MARC'S MAY ROTSOAPS STORY--Completed May 14, 1996 Hey, everyone! I'll be telling this story (which takes place in present-day GL continuity) in two straight acts this time, people; here's the first act! Enjoy! (As usual, all the characters and situations in this story are copyrights of Procter & Gamble.) STARTING OVER AGAIN (Part 1) by MarcEditor@aol.com ACT ONE SCENE: The Springfield Journal. Fletcher is typing furiously on his keyboard, voicing the words as he types them. FLETCHER: ...and until such a day comes, I will hold an extremely dim view of my fellow man. (pauses, holds down the delete key) ...comes, we should all look at each other with contempt. (stares at screen) No, disappointment. (banging his desk) DAMMIT!! SAMANTHA (holding a folder, approaching his desk): What's wrong, Fletcher? FLETCH (turning around in his chair): Oh, hey, Sam. It's nothing...I'm just struggling with this editorial. Its closing, actually. SAM (glimpses at screen): What's it about? FLETCH (smiles): Hey, hey--you're only an intern here--you're not supposed to find out what's in my editorials before I finish *writing* the darn things. (Sam fumes slightly) All right, all right, kid--let's just say it's about prejudice. SAM: Really? Racism, ethnocentrism or heterosexism? FLETCH: Heterosexism? *That's* a new one...no, it's about the inability of humans to accept people who are a little different from them. SAM: Like the handicapped? FLETCH: Well...close enough; I chose to focus on the mentally handicapped this time around. SAM (peeking at screen again) Uh huh...um, excuse me for being forward, Fletcher, but--isn't there a slight chance of tomorrow's editorial being a little too personal? FLETCH: You're entitled to be forward, Sam--you're a lawyer's niece shooting to be a reporter. (getting a little upset) And sure, there's a *definite* chance, but ain't no one is going to call me on it, because it's the *editorial*, and I'm the *editor-in-chief*. SAM (backing away a bit): Sorry, Fletcher...it's just that one of the things I learned in grad school is to try to be objective in your writing, because you'll end up making a stronger point. FLETCH (turning completely around in his chair, and getting up): And did you *also* learn how to take care of a child who needs you 24 hours a day, while dodging stares from a world that sees her as a freak? SAM (taken aback): Fletcher...I...I'm sorry... (Harley, who's witnessed most of this conversation and grown more and more angry, approaches, holding a cup of coffee.) HARLEY (walks over to Sam, puts her hands on her friend's shoulders): Fletcher--what's gotten into you? Sam, we're going to be late for the movie. FLETCH: I'm sorry...I really am... (touches Sam's arm) It's just that Holly and I have dealt with three months of restaurant scenes, park scenes, and even hospital scenes with Meg...everyone's always looking at her with pity...and I don't want her to grow up that way, with society treating her like an outcast just because she's different! No one should live that way... SAM (suddenly understanding her boss completely): You're right, Fletcher--no one should. But *I* did, for most of my childhood and adolescence. And just when I was finally accepted, it started all over again. (Fletch and Harley stare at Sam, stunned. Suddenly, Josh bursts into the press room, holding a rolled-up newspaper in his hand.) JOSH: Fletcher!! (storms over to him, plants the paper in front of his face) What the hell did you think you were doing?!? (Sam and Harley stare at the scene as Fletch looks shocked.) CUT TO: SCENE: Cedars. Rick, while taking his lab coat off, enters the staff locker room, and opens his locker. He bends down to pick up a small envelope on top of his civilian clothes, and opens it, finding a note inside. RICK (reading the note aloud): Rick, please meet me at the Towers Club tonight at 8pm. It took me a while, but I finally realized you're the only man I ever truly loved (he pauses), who actually loved me back. I'd really like to see how you feel about me--if you still feel the same. See you then. Love, a friend. (He stares at the note for a few seconds.) Okay...now, who could *this* be? (his eyes open wide) Oh, geez, I hope it's not Blake. (He's about to hang his coat on a hook inside the locker, when he hears a booming voice behind him.) PHILLIP: You hope *what's* not Blake? RICK (swinging around): Phillip, you scared me. What are you doing here? PHILLIP: Sorry, pal--guess I've become quite adept in the shocking-people department--I just saw you walking in here and thought I'd stop by. (leans against a set of lockers) So, why in the world would you be concerned about Blake, of all people? RICK: Well, I got this note... (holds it up, then realizes what it says, and takes it back) uh, no, it's too personal. PHIL: What, is someone sick? (smiles) Oh, come on, Rick...you're my best friend, even if I surprise you sometimes...and you can't keep anything from me. RICK (laughs, puts the note back in the envelope) Actually, we can *both* keep stuff from each other pretty well, if I can recall. My secret love for Beth, your fling with my wife... PHIL (laughs) All right, all right--I get the point. Well, since I actually care about you for some reason, I'll let this one go. I'm in a generous mood today--I gave someone a beautiful piece of advice a few days ago, and it's about to pay off. RICK: Oh? And what would that advice be? PHIL: Oh-ho, you expect me to tell you? Not a chance, pal. RICK (smiles): This doesn't have to do with Alan, does it? And your secret plans for him? PHIL: Rick, until my plans go through, everything I *do* will have to do with Alan. But it's not all devious, horrible machinations--trust me. RICK: That's one thing I can definitely do, Phillip--trust you--even if I can't condone your actions. PHIL (pats his shoulder): Well, these days, there's no one I trust more than you, Rick...believe me. RICK (thinks to himself, fights off any sign of worry): Yeah, pal...thanks. (glances at the envelope for a second; the camera focuses on it in his hand) CUT TO: SCENE: The Meals on Wheels diner. Shot of Blake entering; she notices all the lights are out. BLAKE: Hello? Anyone here? (The lights suddenly go on, and a crowd of people appears.) CROWD: SURPRISE!!! (Shot of Frank, Eleni, Alan-Michael, Lucy, Hawk, Abby going from enthused to dejected, along with Sarah, whose sitting on a counter stool, and Rusty, who's standing behind the counter.) SARAH: Oh, it's *you*. BLAKE (smiling): Oh, thanks a lot, Sarah--Sarah Shayne?!? (approaches her) Oh, it's great to see you! (notices Rusty) Rusty! What are *you* doing here? RUSTY (looking over to Lucy, grinning): It was all Lucy's idea. LUCY: Oh, please--I can't take the credit. My father's the one who brought them here--oh, wait, wait! I think I hear him! FRANK: Everyone get down! ELENI: Get the lights--quick! (The lights go out, and 10 seconds later, Buzz's booming voice pierces through the door.) BUZZ (speaking loudly): Gee, I wonder why the lights are off? I thought I left 'em on. REVA: I thought *I* left them on, Buzz. (They enter the diner.) That's very strange... CROWD: SURPRISE!!! (Reva, shocked beyond belief, swings her head towards Buzz, then the group of people, then back to Buzz.) REVA: Oh...my...lord--Buzz!! SARAH (already getting emotional): Hi, honey. REVA (swinging her head back to the group, spotting her mother): Mama? MAMA!!! (runs over and embraces Sarah) Oh, Mama, I've missed you...I've missed you so much... SARAH: Me too, honey, me too...my sweet child... REVA (still holding Sarah, starting to cry, notices her brother): RUSTY! (she reaches out to him, and he vaults over the counter and joins in the hugfest, as the overjoyed crowd watches) Oh, God...oh, I've missed you both so much...I couldn't wait to see you again... RUSTY (as Hawk approaches them and stretches his arms around them): We never *thought* we'd see you again, sister. Thank God we were wrong...this is one amazing miracle. HAWK: Amen to that, son. BUZZ (smiling, getting teary-eyed): You bet it is! REVA (crying): Oh, Mama...(Shot of Lucy and Frank, looking at the scene and then each other, about to cry themselves. Reva turns to Buzz.) Did...you do this? BUZZ: I'm afraid so, Reva...although I had no idea it'd make you bawl so much...I absolutely can't *stand* to see women cry... ALAN-MICHAEL: Then I guess you better avoid telling her about you-know-who, Buzz. REVA (stares at A-M): Who? (turns to Buzz) *Who?* DYLAN (standing in the corner, by the light switch): Me, Mom...me. (Reva looks at him for a second, then--as the group around her breaks up--runs over to him and hugs Dylan, as his eyes turn toward the ceiling and well up with tears. He strokes her hair.) You don't know what this means to me, Mom... REVA: Dylan...Dylan...I can't believe this...I just can't believe this...this is the happiest day of my life... (There's a shot of Buzz and her family walking over to her. As she embraces Buzz, there's a close-up of Abby, apparently filled with a bizarre look of jealousy.) The happiest day... CUT TO: SCENE: The Journal. Josh has Fletcher's collar in one hand, and the paper in the other. JOSH: You filthy little--I thought more of this paper than *this*! (Rips his hand off Flecther's neck, then opens the rolled-up paper up onto Fletcher's desk; it's already opened to a certain page, with a huge photo of Josh and Reva, dancing.) How did you get this shot, and who in God's name wrote this headline? (points toward the header, which is in large, bold print): LEWIS OILMAN SET TO DUMP WIFE FOR EX-LOVER FLETCHER (looks at article, and becomes almost as shocked as Josh is): Josh, believe me--I had nothing to do with this. HARLEY: Take it easy, Josh. (looks at photo, depressed) JOSH (doesn't even notice her): You're this rag's editor! Don't you notice it when one of your writers decides to ruin someone's *life*? FLETCH: Josh, I... SAMANTHA (interrupting, trying to help): Fletcher, that's the society column...and I helped out on the layout and paste-up of that page... (Josh turns to her, fuming.)...but I don't know who the columnist is. FLETCH: Who, Miss Society? That's... DINAH (strolls over to the group, holding her leather jacket over her shoulder): That's me! Who wants to know? (As Harley looks on, apparently upset, Josh swings around and glowers at Dinah with fiery eyes.) CUT TO: SCENE: Towers Club. Rick, wearing a black suit and gray tie, enters main room, his eyes already searching for his mysterious date. He checks his watch, and then looks up and around the club again, to no avail. Suddenly, he hears a wolf whistle from the back of the room. RICK (doing a double-take): YOU?!? ****END OF ACT ONE**** "Don't be so open-minded that your brains fall out." Linda Bowles