael Baldwin
lives in? Is it like one of those two-story penthouse abodes found
at the top of swanky apartment buildings? Is the place so big
strangers can sneak in and not be seen or smelled? If it is,
wouldn't Michael have an alarm system in place to prevent such
things from happening especially when it was thought just a few days
ago that his wife to be was in danger? Wouldn't Michael tell Lauren
Fenmore before leaving her alone in such a huge place not to leave
the windows open or the door unlocked or to at least have the little
switch on most modern windows set so that they can only be opened an
inch, or, if the place is like Grand Central Station, at least use
the little brass chain thingy on the door just to be sure?
Has this fear that Lauren's life is not in danger really passed? Has
the body-guard watching Lauren really been let go? Have the spooks
Paul Williams put outside Baldwin's APTS building all gone?
Apparently. Michael seems satisfied that the necklace that nearly
caused Lauren to jump off a roof, the trinket that went missing and
then was found was never a threat. He seems to have forgotten about
the toxic agent in Lauren's blood that required an expensive
hospital stay. He seems to have written it off as an anomaly like
food poisoning and could have happened to anyone even as Lauren
sniveled and whined she was having nightmares and hallucinating.
Michael would appear not to care about Lauren's security only when
it comes to the wedding he says he's hired a pack of rent-a-cops
undoubtedly from the same company Victor Newman uses to guard the
Ponderosa which never prevented the evildoers from coming and going
as they pleased, except of course, for Brad Carlton.
So which is it? If Baldwin's worried something may happen, why
wouldn't that something still happen at the condom he lives in? Why
did he leave Lauren home alone without telling her to keep the door
and windows locked and look through the peep hole before letting
anyone in? Was it so another failed attempt on Lauren's life could
take place? Does that explain why Lauren didn't smell the chloroform
Tom Fisher was pouring on a towel just before he was interrupted
when everyone and their sister began bucketing through the door? Is
the condom so big none of the arriving well-wishers noticed the
smell either? Wouldn't Ashley Carlton, stopping by to fetch Gloria's
day planner, professional skunk oil sniffer that she is, have
noticed that strange smell in the air?
Are these unbelievable acts of stupidity happening merely because
they can? Does it make perfect sense that Gloria would ever ask
Ashley to get her planner or would leave it by mistake at her son's
place when Gloria herself returned while Ashley was there and did
not ask, "What in the hell are you doing with my day planner. And
no, I didn't forget it." Is Ashley's being there at all make any
sense in that she helped Lauren pick out a bracelet to wear? Do
women, not that Ashley is one, do this? Does not Lauren, like half
this city, despise Ashley and know what a sperm thief she is and
Lauren only invited her to the wedding out of respect for old man
Abbott?
There are so many things that don't make sense, like how Tom got out
of the condom without being seen, they must be written off to what
Sheila Carter said with regard to how she got a key to the place so
that Tom could get in. She has her ways. Period. Accept it. Crap
happens. There's so much crap all over the streets people must
continually scrape it off their shoes. The crap is so bad that
besides stepping in it, Sheila and Tom are dumping it. They took a
major crap this week when Tom returned to the Motor Arms Inn.
Throughout their entire contrived conversation Tom never asked
Sheila about where he was to take Lauren had the kidnapping been
successful. So confused as to what's she's doing, Sheila thought at
first that Tom had dragged Lauren up to her motel room. Not that it
couldn't have happened. Tom could have hauled Lauren through the
lobby and nobody would have thought it strange just like nobody
noticed Cameron Kirsten's frozen body near a dumpster for weeks.
So we
must ask again: what did Tom plan to do with Lauren? Where was he
going to take her? To the farmhouse outside town? Can't be, because
Sheila never told him where it was. She not once told Tom what to do
once he'd taken Lauren hostage and he didn't ask. What? Was he gonna
drive around with Lauren tied to the back of his hog? Did he rent a
car? With what money? Isn't Tom broke? Isn't his trial scheduled for
this week? Did he plan to flip that off? Not meet with his freebie
lawyer? He may as well have, as usual, there was no preliminary
hearing. No such thing in Genoa City. With it's archaic justice
system, defendants here go directly to trial and that's on a good
day. If your name is Izzy Brana Williams or Tricia Dennison McNeil
you go directly to jail never to be seen again. If your name is
Keith Dennison and you've suffered a stroke, you go to the God Have
Mercy Medical Center, slip into a coma and never spoken of again.
And what
if Tom's found guilty? What will Sheila do then? If she plans on
killing Tom she better damn well hurry. If she wants Lauren dead
she'll be needing some seasick pills. The Love Boat is about to set
sail with Michael and Lauren aboard it. And as the boat navigates
into the red sunset we'll be reaching for reds of another color. Not
that we need Seconal for sleep, but to numb the absurdity coming out
of what has become known as the Theatre of the Absurd.
Theatre of the Absurd -Act 180
December 2, 2005
by Brent Kellogg
Then come those times, like when you walk out your front door on a
sunny morning and find that overnight someone spayed a Nazi insignia
on the side of the house. Your heart sinks and your blood boils and
you look around your grungy neighborhood and realize how fed up you
are with life in Genoa City.
That's assuming of course, that you'd actually want to live in this
godforsaken place. I mean, damn. Here I was thinking the
Fenmore/Baldwin wedding wasn't for a week yet and I woke up Friday
to learn today's the big day! Indeed, the bride and broom were
walking on pins and needles. Michael was making big plans. The
moment Lauren says I do she'll be his slave. True, he actually said
this like he said too how he'll always love Lauren, blah, blah, and
we've heard that so many times from so many people we can only laugh
and mark the calendar.
And on this day of days who should blow in first thing like a wave
of nausea and heaving frustration? Who rang the doorbell as Michael
said whoever it was it had better be good and in came his mother
spitting her usual lunacy? What happened when Lauren remembered an
appointment at the hair salon? Michael said forget that. No point in
having Lauren get all stressed out, the hairdresser is coming to
their concrete box.
When the doorbell rang again, Michael had to ask, "Were you
expecting anyone?"
Lauren thought for a moment before saying no and then asked, "I
wonder who it is?"
The reason they didn't go through this rigarmarow the first time was
that, unlike Gloria Abbott, the second guest outside the door was
supposed to be more suspenseful. This is, have we not been told,
drama. It could have been Tom Fisher and then wouldn't Lauren really
be stressed? Wouldn't Gloria have freaked and called Tom a
"dangerous" man?
The woman outside the door was Lauren's mother. JoAnna Manning knew
right away who Michael was and Lauren said how pleased she was that
Mommy had come to witness her wedding unlike others in the past
JoAnna had missed. JoAnna was a little put out. It wasn't like
Lauren had sent her an invite. Lauren snapped back it wasn't like
she knew where to send it and in this day of the Internet where
people can find people easier than Sharon Newman can get a case of
the crabs, wouldn't know how to contact her own mother for Christ's
sake.
From the outset JoAnna took charge. Didn't Lauren know it's bad luck
to have the groom see the bride before they're married? Hadn't
Lauren learned anything from so many previous marriages? And what
about the old, rubber woman in the room? Was she Lauren's
"assistant"? And what of the boy? Would that be Michael's boy toy?
Silly JoAnna, where were her manners. Of course, the boy is the
grandson she's never seen.
As the curtain fell on scene 1 and the ushers rushed to empty the
barf-bags audience members had filled to overflowing, the curtain
opened on scene 2 at the Motor Arms Inn. There, Sheila Carter was
snapping a photograph of the sleeping in her bed Tom Fisher to be
used on the fake passport she'd obtained for Tom on the street
outside. When Tom awoke there arose such a clatter. What passport?
Oh, that's right. He and Sheila or whatever name she's using today
are going to kidnap Lauren and flee to a country where there is no
extradition treaty with the United States.
Only kidnapping is so complex. It is so mind-boggling Tom must go to
his own room so that Sheila will have a chance to tell the audience
that it doesn't matter that Tom's photo looks bad because nobody's
going to see it.
When Tom returns he finds Sheila on the phone. Who was she talking
too? Tom needs to know this. Shelia is pleased to tell him that she
somehow knows Lauren's every move and that today she had an
appointment with the hairdresser. Too bad, though. The appointment
was canceled. It would have been the perfect opportunity for Tom to
snatch Lauren from the parking lot. What about Lauren's body guard
and the "kazoo" of security guarding Lauren? Silly boy. Lauren fears
nothing now. She's dumped all the rent-a-cops. Since the parking lot
is out it means they'll have to grab Lauren right out of the box.
Tom is skeptical. Is Sheila sure about all this? Doesn't matter.
Sheila says she's not worried so why should Tom be? So Tom turns his
attention to the real issue. How much is an old woman like Lauren
worth? About 2 million? Where does he pick up the cash? Sheila
doesn't say, but she's thought far enough ahead to have a numbered
account in an offshore bank near Venezuela. Not as good as the one
Halliburton uses in the Bahamas, but it'll do. Once the money had
been transferred they'll cut Lauren loose and be on their way.
Still, Tom wonders. He's already got drug charges hanging over him.
Add kidnapping and things can get messy. Maybe he shouldn't get
involved. But then, if he doesn't get caught think of all that
money. Tell me more. Well, Tom, do you know how to use chloroform?
It hasn't been used to kidnap anyone since about 1932, but what the
hell. You're right, Sheila. It's a snap. Now how can you be sure
Lauren will be alone? Well, Tom, it's like this. I've thought of
everything. I've got a key to backdoor of that condom Lauren lives
in. You go up the fire stairs, put your cellphone on vibrate and
wait for my call. You got that? Now scram. Times a wasting.
And sure enough, off Tom goes. Dressed as Jennifer, off Sheila goes
to the ColonRoom Restaurant where nobody will ask what she's doing
there, or if they do, she'll have a snappy excuse. What Sheila needs
now to make her plan jell is to know the seating arrangement. A call
to Gloria will result in the old woman rushing right over with
JoAnna in toe like these two have suddenly become stuck like glue.
Next, call Scotty, get him out of the box and the call Tom to tell
him the coast is clear. And sure enough, as luck would have it, as
Tom lets himself into the box Lauren is in the bedroom.
So as the curtain falls on Act 180, and the ushers rush to collect
the re-filled barf-bags, the audience sees Tom pouring the
chloroform on a rag. Will he do it? Will he take Lauren to a remote
farmhouse on the outskirts of the city? Did Sheila tell him where
the farmhouse was or how to get there? More importantly, if Tom
somehow knows where to go, will he find Molly Carter's skeleton?
Only time will tell.
While in Act 178 we saw the worried
about dangerous men become one himself, as the curtain rises on Act
179 we see old-timer John 'Yawn' Abbott telling private detective
Paul 'Clueless' Williams he hopes he doesn't have to use the illegal
handgun Paul gave him. In fact, Yawn says he prays about this. He
asks God not to make him take an eye for an eye but that bastard
Tom Fisher will deserve a bullet should it come to that.
Deep down Paul worries. He knows Yawn is asking for trouble, but
what the hell. Just off stage Ashley Carlton is on her cellphone
with Tom despite the millions of times she's been told to stay away
from, and not have contact with the man. She explains there's simply
no way she can go to the Baldwin/Fenmore wedding with him and
disappointed, Tom hangs up. This worries Ashley. As the curtain
closes, Ashley asserts that now she's certain Tom is "more
dangerous" than ever before.
After barf-bags and hurl pails have been collected from the
audience, emptied and rinsed and returned, the curtain rises on Act
179. We see Tom asking 'Brenda' about her plan which is of such
magnitude as to "blow" him away. But first, Brenda, who's really
Sheila Carter, wants Tom to envision them together on some tropical
island. Tom can already feel the sun scorching his white skin yet he
wonders: who's gonna pay? It can't be Gloria Abbott because he's
sucked all the money from her there is. Unless she's got a pile of
cash tucked away, which might explain how she can afford to live in
a roach motel for weeks on end and seems to have no need for money,
it can't be Brenda. Then again, Tom suspects Brenda could be using
him.
Flicking away the warning signs faster than Brenda can throw them at
him, Tom nevertheless wants to hear more. A kidnapping? Lauren
Fenmore? Ransom her for millions? Oh my! Didn't Brenda want Lauren
dead? "C'mon, Brenda. Are you trying to trick me?" Tom does not ask
exactly, but in the event she's losing Tom like a boy loses his best
puppy, Brenda assures him living high on the hog trumps murder. Only
there's a catch. Tom must do the dirty work. Yes, Tom must carry
with him a sissy-looking satchel Brenda has been keeping in the
closet.
Inside the bag are the tools of Sheila's trade. Duct tape,
chloroform and a video camera on which to capture those Kodak
moments. All Tom must do is kidnap Lauren, take her to a farm house
on the outskirts of town which slightly resembles the one where her
mother was burned to death, and wait while Michael Baldwin gathers
together the ransom money. Once the money is delivered Tom and
Sheila will hop on the next flight out of the country thanks in part
to the always leaving on the hour We Fly You Anywhere Airlines and
fake passports Sheila had the forethought to prepare complete with a
photo of Tom she took when he wasn't looking.
Still, Tom isn't convinced. What about Sheila's, em, Brenda's
writing pal? Can she just walk away from Scotty Grainger? Doesn't
she have a thing for the boy? A book to complete? Alas, before Tom
can get answers to his questions he takes off. So as the curtain
falls on another act inside the Theater of the Absurd and ushers move
into position to collect refilled barf-bags and hurl pails, Sheila
is snarling. She's gonna kill two birds with one stone.
Theatre of the Absurd -Act 178
Divorced from Reality
December
1, 2005
by Brent Kellogg
So I'm checking the mail bag when I come across a letter from a GCN
reader asking how
I do it. How, day after day, do I write about the people and events
in Genoa City? How can I stand it? Doesn't it drive me crazy?
Doesn't it make me question my own sanity? This is not to say that
the reader doesn't appreciate what I do. Like so many other GCN
readers, the writer of the email says if it weren't for the GCN
she'd have to watch over the residents of this Wisconsin town
herself, and that, the reason she stopped watching and took up
reading the GCN, would surely land her in a funny farm somewhere.
The answer is yes. The residents of Genoa City make me question my
sanity. Friends often catch me mumbling to myself about something
that happened, something that was said that had me pulling my hair
out and asking how it could be. For instance, this week I wrote
about Noah Newman's sudden interest in basketball. It was strange
because not too long ago Noah was playing T-ball and overnight it
seemed, he moved to Little League. On the day of Cassie Newman's
funeral, Noah and his father played catch in the backyard. Catch, as
in baseball. So when Daniel Romalotti stopped by the Newman
ponderosa to say he had a basketball magazine for Noah, I blocked it
out. I couldn't imagine. When had Noah ever played basketball? Is he
old enough to play basketball? Isn't he still grieving over his
half-sister's death? Didn't his mother say he was? Whenever the word
basketball came into my mind for the article I wrote baseball. The
article would still read baseball had an alert GCN reader not
snapped me out out of whatever disbelief I was in.
So yes, I am apparently, like you, affected. I am confused. There
are so many things I don't understand. Like how Daniel got to the
ponderosa. I mean, wasn't it a school day? Wasn't Noah on his way to
school that morning? Who makes a one hour trip out of the city
before the start of school? Maybe the use of the word baseball was a
subconscious thing. Maybe what I really wanted to do was to smack
Daniel in the head with a baseball bat for his sudden need to bond
with and suck up to the Newman family when it is Nick Newman who
should be doing the sucking.
Speaking of things that suck, here's another example.
On Wednesday old man John 'Yawn' Abbott demanded Jennifer Mitchell
let him into her motel room. He refused to go away until she did
and wasn't worried that Jennifer would call security and maybe call
the cops and have his ass locked up given his aggressive mental
state. Not worried either that a strange, angry man was outside her
door, Jennifer let him in because Tom Fisher was in there with her,
hiding as she opened the door. Yawn snarled. He hissed. He
ordered Jennifer to revoke
Tom's bail and when she refused threw a tantrum about what a
depraved sociopath Tom is until Tom confronted him. Old, still
nursing a new hip, already having suffered two heart attacks, Yawn
struck out at Tom and the two men exchanged slaps until Jennifer
broke them up. Tom, the younger, physically fit and could blow Yawn
over with his bad breath, again came out on the losing end. Yawn
ran off and straight to the broom closet of private detective Paul
Williams where he asked for a gun.
Concerned suddenly that he needs to "protect" his family, it's Yawn
who has for weeks been saying what a "dangerous" man Tom is. Lying
through his teeth, saying nothing of what he knows of Yawn's
faux-daughter's role in setting Tom up, Paul 'Clueless' Williams said
he'd put a tail on Tom. Not the least bit concerned that Clueless
might charge him $50,000 for this service, Yawn didn't mention
price at all. He wanted a gun.
Crooked as the day is long, Clueless just happens to have an arsenal
at his disposable. He keeps guns stashed at the office and it's highly unlikely his
partners in law approved of such illegalities given how Michael
Baldwin and Christine 'Bug' Blair are such defenders of justice.
Clueless knows that should Yawn get busted
for having an unregistered weapon, the cops will trace it back to
him but nevertheless, without suggesting Yawn cool off and then
purchase a hand gun at the local gun store of which he can take
possession after a 3-day waiting period, and if he can't wait may
purchase a rifle or a shotgun with no waiting period, Clueless gave
Yawn a gun. To slightly cover his ass, Clueless told Yawn to
transfer ownership and implied that his guns are legal.
To top it off, to make the scene even more insidious and beyond
belief, Clueless told Yawn to be careful because the gun was loaded!
Yawn, for the first time anyone can recall, said not to worry
because he was once a Marine. Yawn knows guns. Probably killed
himself a bunch of 'Krauts' in WW1 too.
So, you see? Now the man whining endlessly about what a dangerous
man Tom is, the man who claims to be so law abiding and finds
criminal actively horrid, becomes himself a dangerous man. That the
gun will go off accidentally and kill Yawn, or better yet Ashley,
would be a welcome sight to
my sunken eyes but it would be asking too much. Word has been on the
street for some time that Tom is about to meet his maker, so maybe
Yawn gets to kill him; with an unregistered gun; with no fear of
repercussion. Because he took a predator out, because the
determination as to who gets to walk the streets of Genoa City is
his whenever Clueless, or a pack of pitchfork-wielding teens, aren't
making such decisions, Yawn will be hailed a hero.
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