Prologue:

I knew something was going to happen that day, that day in June, no July. Yes it was July, definitely. I was sick of people treating me like a dumb kid, I was sick of people not taking me seriously, people taking advantage of me. I thought that if I were famous all of my problems would be solved. But unfortunately for me, all of my problems got worse instead of better and on top of that I had a whole set of new problems to worry about. Ones that couldn’t be solved the same way they could when I was just another face In the crowd. I’ve been through everything here on this stage. The pain and the presents, the kisses and the kicks. The world around me is spiraling faster, people age and change, relationships start and end, and everything’s just make believe. Except the stage never changes. Alfred E Newman will still smile, crowds will still clap and cheer, there will always be actors. Just think all this will stay the same but change, all on the set of a place gone Mad.

"Nicole! I can’t believe I caught up with you. Can I borrow your purple eyeliner? Maurice needs some for one of my sketches this week except he doesn’t have any, surprising huh?" I asked sarcastically flipping through a copy of our latest script.

"Is Maurice that gay hairdresser guy?" she asked staring down at her pager which was beeping loudly.

"I don’t think he’s gay, probably just a cross dresser" Nicole cooed softly. "The youth of today, So innocent, no sweetie he’s not gay, but his husband David is." She taunted lifting up her pager.

"This damn thing, it doesn’t work, why did Marc get it for me any ways?"

I groaned at the mention of Marc. Marc has to be the most possessive boyfriend on the planet. Why did he have to like Nicole? Why not Debra? I mean, I’m fourteen and I know it’s really none of my business who my twenty seven year old friends are dating, but quite frankly, Marc is an asshole.

"When did you get your script? I didn’t…oh just a sec. Marc’s never going to stop paging me until I call him. I’ll catch up with you later" she said in this soft little voice, running her fingers shakily through her long blonde hair.

Poor Nicole, she’s going through a really tough time. Marc is so suspicious of her. It’s like she can’t be her own person when he’s around, even when he’s not. It’s just so frustrating, when you know someone’s going to get hurt except there’s nothing you can do to stop it, not that it would make much difference if I said anything anyways. It’s like he’s leading her away from who she really is. Poor Nicole.

Suddenly the door to my dressing room slammed open knocking a picture off the wall. Who else could it be but Debra Wilson? I sunk down in the couch. All right I’ll admit it, I was terrified. Now if you’ve met me you think I’m fearless, and I pretty much am, I’m very basically not like anyone else you’ve ever met. I don’t know what it is about her that frightens me. Maybe it was the first time I ever did a show. She just walked up to me and looked me up and down, smirked, and turned on her heel and left. Maybe it was her tattoos, or her nose ring or other conventional things. Maybe it was her eyes, those eyes that just said ‘mess with me and you die, simple as that’ so you backed off because you knew that she could kill you. Or maybe it’s something else, something totally different, something that makes you want to sink into the couch. Now I’m obviously the type of person who could take this confrontation sitting down. The only problem is that Debra’s been on the show a lot longer than I have so when we have a blow up I get the blame, so I try to stay out of her way. She surveyed the room wildly. Unfortunately, I was the only person in the room. I silently cursed Nicole for leaving me alone. Reluctantly I raised my eyes, to find that I was looking straight at her.

"Do you have my script?" She hissed, slamming her hand down on the table.

I felt my knees give out, if I wasn’t sitting down I would have fell to the floor.

"Um, no this is mine, it has my name on it so leave me alone" I spat out quietly.

This is another example of the effect she has on me, I’m never quiet. She narrowed her eyes at me,

"I can read, you little whore" she ridiculed me and stalked out of the room.

I let out a breath, one I hadn’t even known that I was holding in. At least she was gone, except her and I still weren’t on very good terms. It just makes me so angry, she doesn’t hate anyone else but me. She just adores Nicole and her and Alex are practically best friends. Why me? What’s so wrong with me? I’ll bet it’s because I’m young, but I’m old enough to know not to cross her path. In actuality, I try to avoid Debra but sometimes…I was still lost in thought when continued to page though the script. It would be a great show, no skits with Debra (the writers know about our little problem) a few with Lisa Kushell (my best friend) Yeah I was sitting on top of the world, unfortunately that was just the beginning.

I couldn’t believe it, the stupid cell phone was still ringing. Yeah, a cell phone, like some stupid teenager, the ones who don’t wear anything but Gucci shoes and Prada dresses. Unfortunately in Hollywood there’s a lot of those little snots, but my parents made me get one so they could keep track of me (I’m not the most cautious person on the planet, so sue me)

I didn’t want to answer it, I didn’t have the time or patience for another rejection. We weren’t talking about boyfriends or job interviews, it was guest hosts. Ever since Mad was first put on the air we had competitions with Saturday Night Live. Same time slot, same type of show, someday people will realize that SNL isn’t funny (I hope!) but they have these wicked guest stars, it’s the whole twenty year credibility thing. Mr. Wardle (our director) is one of the most competitive people I’ve ever met in my life. He took this whole ratings competition like he was preparing for World War Three.

Since I’m the youngest cast member he appointed me to write out a list of ‘hip, young, innovative, hot, and sexy’ guests. I struggled with the paper for awhile until I’d compiled a pretty impressive group of celebrities, it’s not like I pay attention to celebrities though, so it was kind of hard. Of course when it all came down to it, it was truly a wish list. I’d been getting calls all week about cancellations (‘so and so’ is just too busy with his/her own appointments at the moment, we’ll cal l you when he/she has less on his/her plate) That meant, ‘when they aren’t famous anymore’ then there was the flat out rejections (The celebrity in question does not wish to participate in this type of television appearance) what was so wrong with Mad any ways? I’m just dreading telling Mr. W about all this. Maybe I’ll send someone tough to give him the news. Like Debra.

The phone was still ringing. I looked at it then quickly shut off the ringer. If I couldn’t hear it then I wouldn’t have to answer it and it would be less bad news for me to tell Mr. Wardle. I had it all figured out. Or so I thought. Except now that I look back on that ringing phone, I know that if I would have discovered who was on the line I would have picked it up in a s econd because that single phone call would change my life forever.

Walker Hanson slammed down the phone in aggravation, "First they call us and ask if the boys can do their show, then they don’t answer when I call" he replied as Diana walked over and patted his shoulder.

"I’m sure that those actors are busy practicing, besides they’re always on the run." Taylor looked up at his parents, "So are we." he muttered turning back to his geography homework.

Somehow his parents had agreed to let him and his brothers do Mad TV. They were so big on family values. Maybe they’ve never seen Mad, he thought to himself.

He had, so had Isaac and Zac, they all agreed that it was better than Beavis and Butthead. Plus twice as disgusting. Ever since then Isaac had been doing ‘UBS Guy’ impressions and Zac was forever singing ‘you are now watching Mad TV’(it was great for harmonizing)it was something about the whole cast that just made you laugh. But there was one person in particular. He’d only seen her as a hillbillies daughter, a student, a visitor to the ‘Pretty Beauty Nail Salon’, and a few other ‘way out there’ characters .. She was different. She stood out. Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to do Mad. Not that Taylor had a lot of problems with girls. in fact he could have almost any girl in the world. Maybe it was because the Mad Girl seemed attainable. He didn’t know her name, not for sure. Every time the beginning credits rolled around, he kept forgetting to look for her. The girl couldn’t have been much older than fourteen or fifteen, dark brown hair and big green eyes. Totally beautiful. If he got to do Mad then he could meet her, talk to her, act with her. Of course you have to look at the other side. She might have been a snob, a brat, a rich little freak, except somehow, he just didn’t think so. Suddenly Zac slid into the room in his socks on the tile,

"Today on Incredible Findings, Hanson! they’re in-cred-I-ble!" he shouted.

Taylor stood up

"Zac! Settle, some people are trying to work." Taylor shouted carrying his books up to the room, the one he shared between his two brothers.

Zac looked a little stung, he didn’t usually snap at him. It was the whole puberty thing. Mad would be on later that night, he would watch the credits then. But for right now he was contented at laying on his bed, staring up at Isaac’s top bunk and thinking about her.

"Sasha, aren’t you going to answer that?" Lisa asked raising her eyebrow and handing me a doughnut. I looked up reluctantly,

"Well no, do you have a problem with that?" I challenged, no one meets my challenges. She shrugged, Lisa’s my best friend on the planet, of course, she’s twenty six. Except we have so much in common, she started sketch comedy the same time I did (fifteen, except she didn’t start out big. Like Mad TV) and I’d dress like her if I had more self discipline, and she’d dress like me if she had more confidence, have the same color hair and eyes. Some people think she’s my older sister.

"Oh well my hearing isn’t that important" I grinned,

"You’re right it’s not" Lisa smacked me with a pillow.

"Shaddup. Want a doughnut? All they had was glazed. Will got to the dessert cart before I did" Yeah Will’s overweight except he doesn’t mind making cracks about it, he thinks of the best one’s himself. Not to mention the fact he always plays Liza Minelli, and loves it. He doesn’t mind it actually, not even when people tell him he ‘looks just like her’ How’s that for self confidence?

"Shaddup? What kind of English is that? Lisa is me name of friend" I cackled, I hate giggling, it sounds so ditzy, that’s why I cackle.

"Oh I guess I’ll just have to have glazed then" I muttered pathetically, the phone was still ringing.

"Could you at least turn the ringer off, that phone is so annoying. I’ll rip it to pieces, Sasha. I swear it!" she cried threateningly.

"Cry. I’ll answer the fricking phone all right?" I hissed sarcastically in my moffia voice pressing talk on the cell,

"Hello, this is Sasha Fairfield from Mad TV" I muttered, unenthusiastically unzipping Lisa’s backpack.

"Um hi, I’m Taylor, Taylor Hanson. I was just calling to ask if you still want us, Hanson, to come on your show" I think my eyes got kind of large because Lisa raised her eyebrows again and mouthed,

"What?" I couldn’t believe it, someone actually wanted to come on the show. Even if it was Hanson, I despise Hanson.

"Yeah, of course we just have to check our date book and one of the secretaries to get back to you. Do you have any date in particular?" I questioned in my most ‘adult like voice’ I still didn’t sound too old, that might be because I’m fifteen. Maybe I should have let Lisa take the call.

"Not really. I…we were just wondering about the cast members. There’s that girl who’s young, is she going to be on the show with us? I just wanted to know" he croaked. Once again my eyes grew so large Lisa could probably see into my brain, I felt like gagging. She tapped my arm,

"What?" I almost forgot about Taylor on the phone until he said

"Well?"

"Yeah she’ll be there, I’ll tell her you called. Her name is Sasha"

"What did you say your name was?"

"Lisa, Lisa Kushell"