A sick, sad journey through the minds of Moun10Mama and SailorVal
(c) 1999

Disclaimer:  As far as I know, JC does not hate Canadians.  Neither do Moun10Mama or SailorVal. (Except Celine Dion and Shania Twain.) And Alex Trebek IS condescending, but it’s completely coincidental that he’s Canadian.  Or is it?

     The familiar voice of the Jeopardy! Announcer intones, “Now entering the studio are today’s contestants. . .  a spunky FuManSkeeto bootlegger from Northampton, Massachusetts, SailorVal. . .” the audience cheers, “ also from Northampton, a cynical Dawson’s Creek fanatic, Courtney A. Simpson,” more cheers, “and from Jamestown, New York, international singing sensation and Beanie Baby connoisseur, Nick Carter!!”  Suddenly the crowd falls silent.  Thinking quickly, the announcer ad libs, “And our new house band, N Sync.”  There is a deafening roar from the crowd. Johnny also announces Alex Trebek, but the audience is totally enthralled by the five guys now taking their places in the corner of the stage.
     “Is this where we say, ‘The Warrant’?” Justin asks Chris as the lights go up.  <Three points if you’re enough of a PBS freak to get this one.>
     “That’s our Friday show.  It’s only Wednesday.” Lance replies.
    “This is the one where we have to listen to that arrogant Canadian jerk.” JC puts in.  “I hate those damn Canadians,” he says under his breath.
    Meanwhile, Nick and the girls are setting up behind their podiums.  On the right, Val adjusts her FuManSkeeto t-shirt.  In the center position, Courtney signs her name with a flourish and looks over at Alex.  “Damn condescending Canadian.” She thinks to herself.  On the left, Nick runs his fingers through his hair, makes a mental note to buy some shampoo, and silently repeats his mantra, “I am sexual, I am sexual.”
    Joey eyes the three contestants.  “Hey Chris, is that girl on the right wearing one of your shirts?”
    “Joey, don’t be stupid.  None of my clothes cover a girl’s entire midriff. . .” Chris glances over at the girl.  Much to his surprise, Joey is right.  There is indeed a cartoon of himself and Busta stretched across the front of her shirt.  “Hmmm, I wonder where she got that?”
    Alex Trebek calmly adjusts his tie. “Another day, another game,” he thinks to himself. “These stupid Americans, they never know all the answers like me, eh.” He smiles, ignoring the fact that, as always, the answers are right in front of him.  “Welcome Nick, Courtney and Valerie.  And helping us out with our music today is N Sync. Let’s get started.  The categories for the first round are: One Hit Wonders, MMC: Now and Forever, (Alleged) Girlfriends, Reel vs. Real, The Heart and Soul of the Backstreet Boys and finally, Crotch-Shots. Nick, since you’re clearly the least intelligent, you can pick first.”
    “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Nick asks.
    “If he doesn’t get it, doesn’t that prove Alex’s point?” Val whispers to Courtney.
    Courtney smirks. “Just pick something, Carter.”
    “OK, I’ll take “The Heart and Soul of the Backstreet Boys” for $500.”
    Val looks over at Courtney, who rolls her eyes. “Of course.”
    “The Answer is . . . prior to joining the Backstreet Boys, Nick Carter got his start as the front man in this long forgotten group.”
    The audience falls silent as no one rings in.
    Alex looks haughtily at the three contestants.  He’d show them who knew their Backstreet Boys trivia.  “The group you were looking for is, ummm, ummm,” Trebek falters.  Looking at his answer key, he realizes the spot where the answer should be is blank.
    In the background, JC snickers. Silly Canadian.
    “Wait a minute,” Nick pipes up.  “What are you talking about?  I was never in another group.”
    Trying to regain some sense of dignity, as well as control, Alex looks over to the side. “Judges?” he says weakly.  The Jeopardy! Judges go into a frantic flurry of activity.  They didn’t expect anyone to actually PICK that clue.  Suddenly, a voice from the audience yells out—
    “Yes you were!  I saw it on Before They Were Rock Stars.  I swear.”
    “Was that Natalya?” Val and Courtney say at the same time.
    The cameras briefly stop rolling as the hysterical munchkin is dragged out of the audience, chanting “Nick and the Pussycats!  Nick and the Pussycats! You can’t deny it forever Nick!  You’ll never keep me down!”
    Alex smoothes his tie down.  “Well, let’s get back to the game, eh. I guess you’re still a prick Nick.  Umm, I mean, I guess it’s still your pick Nick.”
    Nick pauses.  He can’t pick a clue and think at the same time. He thinks to himself, “OK, strategy.  I guess Backstreet Boys trivia isn’t my strong suit.  What would Frick do?”
Suddenly, a vision of fellow Backstreet Boy Brian Littrell appears in front of Nick.
    “Use the Force, Nick.”
    “What?  What’s that?”
    “Pick a category you know something about, dumbass.”
    “Oh, OK, thanks.”
    Brian vanishes.
    Courtney waves her hand in front of Nick’s face.  “Hello?”
    “Mr. Carter, we need you to pick a clue.” Alex prods.
    “OK,” Nick says.  Brian’s words echo in his head.  “I’ll take Crotch Shots for $100.”
    Alex reads the clue as a gigantic picture of an N Syncer’s groin appears on the gameboard. “This N Sync Member is known for his near obsession with baby blue.”
    Nick jumps on his buzzer, but Courtney, being a Super Nintendo Jeopardy! Champion, beats him to it.  “Who is Justin Timberlake?” she answers correctly.  She glances at the picture as it disappears from the screen and whispers to Val, “Good thing they got Talya out of here.  She’d be having a seizure as we speak.”
    Courtney turns back to the board to pick the next clue, when she realizes Val had no response to her comment about Natalya.  Courtney shrugs.  Val must be zoning again.
    “I’ll take MMC-Now and Forever for $300.” She says before Alex has a chance to tell her it’s her turn to pick.
    “The answer is: This Prefabricated Mickey Mouse Club Band was known for it’s song “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” as well as up to the minute sayings like ‘Let’s get Stupid’ and ‘Tune in, Groove On, Bust Out.”
    J.C. rolls his eyes. Valerie doesn’t move.  Courtney is too stunned by Val’s silence to ring in, and Nick has no clue. Time runs out.
    “You were trying to think of The Party.” Alex sneers confidently.
    Courtney grabs Val’s shoulders and shakes her.
    “Girl fight!” Joey shouts.
    “Valerie,” Courtney cries in horror.  “What is wrong with you?  I KNOW that you knew that question.  What happened to your dreams of beating up Chase?”
    “That’s Chasen now!” calls a voice from the audience.
    Suddenly Val snaps back to life.  “I’ll get you yet Chase! How dare you call *N Sync sell-outs when you sold your soul to Disney a long time ago . . .”
    “Wow, that girl loves us!” says JC.  “But how does she know about the Party and Chase and O-Town in the early 90s.  There is something about her . . .almost familiar.”
    Valerie, now enraged, starts off towards the audience, wandering in the direction from which the voice had been coming a moment ago.  That red-headed bastard had it coming to him.  She brushes past Courtney, and is about to push Nick out of the way when she suddenly changes course.  She grabs Nick’s shirt collar pulls his face dangerously close to hers and shouts at him,    “You. . . you ruined me. . . I trusted you. . . it used to be about the music!  What happened to the music?” She lets go of his collar, but before he can take a step back, she backhands him across the face, then picks up her signaling button and presses it. “Alex, it’s Nick and the Pussycats and I. . . I was a pussycat!  So put that in your pipe and smoke it, mister.”  Valerie collapses on her podium, sobbing.  Courtney tries to comfort her, but to no avail.  Val keeps murmuring “Hey, you, I wanna be your boyfriend.”
    Alex is stunned.
    “Whoa, did you see that?” Justin says.
    “I’ve always wanted to do that,” replies Lance.
    “I think I’m in love,” declares Chris.  “She’s crazy.”
    “Well, go over there and help.” JC says reasonably.
    “Why would Chris help Nick?” Joey asks.
    “No, you idiot.  Not him.  The girl.” Justin responds.  He squints at the name on the podium.  “Valerie.”
    “I don’t know if I can,” says Chris rather timidly.  “Look at her, I mean with a radiant personality like that, she could have any man on earth.”
    All five of the guys look over and eye Val who still remains slumped over the podium.  She has begun to drool and twitch.  Nick is staring at her in horror as he holds his hand to his face. Courtney on the other hand was busy promising Val ice cream if only she would snap out of her frightening trance/flashback.
    “Yeah, any man on earth,” said JC numbly.
    “Could one of you hosers please tell me what the hell this is aboot?” (Note: Not a typo, but rather, Canadian dialect.) demands an angry Alex.
    “It’s not so easy when the answers aren’t all laid out for you, is it Mr. Trebek?” Courtney says, putting an arm around Valerie’s shoulders and using her sleeve to wipe up the drool pool forming on the podium.
    “I’ll tell you what it’s about!” Chase answers as he strides onto the set. “My formerly dear friend Valerie had her soul stolen by that greasy haired blond jerk!  She was a would-be Mouseketeer, back in the day. . . ”
    “A-ha!” JC thinks.
    “But she never made the cut.”
    Valerie’s arm shoots into the air. Courtney jumps at the first sign of life.  Chris pulls his mic pack off and walks towards the small group assembled on the stage.   Valerie speaks.  “No. . . I don’t want you telling them.  It’s my story.  I should be the one.”
    Chris approaches the podiums, but Courtney stops him before he reaches Valerie.
    “I just want to make sure she’s okay.” He pleads.
    “I appreciate your concern.  But seeing you up close could set her catatonic.  And I really wanna hear this story,” Courtney replies, ever the concerned friend.  The other members of N Sync start inching towards the action.
    Valerie takes a deep breath.  “It all started in 1991.  I was just a little girl in Louisiana with a dream.”
    “What?  Val that’s not you.  That’s Britney Spears.” Courtney exclaims.
    “Where?” Justin says, ducking down.
    “Oh, yeah you’re right.  I mess up sometimes cuz I’m from Mississippi.”
“No you’re not!!  My God, Valerie, get ahold of yourself.  I didn’t want to do this but--” Courtney pulls a Pixy Stick out of her pocket.  She hands it to Val.  “Here.  Take this.”
    “Ooooh.  So purple.” Valerie says before she downs the energy-giving candy treat.
“Okay.  I think I’m in control now.”  She says as she licks her lips.  “Anyway, Chase is right--”
“Ahem.  It’s Chasen.”
    “Yeah.  Whatever.  I’ll deal with you later.  So I auditioned for the Mickey Mouse Club.  Everything was going fine, until they asked me to interact with some of the other cast members.  As I was waiting for my turn, I leaned against a wall and hit a lever on accident.  And the next thing I know, Fred is sprawled on the ground, unconscious, a split open sand bag next to his lifeless body.”
    “Oh yeah.” JC pipes up.  “I remember that day.  He was never quite the same after that.  I KNEW you looked familiar.”
    “Okay. . .” says Alex.  “But that doesn’t explain why you just decked Mr. Carter.”
    “Does she really need a reason?” Courtney muses to no one in particular.  The members of N Sync stifle chuckles.
    “I was getting to that,” Valerie replies, flashing Alex an exasperated glare, now fully regaining her normal vigor.  “I was stuck in Orlando with no job. . . and I just didn’t see much of a future in being a groupie for The Party.  So I went looking for employment.  I was desperate.”
    “That’s when she met me.” Nick cuts in.  A throbbing red handprint decorates his face.  “I took her in.”  Chris narrows his eyes at Nick.  How could this angel be involved in anything so low down and sordid?  Nick catches Chris’s gaze, rubs his aching cheek and for once, does the intelligent thing.  He shuts up and lets Valerie talk.
    “You have to understand.  This was back in the day.  Nick was a different person.  He’d never met Lou Perlman.  He still washed his hair.  Aaron was too young to drive Nick up the wall.  He wasn’t lusted after by millions of screaming girls.  He was. . . just a guy.  He was innocent.  He was all about the music.”  Valerie pauses a moment, remembering Nick before he was the egotistical, obnoxious teen-idol he is today.  “Nick had his own little group. . . me and another girl. . . he called us the Pussycats.  We wore sequined outfits. . . we sang, we danced. . . we had a good time.”
    “I didn’t think you would remember.”  Nick said.
    “But then everything changed.  Nick got famous with this OTHER group he was involved with, and he unceremoniously dumped Josie and I.  I never heard from him again after that.  I lost the first boy I ever loved to fame!  I went back home, and I guess I just blocked it all out. . . it was too painful to remember.”
    A solitary tear rolled down Nick’s cheek.  “I never forgot you, Val.  Not even after being propositioned by hundreds of thousands of fourteen-year-olds.  I surrounded myself with Beanie Babies. . . but they couldn’t fill the hole you left in my life!!  I loved you, the only way I knew how.  I still love you!  I Want You Back!” Nick breaks down.