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News Archives - Amber Moore Ashby
See also: Crime  Cane Ashby  Gloria Abbott  Kevin Fisher  Daniel Romalotti

Fire in the Hole!

September 14, 2007
by the Night Watchman  

There I was today, enjoying a nice meal at the Athletic Supporter Club on my day off when this swishy-looking character comes over wanting to see my membership card. "Card? Membership? When have you ever asked to see membership around here? Has the place become a haven for terrorists?" I sneered.

"Listen mister, I'm just doing my job. The boss lady wants customers she doesn't see every day checked for ID. Look, you didn't hear this from me, but yeah, the place is crawling with criminals. If you think that's bad, go upstairs; pimps and whores in almost every room. You know Nikki Newman? She's up there doing the campaign manager guy, what's his name. Chow. David Chow. The daughter is over there. Pregnant belly and all. Now how 'bout that membership card?"

Fumbling with my wallet, I pretend to be looking for proof of membership when my phone rings. It's Brent Kellogg from this here fine publication, for which I sometimes write a column, wanting me to cover a meeting he's heard will take place between the great Victor Newman and his adult children right here at this very establishment.

"Why do I keep getting the crap assignments," I grouse, using a synonym for the word crap I know will get censored if I use it here. Kellogg tells me it's just a coincidence, but I know better. Anything the Newmans say at a restaurant is bound to be boring, Brent knows it, but it's a slow news day and a Friday to boot. I suspect Brent wants to get his weekend started early, and since I'm already at the club I tell him I'll do it, but not to expect a Peabody award story.

Closing the phone, I notice swish boy is still waiting when he leans over and puts his face so close to my ear I think he might stick his tongue in it.

"You work for Brent?" he whispers. I wheeze yes, and he says not only don't I need a card, he can move me to a table right next to the Newmans! Taking my new seat, I'm starting to wonder about Brent and the swishy one when I see Amber Moore coming down the stairs on her way out the door.

The temptation to follow her was belayed when I heard Victor Newman grunting about his wife not showing up for the meeting, that she'd taken up with that "disgusting excuse" for a man [Chow], and that he didn't see the affair ending any time soon. Furthermore, if his children think he's going to run after her, they can forget it and stop worrying about his health too because as the global business leader he is, stress comes with the territory.

Thinking the children meant that Newman could have an epileptic relapse, I knew I had my headline. Moving hurriedly toward the exit, swishy boy appeared within my myopic line of sight. Jamming the check into his pocket, I gave him a pat on the ass at the same time and got the expected response. "Don't worry, I'll take care of the check. Tell Brent I said hello."

Outside there was no doubt as to where I'd find Ms. Moore. Walking into the Jitter Joint I saw right away she was using the computer. Passing her on my way to order a muffin, I glanced at the monitor and saw she was looking up where to buy shredded currency. Paying for the muffin, I turned and Moore was going out the door. Following her to a coin and stamp shop down the street was easy. I hid behind a potted plant as she purchased a 5-pound bag of shredded money and then followed her back to the club. I couldn't very well follow her up the stairs without being seen, so I waited at the bar and noticed the Newmans were still where I'd left them. A few minutes later all hell broke out when fire bells started ringing and people began running for their lives.

"Where's the fire," I asked no one in particular, hard-pressed to see more than a few wisps of smoke coming from the air vents. "Why are these people screaming?" I was going to ask when I saw Newman looking as if he'd seen a ghost as his wife and Chow came into view. That's when I knew I had my headline: Fire in the hole!

Dorks Closer to Freedom

September 13, 2007
by Brent Kellogg 

As time drags on and the Dorks of Doom have yet to be given a preliminary hearing, it would appear the District Attorney's Office has nothing to connect Amber Moore, Daniel Romalotti and DOD ringleader, Kevin Fisher with government money they stole from dead man Plum Garrett. Even though the trio has been charged in the case, all three remain free on bail, two of them freely committing other crimes, and one threatening to flee the jurisdiction should there be so much as a hint that he'll be sent to prison.

Her plea bargain offer - for Moore to rat the other two out - rejected, ADA Heather Stevens is allowing the case to stall on the assumption that if given enough time the defendants will return the money and all charges will be dropped. With Garrett's killer never identified, with a man named Bonercheck posing as a treasury agent never detained and neither being sought, with no next of kin from Barrett's family demanding justice, or so much as coming to get his body, Stevens has no incentive to solve these crimes. She couldn't move fast enough to put emotional blackmailer Phyllis Newman behind bars for six years, yet she's willing to plead out three slam-dunk convictions that would look very good on her résumé.

To accomplish the goal of letting three defendants with blood on their hands go free, Stevens reportedly will meet Friday with defense attorney Michael Baldwin who, to hear him blather, thinks his clients need only repay the money and that will be the end of their legal problems.

Meanwhile, as suspect Moore, with no means of support, books the very same room in which industrialist Kim Chee was found dead, and told police she suspected Chee of stealing the money she stole, neither Stevens nor dirty cop Maggie Sullivan would appear to have any interest in what their subprime suspect is doing, or why Athletic Supporter Motel management allowed Moore to stay in a room a person had died in only days earlier and that of the man whose body Moore was found standing over.

And as she worries that partners in crime Romalotti and Fisher may burn her ass, Moore keeps from them the fact she has her hands on the money again that could free them, and refused today to take a loan from Fisher's mother even though she'd earlier told her alter-ego that if she turns the stolen money in people will see her as a good person and she might even get her husband back.

Herself a criminal whose case stalled out long ago, Mrs. Gloria Bardwell may get a chance at redemption too now that she suspects Moore of scamming everyone. Having no qualms about entering a room where the smell of death still lingers in the air, Bardwell stopped by the AC Motel today to give Moore as an outright gift the money she needs to repay the government.

A very devious woman, it could be Mrs. Bardwell who single-handedly brings Moore to justice so long as Moore doesn't do something stupid, like burn the stolen money.

CSI Team Overlooked Missing Money!

September 12, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

"How do they do it?"

That's a question often asked in Genoa City and nobody seems to know; they just do, so deal with it. Stop asking so many questions. Don't ask how Amber Moore, known to be practically homeless and broke, can call the Athletic Supporter Motel and book a room. Of course it could be that whoever took the call knows Moore is a tramp and could be using some man's credit card. So long as the card is good, why should the AC care where she got the money. Then again, Moore could have said the room was for no longer broke Daniel Romalotti and this explains how Daniel got a room.

There is apparently no bellhop service at the AC as Daniel wasn't shown to his room. He went upstairs alone, and without worry that there are security cameras everywhere, let himself into the room once occupied by the now very dead Mr. Kim Chee presumably by using the never discovered missing keycard taken from a maid by light fingers Carson McDonald.

The plan to return to the scene of the crime was hatched when Romalotti deduced that since Moore had told him the serial number on a $100 bill given her by Mr. Chee matched that of the money they'd stolen weeks ago, odds were good Chee had the remainder of the money in his room.

As for the fact that a CSI team had already scoured the room for evidence, and if the money was there the cops would have found it, Romalotti told Moore that in a rush the cops probably didn't search the room that good.

After poking around for awhile, and finding nothing, Romalotti received a phone call from Moore asking how things were going. Told he hadn't found anything, Moore joined him in the room. Had Romalotti checked the air vent? No.

A screwdriver looking like the one Chee had used before his death still laying around, Moore removed the air vent grill, stuck her arm inside and lo, the bag of money was still there! Oh happy day, and not much more than an hour ago Moore had been whining that she never catches a break.

In a related development, Moore's former husband, Cane Ashby was also at the AC today meeting with hasn't been seen in weeks, make-believe private investigator/hunkmonkey, J.T. Hellstrom. Seems there are more problems at the Clear Springs construction project of which Ashby is in charge. Building supplies are growing legs and walking off the site in leaps and bounds. Suspecting an inside job, and with a shortage of PIs available locally, Ashby had no choice but to contact Hellstrom. Could he handle the case? It won't be easy. The hunkmonkey will have to go undercover, pretending to be a construction worker!

Pretty much admitting that he's not his own man, Hellstrom said taking the assignment would require a leave of absence from his job, that he'd have to check with the boss man, Paul Williams, and that he'd get back to Ashby.

Money, Thief, Credibility Missing

July 27, 2007
by Brent Kellogg 

What was she thinking? That's the question I was waiting with baited bad breath to find the answer to today after learning, as I'd suspected even before I knew, that Amber 'Squeaky' Ashby faked her own kidnapping. Yes, I understand that Kevin Fisher said she done it to "trick" him, but Christ, other than tricking Daniel Romalotti, Cane Ashby and who knows how many other men, what was the trick?

"Man, this is gonna be good," I told my dog as Lucky looked at me as if to say, "Don't you have better things to do? Like take me for a walk?"

"But Lucky, this is more important! This is the last article I'll write for the GCN today before the weekend and it's got to be good; the punch line, that is."

You see? Amber's husband has just figured out that his marriage is a fake. When a hotel where he and his lovely bride apparently consummated their wedding vows laughed when he asked it to provide him with hotel lobby surveillance video, so that he could see who charged the room to his credit card, Cane called a liquor store and got it to show him the video via his Internet connection. Don't laugh, this happens all the time.

No, no, not the part when the man says regardless of his woman having lied to him more times than Alberto Gonzales has lied to the Congress that he still loves her, the part where you charged an ice-cream cone at Baskins and Robbins and not believing you could do such a stupid thing, you called B&R and asked them to show you the video of actually making the purchase and they did! You saw with your own eyes the betrayal and shock and - awe, who are we kidding? Of course this is a joke meant for the sheepish believers.

It is the understanding that Joe Stupid, AKA Kevin, can turn on his never needs charging laptop and with the tap of a few keys find your criminal history. It is the magic computer that can take your pulse and blood pressure, knows what you ate for lunch and the last time you took a pee. It is the knowledge that Amber could leave Kevin a note saying she'd been kidnapped and he not recognize her all-in-caps screaming penmanship. Amber wanted to trick Kevin because, I'm guessing, Cane, for as much as he loves her, hates her more and she figured since her marriage is over and she'll probably lose all that Chancellor money, the buku bucks she helped Kevin steal will be taken away from her too and so there's only one thing to do - kidnap herself! That'll make Kevin sorry he did, um, what was it again he did?

Doesn't matter. Kevin's probably to blame for tricking Cane into a fake marriage and so it's only fair that Amber trick Kevin in return as it's always some other person's fault for what these dorks do. Near as I can figure out, although Cane said today he's sure Amber's faking it, nobody asked why he'd think that except that Kevin said, yeah, if she faked a marriage she's capable of faking a kidnapping.

And lo but what Kevin and sissy boy Daniel told Cane about the money thus compounding their crimes and off they went with Kevin waving his big gun, in search of Amber and you gotta wonder, don't you? How is it Kevin got to keep his gun? Maggie the dirty cop didn't find it during the Jana Hawkes capture? The gun wasn't confiscated, or Kevin asked if he has a license to carry a concealed weapon? How does the below-average person go about looking for a missing person anyway? Check the popular abandoned warehouse where most kidnap victims are held? Was Amber able to tie herself up? And what of the money? Did she take it with her, bury it somewhere else, because guess what - it's missing too!

Pee In a Bottle

May 29, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

And then, even though you honestly swear you're not really paying attention because you're much hipper and smarter and you have better things to do, like snorting lighter fluid, damn but what Extreme Cat Pee comes to Genoa City. You think, well, one day of this I might tolerate, but two? Three? Five?

Yup, Extreme Cat Pee will drag on for days culminating with the semi-related marriage of Wilma Bardwell and Gloria Abbott on Friday. Knowing as Wilma should, that Gloria killed Emma Gibson and is guilty of drugging people and other crimes, you'd think he'd know better. You'd think Wilma would want to protect his good name insomuch as he can't his poor conviction record and criminal investigation skills. You would hope that Wilma takes legal measures before the marriage to assure Gloria can't get her hooks into his fortune and that should the marriage go south, as if it's like most marriages in this city it will, Gloria will end up with nothing as she did following John Abbott's death which is not to say the old man really died, Abbott simply went to Heaven where's he's free to travel back and forth delivering messages from the dead Cassie Newman.

So, what is the point of ECP coming to Genoa City after being in the works for nearly a year? Besides that Gloria will be a judge, that police detective Maggie Sullivan will guard the "celebrities" and that Amber Ashby will get to strut her stuff and showoff her line of designer wear, and who knew she had designs on anything other than Cane Ashby and Daniel Romalotti and the Chancellor fortune, there doesn't seem to be one.

Maybe you can, but I can't imagine anyone turning into this episode of ECP and knowing who these women are. It's not like Gloria and Amber are vacuous female finalists on that noxious "American Idol" reality show. Outside Genoa City, aren't Gloria and Amber relative unknowns? Will exposing them to the nation make pop-media life worth living? Is this what it's all about, though of course ECP pretends to be about something else, will this be the turning point when the culture hits its ass-slapping all-American dumbed-down finest?

Of course who wouldn't want to know, for example, that Gloria loves turning on people with her drugs and killing rich women like Emma? Or that Amber is into hardcore German-dwarf erotica and young boys named Daniel easily addicted to smut for which Amber must be busted by what were once known as Charlie's Angels, Lily Romalotti and Colleen Carlton? Who can't see the day coming when Lily will forgive Daniel for his addictive ways because, like Jack Abbott make Kim Chee break the law, Amber made Daniel do what he did?

You see? What's so fascinating about this tabloid sensationalist baby food, what is so telling, is not necessarily the giggly guilty thrill we get at peeking at someone else's perversions; rather, it's about how most of us can, with few exceptions, thoroughly relate and connect such casual smirking depravity.

Deny all you want, but deep down, when you see Amber slithering down the walk, when the cats spray her with pee, you'll be wishing it was you on that walk. You'll want all of America to see how addictive and deeply satisfying such kinks and twists and subliminal interests, appeals straight to that wish-we-could-be-someone-else persona in ourselves. Why can't we get to indulge in such delightful perversions on a day-to-day basis?

What is your fetish? What could some clever website dig up on you were they to poke around a bit? What sort of depravity do you indulge, in your own life, in your own home, with the shades drawn and while the hubby is at his mother's or the kids are away at rehab?

Oh good, you say to yourself, as you try not to watch the damnable show but you just can't help it and oops there goes your brain, Amber's just as weird and fetishy and innocently kinky and subversive and strange as most everyone with a pulse. In a pinch, if there's no alternative, she'll pee in a bottle. Now, that's reality.

Better Than Drinking Poison

April 12, 2007
by Brent Kellogg

The Don Imus controversy has spread to Genoa City! Or at least one like it. Who knew that Amber Moore would run her mouth to the Press and tell it all about who bartender Cane Ashby really is? Who but Amber would say she thought her comments would be "off the record" when a child of four knows better? Why exactly would the Press have any inclination that anything about a bartender would be news? Because that's what media whores do these days. They dredge up all the news that's unfit and that no intelligent person would give a rat's ass about. Now that the Press knows the real Phillip Chancellor III isn't dead, will it investigate who did die? Not bloody likely.

So what did Jill Abbott and Katherine Sterling do when they read the news? Katherine asked the proverbial question, "What was Amber thinking?" with Jill providing the proverbial answer, "She wasn't thinking." Then it was on to "damage control." Oh Lord, imagine the extra security Katherine will have to employ at the Chancellor Mausoleum. Imagine Athletic Supporter Club manager Gina Roma having to squawk at the reporters hounding her valued patrons. Picture attorney Michael Baldwin having a sit-down with the injured parties and telling Amber that next time she should say "no comment" when the Press pesters her. Oh, there's gonna be a next time.

There's got to be a next time because the skeletons are coming out of the closet. Evil things are in Cane's and Amber's past and Baldwin wants to know what they are like he wants to know what Jill's and Katherine's are as if he didn't know about the old ladies. As always, the mere mention of speaking the truth scares the bejesus out of these people. Amber's freaked someone will learn of her website like nobody's ever seen it before. Quick! Got to delete it! Can't do it alone though; much too complicated. Only one thing to do: Ask porn addict Daniel Romalotti if he'll let her use his computer from which to delete it. Ah, so much easier because the actual site isn't being deleted, her account is. The site is still there, but that's okay too because Daniel promises he won't look at it again. And if you believe that you'll believe Neil Winters won't have another drink.

Now what about that flash drive Daniel purchased a few days ago on which to store his porn? Can't he keep it under the mattress like everyone else? Apparently not. Apparently somewhere along the line he gathered so much smut he had to get another flash drive and guess where that one is? On his keychain! Guess where that is? In Devon Hamilton's hot little hands!

Christ, the way these people went into a panic you'd think a congressional subcommittee was looking into when the President broke the law. Things got so convoluted Baldwin had to split the parties up and took old lady Katherine's side when Jill launched another rhetorical fit. The Press would have hounded Jill regardless of whether Katherine was prosecuted for kidnapping which she wasn't days ago. And only now the Press may get wind of this? Plus, and so much better, if Katherine's dirty secret gets out, Jill's 30-year-old affair with Phillip Chancellor II will get out too!

I'd ask, "Is this the dumbest thing you ever did hear?" except I know it isn't. There's always something to trump the last dumbest thing you ever did hear. An affair of thirty years ago? Is this Anna Nicole Smith? Who cares? Well, Jill cares. She needed another reason to blame Katherine for stealing her baby and yet the dumb bitch continues hanging around and living with the old hag.

Then it was Cane's turn to speak with Baldwin alone. Cough it up, Cane. What's in your wallet? I mean, closet. An arrest for being drunk and disorderly? No big deal? What else? Over staying your visa? Naughty boy, didn't Katherine say she could fix that? If you were born in Genoa City, and you were, aren't you an American citizen? Guess not. So what else? Fake documents so that you could work as a bartender? Didn't your employers run a background check? Guess, not. It's only standard practice these days that all potential employees undergo a background check. Oops, silly me. This is Genoa City! We don't do no stinking background checks. Just ask Nick and Sharon Newman!

Okay, Amber. What's your story? You've haven't been a good person? I am truly shocked. Didn't I read that you gave a kidney to someone? My, my. Small world. I did too. You got pregnant and your son died at birth? What's the problem? That happens here all the time. Your cousin gave birth on the same day? How coincidental. Go on. Your cousin didn't want the baby so you raised it? Is there a problem? Isn't that why we're going through this rigaramo? Didn't Jill raise another woman's baby? Oh, the baby was taken away from you? Yeah, that's serious, but guess what? Phyllis Summers had her baby taken away from her too! You may have heard of the boy. Does the name Daniel Romalotti mean anything to you? So tell me, Amber, if that's your real name, have you told Cane? Why not? Because he'll hate you and might leave you and you hate yourself? Then why did you talk to the Press? Damn, you are one dumb bitch.

So why did any of these nitwits spill their guts to Baldwin? Because Amber messed her pants? Because it was better than drinking poison.

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