Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Rupert Holmes and various other legal people. I'm only attempting to live up to their standards.
Italics denotes thoughts
Author's Note: This story is meant to be very unserious.
And now with all that legal stuff out of the way, on with the story!
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"Mr. Foley!" Gertie exclaimed as he walked through the reception area. He whirled around, rendered speechless by what Gertie held in her hands. "Oh, the cake," she said, looking down at the glowing angel-food cake. "It doesn't have any banana oil in it at all. I should know, I baked it myself."
Mr. Foley continued to look confused. He rubbed his head and continued to stare at the radiant pastry. Gertie stared at him and then it hit her. "It's your seventh anniversary here at WENN! Remember, last time we brought you a cake you had the German measles and we were all stuck here."
Betty popped her head out of studio A. "Mr. Foley, we need you in here!"
Mr. Foley glanced down at the cake, blew out the candles and rushed into studio A. Gertie glanced down at the cake. "So this is the thanks I get for trying to be nice?" A shadow loomed up over the cake.
Gertie glanced up, saying, "Can I help y..."
"Oh no," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I know what I want."
"Mr. Pruitt!" Gertie shrieked. "I...I thought you were in jail. Or at least stuck in a long espionage trial."
"Guess again," he said, flashing a fiendish smile. "And this time I'm not going to be nice. Where is everyone at this station?"
Gertie nervously gripped the switchboard. "Let me think. Um...Mr. Foley, Betty, Eugenia, Jeff, and Hilary are in studio A performing 'This Girl's Kinfolk.' Betty's filling in for Maple, she has a bad cold and is at home. Lester is at the controls. Mackie is off who-knows-where performing Hamlet. Victor is in his office. And Scott is in the green room. Mr. Eldridge just went out to get the lunch orders and should be back any..."
The door banged open. "They didn't have the kippers on rye toast that Hilary wanted at the Buttery," Mr. Eldridge said as he shut the door behind him. "Oh, Mr. Pruitt! Where the hell have you been?"
"In prison. Now," he said, brandishing his gun, "into the green room." Mr. Pruitt grabbed the glass of water that was sitting on Gertie's desk and tossed it at the switchboard. "That should keep all phone calls at bay for a while. First, let me fix the door."
Gertie and Mr. Eldridge stared on in silence as Pruitt boarded up the door and secured it with a padlock. He turned the key in the lock and tossed it into his jacket pocket. "I guess no one will be getting in or out now. To the green room. Now!"
The threesome walked into the green where Scott was sitting at the table, playing a game of solitaire. "Oh Mr. Eldridge," he said absently, "could you get me a cup of coffee? I'm finally winning!"
"I'll get you more than a cup of coffee, Sherwood."
Scott set down his cards. "I'd recognize that voice anywhere," he said, not turning around. "What are you doing here, Pruitt? I thought you'd be on trial or in jail."
Pruitt laughed and said, "My faithful assistant, Mrs. Etruscan, tried to break me out of here the night that you captured me, but there were too many people around to get out safely. So she broke me out of jail yesterday. She makes a mean cleaning woman."
Scott slowly turned around to stare into the barrel of Pruitt's 45. "Well, it looks like you're better prepared tonight. Why did you come back? Revenge?"
"Oh, Sherwood," Pruitt said, "you know me all too well. Stay here in the green room while I get the others." Pruitt reached over and yanked out the phone cord from the wall. "If you're thinking about making a dash for the exit, I've already boarded up the doors. And if you try anything funny, your precious Miss Roberts will get it."
"Get what?" asked Mr. Eldridge.
"Get it in the back," Pruitt replied with an evil smile.
"Get what in the back?" Mr. Eldridge asked.
"Get it!" Pruitt emphasized.
"Get what?" Mr. Eldridge shouted back.
By now, Pruitt had become very exasperated. "Okay, old man! I will shoot her! I will gun her down! She will get a bullet in the back! Her goose will be cooked! She'll bleed to death on the floor of studio A!"
"Mr. Pruitt, there is no need to become graphic!" Mr. Eldridge said. "A simple 'She will die' would have been sufficient. And we understand those threats. Just go and get the others." He shook his head. These people nowadays. Do they have any manners? he thought.
Meanwhile, as Scott, Gertie and Mr. Eldridge settled themselves into the green room, Pruitt stormed studio A. "This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system," he boomed, startling the cast.
"What are you..." Hilary began to ask when she was cut off by an inhumane noise. It was almost impossible to describe this noise. It was almost like a shriek, but higher pitched and much longer. The cast clutched their hands to their ears in agony as the noise became louder. It never declined in pitch or strength, but just kept steady. Eventually, the control panels began to smoke.
Lester came out of the control room. "I think whatever that is," he shouted, trying to be heard above the noise, "took out the station. We'll be down for an hour or so until I can fix it."
The noise stopped. Pruitt closed his mouth. "Excellent," he purred. Waving the gun, he said, "Now, everyone to the green room."
The cast stood in stunned silence, still clasping their ears. Jeff was the first one to react. "Mr. Pruitt? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at a big trial?"
"When you have connections, you can be anywhere," Pruitt said. He waved the gun at the six. "Please move into the green room." The cast began to slowly move towards the doors. "Not you, Miss Roberts."
Betty turned around in surprise. "Wh-what do you want?"
"You'll be my insurance when I surprise Mr. Comstock." Pruitt walked over, grabbed Betty around the waist and pressed the gun to her. "Everyone get in the green room! And there is no escape. I've already made sure of that. Move it or your precious Miss Roberts gets it!"
The cast filtered out one by one, each giving Betty a look of sympathy as they passed by her. "Oh, Betty," Eugenia said as she walked through the doors, "how do we get into all these messes?"
Very carefully, Betty thought to herself.
"Come along, my dear. We mustn't keep Victor waiting." Pruitt grabbed Betty by the elbow and roughly shoved her into the hallway. Just then, something popped out from the ceiling.
"AHHHH!" Betty screamed as something heavy landed on top of her.
"Oh, Mrs. Etruscan!" Pruitt exclaimed as she got up. "What perfect timing! Go and cover the green room. I can't believe my threats have worked this long." He glanced at her disguise. "What are you wearing?"
Mrs. Etruscan looked confused. "My cleaning clothes." When Pruitt still appeared confused, she strove to clarify. "Well, Rollie, when you told me to get a job working in this building for extra security, the only one available was a cleaning woman. So I took the job and worked at it for a while. Then you got caught and there wasn't an opportunity to get you, I kept the job. It's good steady work. A nice supplement to the work you give me."
"We'll talk about this later," Pruitt said. "But I must say, I am very disappointed. You looked so much better in that German nightclub... Well, do you have your gun?"
"Of course!" she said, patting her dress pocket. "And my mop and feather duster can turn into a shotgun. I'm very prepared."
"Good. Go and cover the green room."
Mrs. Etruscan nodded and walked into the green room, wielding her Colt revolver.
"Well," Pruitt said to Betty as he pulled her to her feet, "you certainly make a good cushion. A bit bony, but I guess you'll do in a pinch. Let's go visit Victor now." Pruitt rapidly paced towards Victor's office, dragging Betty along with him.
Inside his office, Victor was busy with the bills. Going to Washington every week was finally rearing its ugly head on him...the endless mountain of paperwork made Victor wish that he had never taken the job in the first place. He sighed and began to work on the utility bills.
Out in the hallway, Pruitt told Betty, "Step aside. And don't try to run for it or I'll shoot you." He took a running step and slammed his tubby body into the door. The door splintered under his attack. "Hello Mr. Comstock. It's been a long time."
"Not long enough," Victor said as he stared down the barrel of Pruitt's gun.
"Miss Roberts," Pruitt called out, "could you please come in here?"
Betty slowly edged around the doorway and peeked into office. "Hi Victor," she said quietly. "Guess who's here?"
Victor rolled his eyes. "This is just great! I'm only here for two days a week and this has to happen! Why can't things like this happen when I'm in Washington?" He sighed and threw his arms in the air. "What do you want, Pruitt?"
Pruitt grinned at Victor's resignation. "Revenge upon you and this Mickey Mouse station. WENN will be no more when I'm through with it!" He threw his head back and began to laugh. "Bwhaaaahaaaahaaaaa!" Halfway through the laugh, Pruitt began to hack. He coughed out a wad of gum. "This is what happens to me when I chew Juicy Fruit!" he growled. "Enough of this revenge business. Into the green room! Now!"
"Or what?" Victor asked, settling back in his chair.
"Or I will shoot your lovely Miss Roberts," growled Pruitt. He leaned over to press the gun to Betty's abdomen.
"She's not my Miss Roberts," Victor said. "I am sick of everyone assuming that I will crumble when I'm threatened."
"Victor!!" Betty protested. "I can't die!"
"Oh, Betty," Victor said soothingly, "Pruitt isn't man enough to shoot you."
Pruitt had grown visibly agitated with that remark. "Victor Comstock!" he shouted. "If I weren't ready to eradicate this station.... Just get into the green room now!"
"Victor," Betty pleaded, "just do what he says. I know you don't like assumptions, but now is not the time test out new principles,"
"But Betty," Victor had just begun to reach full steam about this new idea, "without testing, new principles would never come into effect. And I am sick to death of being squashed like an ant when someone threatens you!"
"Victor," Pruitt interrupted, "I am not going to squash you like an ant. Just be a real man and get into the green room and stop this stupid principles talk!"
Victor took a moment to think. To Betty, this moment seemed to last forever. She said a quick prayer and took a quick mental tour through her life. Life for her had been brief, Betty thought, only a mere twenty-three years, but she had lived it well. Or so she had thought. If only Victor would make up his mind...
"Oh all right," Victor said quickly. "I'll go, but only because I think Betty deserves better than to be shot by you."
"Excellent," Pruitt purred. "Now I can put my master plan to work. Bwahaaahaaahaaa!"
Betty and Victor exchanged anxious glances. What was Pruitt planning to do to the station?
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After Betty and Victor pondered what was Pruitt planning to do to the station, they all went to the green room.
"Rollie!" Mrs. Etruscan said. "It's getting a bit crowded in here. Isn't there something that we can do about it?"
Pruitt squeezed himself through the green room door. It was a bit crowded in here. "You, engineer-type person." Lester looked startled and glanced over at Pruitt. "Go with Mrs. Etruscan."
"Rollie?" Lester asked. "Herr Pruitt? Is it really you?"
Pruitt squinted at Lester. "My goodness," he said, "it's Lester Von Trapp! Lester! It's been so long since I last saw you in... Where were we?"
"Hamburg, Herr Pruitt," Lester said, dropping his American accent to reveal a heavy German accent. He stood up and clicked his heels. "How can I be of service to you?"
"Lester?" Betty asked. "You're a...Nazi?"
Lester whirled around to stare at Betty. "You simple fools." He began to laugh. "Where do you think C.J. went? Bwahaaahaaahaaa!"
Eugenia looked startled. "What did happen to C.J.?"
"Yes," Jeff chimed in, "where did C.J. go?"
Scott looked up from his solitaire game. "Hmm. I never noticed that he was missing. Last time I remember seeing him was the night that Victor came back from the dead. I guess we've been so busy with Victor's resurrection, that marathon broadcast, Hilary's agent, the dating game, and that burlesque show to even notice that C.J. was gone!"
"Curses!" Lester said. "I thought you'd never notice he was gone. Now my plan has run afoul."
"Lester," Pruitt said, "you forget that I am in charge of this station now. Who's got the gun?"
"Ah, Herr Pruitt, I knew I could count on you," Lester said gratefully. "How can I be of service to you?"
Pruitt took a moment to think. "Well, you and Mrs. Etruscan could go and broadcast some propaganda. But please," he asked nicely, "do a better job than Jonathan Arnold did."
"Hey!" Victor said defensively. "I did a damn good job broadcasting that Nazi propaganda when I was Jonathan Arnold. Much better than the one that you have on now."
"At least this one is the genuine article," Lester said.
Pruitt cleared his throat loudly. "Enough!" he yelled. "Lester and Mrs. Etruscan, go to the control room and broadcast. Everyone else, stay here." He waved his gun just in case the message wasn't clear.
"Yah, boss," Mrs. Etruscan. "Come along, Lester. We have minds to control!"
Lester and Mrs. Etruscan left the green room, leaving just enough room for everyone to be comfortable. "I would have never guessed that Lester was a Nazi," Eugenia said.
"Well," Betty said, "Victor was a Nazi for a while too."
"Betty! I was not a Nazi. I was a double agent for the United States." Victor sighed. "When will you people get it straight?"
"Well, enough of this chitchat," Pruitt said. "As you all know, I want to reap revenge upon this Mickey Mouse station. Would you like to know how?"
"Not really," Hilary said.
Jeff reached over to elbow her. "Ix-nay on the attitude-nay," he whispered. "He has a gun!"
"Jeff has it right," Pruitt said. "And since I'm the one with the gun, I'd like an enthusiastic audience. Now!"
Gertie whistled, Mr. Foley clapped, Jeff and Hilary yelled, "Do tell!", Scott, Victor, and Betty said, "Yes...we want to know," and Mr. Eldridge continued to look confused.
"That's better." The racket continued. "Halt!" The company continued to cheer Pruitt. "Do you want me to use my emergency broadcast signal again?" Pruitt threatened.
Everyone stopped. "Good," Pruitt purred. He opened up his trenchcoat to reveal twenty sticks of dynamite.
"My god," Victor said, "that has to be enough dynamite to blow up this entire radio station!"
"Good estimation," Pruitt said, "but it's enough to blow up the entire building. But tonight I am feeling benevolent."
"Thank goodness," Eugenia said as she loosened her clench on Mr. Foley's arm. Mr. Foley also looked relieved as he rubbed his sore arm.
"Pruitt, you've never felt benevolent," Scott said suspiciously. "What's the catch?"
"Ah, you figured it out, Sherwood. This station is notorious for broadcasting drivel. Mostly drivel of a fanciful notion. My German friends are forever laughing at your "Book at Bedtime" and they came up with a new version called "Fractured Fairy Tales". Anyway, to make a long story short, I've decided to put this group to work at three different tasks, all based on the "Fractured Fairy Tales". If you can complete all three tasks, only this station will be blown to bits. Miss a task and someone will be in the building when it goes sky-high."
"Drivel?" Betty asked. "Is everyone a critic? Can I ever write anything that everyone will like?"
"Betty," Scott said, patting her arm, "You write wonderful scripts. But this is Pruitt...just let it go."
"No, Scott! I can't let it go!" Betty cried. "I have had enough of the criticism!! Let me at him!" Betty lunged for Pruitt, but Scott caught her in time. She lashed out futilely with her nails, trying to scratch Pruitt.
"I told you our Betty was a bobcat when she's angry," Mr. Eldridge observed.
"Miss Roberts," Pruitt said, dodging her lethal nails, "if you continue with this behavior I will be forced to leave you in this building when the time comes."
"BETTY!" everyone shouted in unison.
"Oh, all right," she sighed. "But I don't like it."
"Aha!" Victor said, "How does it feel to give up your principles? Not very nice, eh."
"Yes, Victor," Betty said resignedly. "You're right...as always."
"Okay, people," Pruitt said, clapping his hands. "Hmmm. Who has the gun? That would be...me. And who is doing all the talking? That would be...you. Enough already! I have had more than my fill of *your* problems. Would you like to know what the first challenge is or would you prefer to just die right now?"
"Yes," Gertie said, "tell us. I've had enough of everyone's problems too."
"Good. Someone knows how to listen. Could we all take a lesson from...what's your name?"
"Gertrude Reece. Everyone calls me Gertie."
"Whatever. The first task will be to fix a gourmet dinner from what is in this bag." Pruitt tossed a small paper bag on to the table. "You may also use what can be found in the green room. I heard that you have done this before, so I expect a dessert too! I will give you one hour to create this masterpiece for Mrs. Etruscan, Lester and me. I'll be outside the door with my gun so don't try anything funny!" And with that, Pruitt left the room.
"Now what are we going to do?" Eugenia said.
"Well, maybe we should look inside the bag," Jeff said.
Betty opened up the paper bag to reveal a box of rigatoni noodles, a bottle of Mexican salsa, and a small sack of flour. "Well," she said, "it doesn't look like much."
"Perhaps Hilary can work another miracle," Jeff said.
"Yes," Mr. Eldridge chimed in. "She is good at making a big deal out of nothing."
"Hilary?" Betty asked. "Are you up to the challenge?"
"It's my policy to only cook three square meals a year," Hilary said, "but seeing how our lives depend upon it, I can try."
One hour passes.
"Hilary," Victor said as he sniffed the air, "this smells wonderful! What did you make?"
"Well," she began in a grandiloquent voice, "for the main meal I boiled the rigatoni and stuffed them with a mixture of salsa and ketchup. I then covered the rigatoni with a mixture of ketchup and flour and baked it for twenty minutes."
"Hmmm. Sounds, well, interesting. And what is for dessert?"
"I made the dessert," Betty said. "It was from an old Girl Scout recipe that we made over the campfire back in Elkhart. It's a combination of flour, cream, cocoa and marshmallows. It's a recipe sure to please everyone."
Victor and Scott exchanged glances across the green room. "If you say so, Betty," Scott said after making gagging noises behind her back. "I guess we should get Pruitt in here to sample his gourmet dinner."
"Oh, Mr. Pruitt," Gertie sing-songed out the door, "your dinner is ready."
Pruitt strolled into the green room. "Well, what's cooking?" After Betty and Hilary presented him with their creations, Pruitt began to frown. "Grrrr," he growled. "These dishes actually look good. Argh!! But wait until you find out what the secret second task is! Bwahaaahaaahaaa!"
"Well," Jeff said, "what is the secret second task?"
"If I told you it wouldn't be a secret," Pruitt said.
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