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Date: 21 Aug 1997 23:58:57 -0400
From: pitman@anotherwayout.com (Kent M Pitman)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.tv.soaps.cbs
Subject: Y&R: AWO#59: "Honey Laundering"
Message-ID: <sfwpvr63m2m.fsf@world.std.com>
INSIDE... * Cassie finds Grace and Nick's dirty laundry.
* Grace offers Newman Enterprise competitors a honey of a deal.
* Diane threatens to take Victor to the cleaners for harassment.
* Grace tricks Cole into dirtying the sheets with her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ANOTHER WAY OUT, Episode 59, 22-Aug-97 by Kent Pitman (kmp@harlequin.com)
"Honey Laundering"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sharon enters her living room to find Cassie holding an armload of sheets.
"I'm confused," says Cassie. "Where are the washing machines?" "There aren't
any washing machines, Honey," Sharon explains. "But how do the clothes get
clean?" Cassie asks. "Well, Miguel does them." "Wow!" says Cassie, her eyes
widening. "That's REALLY nice of him." "Oh, he's not just doing it to be
nice, Sweetie. It's his job. I'm sure he's paid well for it." "You mean you
don't pay him yourself?" "Nope. But I'm sure somebody does. When you're
rich, you learn not to ask too many questions." Cassie becomes very silent.
"Cassie, are you ok?" Sharon finally asks. "I was pretending that I was rich
and had learned not to ask too many questions." Sharon laughs. "Oh, I didn't
mean you, Cassie. Even if YOU get rich, you can still ask lots of questions.
Little girls have to ask questions or they won't learn things." Cassie looks
suddenly very relieved.
"So what IS that bundle of sheets in your arms?" Sharon asks. "Just some
sheets that need washing. But don't worry. I'll be happy to wash them.
Millie taught me how. And I don't want to be any trouble." "Well, that's
very nice of you Cassie, and it was nice of Millie to show you how, but sheets
only have to be washed when they've been used." "That's why I'm washing
them--they're all yucky and smelly. I don't think Grace remembered to wash
them when she and Nicholas used them. So I decided I'd better," Cassie says.
"Grace and Nicholas used them? You must be mistaken." "No, I don't think so.
They've been talking about whether to `air their dirty laundry' for weeks.
Nicholas keeps saying he should tell you. And then Grace always says `no'. I
guess they don't want to be any trouble either." Sharon looks puzzled.
"Their dirty laundry?" Cassie holds up the sheets. "These sheets, I guess.
They keep talking about how messy things have gotten. And Grace always tells
Nicholas that you don't need to know. I guess she feels very bad and was
going to come wash them herself." Cassie stops for a moment while Sharon
digests all of this, then continues. "I keep trying to get her to come visit
so we can clean up but she never does. But now I'm here, so I figured *I*
should wash them. Then I could tell her it's not messy any more. And maybe
Nick and Grace could stop fighting." She looks up at Sharon for approval.
Sharon is lost in thought but strokes Cassie's head absent-mindedly. "Nick
and Grace--you're sure?" "Yes, I am. Very sure. But I think they're
embarrassed. So don't tell them I told you. Nicholas is always saying it was
an accident." "An accident?" She nods. "I have accidents sometimes, too,
and it messes up the sheets. So I know how he feels. That's why Millie
showed me how to wash things after."
"Cassie, why don't you let me give that laundry to Miguel to do." "Ok, if
you're sure it wouldn't be any trouble." "Don't worry. Miguel is Hispanic.
Of course he wouldn't mind." Cassie hands her the bag of laundry and goes
back upstairs. Nick enters just as Sharon is leaving to find Miguel.
"Nicholas!" she says with a slight bit of surprise. She holds up the
laundry. "What's this?" he asks. "The sheets from Noah's room. Cassie told
me about you and Grace." Nick blushes and looks very flustered. "Cassie?
She wasn't even there the night--well, nothing happened really--I mean,
nothing intentional. It was just a big accident." Sharon raises one eyebrow
and looks both angry and skeptical. He continues to flounder. "You remember
I'd been out drinking. And I came home, and I was saying good night to Noah,
and I turned, and--tripped and fell into the bed where Grace was sleeping.
Well, I'd really had a LOT to drink and I kinda peed in my pants. Well, I
THINK it was pee... and it was PROBABLY my pants... but whatever I did, I mean
IF I did, it wasn't intentional and it didn't MEAN anything. And Grace--she
was there when I came... in... when I came in.... when I came into the room, I
mean.... and she didn't know what to do. And I didn't even know what I'd done
until I went upstairs and tried to do it again with you after I'd bathed. I
mean, I didn't know it was `again' because I didn't know what happened the
first time. But when I couldn't do it again, I guessed I must have, uh, look
I'll go find Miguel and get these sheets washed and you--uh..."
"I'll be packing!" Sharon says as Nick starts to leave. He stops and turns to
her. "Packing?" "Nicholas, I'm just not sure I can do this!" "But I didn't
mean anything, really--" "It's not that, Nicholas." "What then?" "Nicholas,
if it ever came to light that my husband had accidentally..." She pauses.
Then she continues, seemingly omitting something. "... with my best friend...
I'd be too embarrassed." "About the infidelity...?" "No, Nicholas, about how
stupid you are. I try to ignore it when it happens in the privacy of our own
home, and to help you hide it in public, but ..." "It's a lot of strain,"
says Nicholas. She nods. He says, "Well, I'll go wash the sheets anyway.
That way if Cassie wants to stay in there with Noah." "Nicholas!" she yells.
"I am NOT going to let Cassie stay there with you in the house and risk--ohhh,
I can't even say it!" She shudders at the thought, grabs the laundry, and
huffs up the stairs as Nicholas says, "But it was an accident--it could happen
to anyone." "That's what I'm afraid of," Sharon says as she disappears out of
sight.
Grace's office is now populated with file cabinets, tables covered with stack
trays, papers, packages ready for mailing and several fax machines busily
faxing. She sits at her desk when Nicholas enters. "Grace, we have to talk,"
he says. Grace's phone rings and she raises a finger in a "just a sec"
gesture to Nick as she takes the call. "Grace Turner," she says with a
professional tone. As she speaks she stands and moves to one of the FAX
machines as if to check something. "It should be coming through now," she
says. "Oh, it's a pleasure--glad to be of help, Mr. Barrington." As she
hangs up, Nick says, "Mr. Barrington? From Barrington Marketing and
Advertising in Seattle?" She nods. "What a nice man--he just wanted a few
reports faxed over." Nicholas looks disturbed. "He asks and you just sent
them over? Just like that?" "Nooo--Nicholas. You think I'm so dumb, don't
you? He's paying for it--and not just for the paper either. I'm charging an
extra DOLLAR a page. I figure, someone must have typed these things, and I
want to make SURE that was money well spent. And it's not just him--once he
told his friends how helpful I'd been, they're all calling. And they're so
appreciative. I can't believe how many people want copies of these dumb old
reports. Sometimes it's even a report on themselves; like if I wanted a
report on myself I would ask someone else--geez. How dumb can you get.
But... if they want to pay, I'm ready to collect." Nicholas looks around
speechless. Finally he says, "You're just doing all this to show me up in
front of my Dad, aren't you? I can't believe you thought this up. Dad really
wanted to make Mr. Barrington pay for something he did earlier this year, and
here you've got it all arranged..."
"Is that what you came over here to talk about, Nicholas? How much better I'm
doing at Newman Enterprises than you ever did?" "No, Grace, it's not that.
It's Sharon. She knows." "About....?" "About how stupid I am, ok? Cassie
apparently told her." "Cassie? Wow she's a lot more observant than I
thought--I better cut back on the brain food for her; from now on, no more
pizza. Just chocolate donuts." "It doesn't matter. Sharon already knows.
And she's gone." "Gone?" "Yeah, gone. She said she couldn't take it any
more." "What? What couldn't she take?" "Me. My brain. My stupidity--how
should I know? If I knew, she probably wouldn't have left me." "Good point,"
Grace agrees. "Well, I guess that leaves the coast clear for you and me,
doesn't it?" Grace asks optimistically. Nick suddenly laughs. "Thanks,
Grace. You really know how to put things into perspective, don't you?"
"Huh?" Grace asks. "Well, here I am thinking I'm the dumbest person in the
whole world for what I did to Sharon, and then you come along and remind me
that I'm not ... by suggesting there's any hope for me and you. Grace, if you
can believe that, then you're not nearly as smart as this office makes you
look!"
Diane is in bed, tossing and turning and moaning. Jack shakes her, "Diane...?"
She looks up sleepily. "Jack?" she says, confused. He nods. "Of course
it's me, sugar. You were expecting maybe Victor Newman?" Diane looks
embarrassed. "Well, sort of." Jack looks surprised. "Really? Do tell..."
"Well, I was having the strangest dream--it was very confusing and I just
felt completely out of control. Nothing made sense but I couldn't figure out
why." "What happened in it?" "Well, to put it bluntly, Victor tried to buy
me." "To buy you? You mean like you were a slave?" "No, that was the awful
part. He kept saying I was doing things of my own free will. And there I was,
seeming to back up his story. Following him around like a little puppy dog
while he took me on trips and bought me gifts and finally proposed to me."
Jack looks at Diane in surprise about the proposal. "El mustachio proposed to
you? You said no, I hope," Jack chuckles. "No, Jack, I didn't. I said
'yes'!" "Doesn't sound like a dream to me--sounds more like a nightmare. No
wonder you were moaning and groaning before I woke you." "Oh, Jack, you woke
me up just in time, it was all so weird. The timeline didn't make any sense.
First he flew me to Nevada where some guy who looked like Jed Clampett--you
remember, from the Beverly Hillbillies--married us. Then suddenly we were in
Greece--well, it didn't look like Greece, but everyone kept saying it was.
You know how dreams can be."
Diane goes on with her story. "Anyway, they put me in a chair where I felt
like my wrists were held by chains. I had to watch him ogle bellydancers, and
then when he was all `ready' he came to me and said `Mrs. Newman--'" "He
didn't even call you Diane?" "No, he never called me Diane--only Diane
Jenkins or Miss Jenkins or, eventually Mrs. Newman." "I guess it's easier
for him that way," Jack says. "Keeps him from getting confused." "Confused?"
"The Black Night has been through more wives than hostile takeovers... no,
scratch that, he's been through more wives than OTHER hostile takeovers. It's
a routine practice for him. He probably calls all his wives Mrs. Newman so he
doesn't slip and accidentally call you Hope or Nikki or Ashley or Leanna or
Ju--" "It's all right, Jack. I get the idea. Anyway, he was about to make me
consumate it and I was trying desperately to get away and ...." Jack holds
her and strokes her hair. "There, there... it was just a bad, bad dream.
You're back with old smilin' Jack now." "Oh, Jack, ... Jack... I'm so glad.
It was like being stuck on a really, really bad soap opera and being forced to
read a bunch of lines you know your character would never say." Jack consoles
her, "Well, cheer up, sugar. It doesn't sound like a recipe for Daytime Emmy
to me--good thing it was just a dream."
The phone rings. Diane and Jack look at each other and then at the clock.
"2am? Who could that be?" She grabs it and answers. "Diane Abbot," she says.
"This is Victor Newman--I'd like to look at the plans for my new building?"
"Victor--there are no new plans. The old ones worked fine, and I'm really
tired of changing them. If you think you can find some other architect that
will put up with you constantly changing the plans every time they have a
dinner date, and with you calling them at home at this hour for no good
reason--well, you go ahead hire them. Otherwise, I'll see you at my place of
business later where we will do business and business only. No funny
business--not unless you want to be slapped hard with a sexual harassment
suit, that is--just architecture. Good bye, Victor." She hangs up.
It's still very late at night and Grace is walking the grounds of the ranch by
herself. She peers in the window and is happy to see Nick awake and alone.
She knocks lightly on the door. Nick gets up and answers it. "Hi!"
Grace says as if nothing had happened earlier. "Is Sharon here?" Nick glares
at her. "You know she's not." "Oh," Grace says, faking surprise not very
well. "I thought she might have come back. Can I come in?" "No, you CANNOT
come in!" Nick says. "Grace, I don't know what planet you're from, but I
think it's time for you to have them beam you back up. You don't fit in
around here. Just get the hell out, ok?" He slams the door in her face.
Grace sighs and sits on the porch chair for a moment. Then suddenly, we feel
as if a lightbulb has come on in her head and she gets up and tiptoes over to
the Tack Estate. When no one answers the door, she pushes it open and goes in
muttering "Doesn't anyone lock their doors around here? Well, with Victoria
away on that business trip, he probably doesn't want to miss out on any other
options."
A few minutes later, Cole gets out of Ashley's car at the Newman Ranch. "Are
you sure you won't come in?" Cole asks. "My wife's out of town for another
week and..." Ashley wrinkles up her nose and says, "I'd better not. Safer
that way." "Yeah," Cole says, slightly disappointed. "Guess you're right..."
And he walks down the trail to the Tack Estate. Inside, he doesn't even turn
on the lights--the moonlight through the windows is enough for him to see as
he strips down and prepares to retire. As he starts to enter his bed, he
freezes, realizing there's a form under his covers. He shakes his head and
reaches into his bedside for protection... pushing aside a box of condoms, he
finds the pistol he put there months ago. Then, remembering it was Victoria
who last handled the gun and whose fingerprints are probably still on it, he
goes back to the box of condoms and opens a couple of packets, constructing a
crude glove so that he can handle the gun without disturbing the prints. The
body under the covers remains motionless, pretending to be asleep. The gun
discharges. The body under the covers continues motionless, this time because
she is dead. Cole mutters, "If there's one thing I hate in a story, it's a
damned cliche'."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright 1997 Kent M. Pitman. All Rights Reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Another Way Out" takes plotline state at time of publication and shows that
there are interesting places right around the corner. The goal, besides
having some fun with good-natured parody, is to challenge the notion that we
must be mired in certain tired plotlines for months just to have a good time.
There is always another way out...
Archives of this and older episodes of "Another Way Out"
as well as the more serious "morals" that underly them,
can be found at: http://world.std.com/~pitman/awo/index.html
Don't forget to try the "character index" and "ratings index"!