FicWad

*********
The trio got into the backseat of the taxi, and Pizzazz sat next to the driver.

"Back to the motel," Pizzazz ordered.

"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital instead?" Roxy asked. "Frostbite's serious stuff."

Pizzazz turned her head and gave Roxy a look that clearly said 'no'. Roxy realized that bringing Stormer to a hospital, or any such institution, would not be sensible now.

"Maybe it's just a bit of frostnip," Jetta said. "That's not as serious. Stormer, what were you doing outside all night? We thought you'd be in -- "

"Let's save the details for later," Pizzazz said sharply. She cocked her head in the direction of the taxi driver. Jetta quieted right down. Discussing this while they were not alone was not smart, even though their driver didn't seem to speak much English. He probably understood quite a bit and, worse yet, he had seemed to recognize the band. When they reached the motel, Pizzazz forked over a large sum of money.

On the way back in to Chicago, they had not had to pass any sort of checkpoint. Right now, the morality stations were only set up to intercept those entering the city via train - those driving in would be safe. That would soon be changing though.

************
Several hours earlier, Pizzazz, Roxy, and Jetta had been talking during their el train ride into Chicago, just following their shocking encounter with Stormer. Several moments of awkward silence had plodded by before conversation started. Finally, Jetta broke the silence.

"Well, I guess it makes sense, once you think of it. She hasn't done much dating lately," Jetta had said. "She's never seemed all that interested in the blokes."

"I thought she was shy. I didn't think she was a goddamn lesbian!" Pizzazz had responded angrily. Pizzazz had trouble comprehending the idea of not being attracted to men.

Roxy was playing with the buckle on her jacket. Although she considered Pizzazz to be the one to look up to and perhaps her closest friend, she'd always been very fond of Stormer too, though demonstrating that fondness did not come naturally to her.

"It's too bad she never told us," Jetta added. "Maybe she thought we'd get our knickers in a twist over it. I don't know, I mean I really don't care if someone's gay just as long as she doesn't hit on me."

"Look, you two!" Roxy had burst out. "Stormer's in trouble! She's gonna get interviewed by those creeps from the Morality Office and she could wind up in jail. And what the hell do we do? We leave her there!" She took a breath. "I don't know what we're gonna do when we get to Chicago, anyway. It's not like we can play our gig without her."

"But what can we do?" Jetta asked. "I don't want to mess with the Morality Office. I don't think we're going to have much of a shot at breaking her out of there."

Roxy turned to Pizzazz. "Bribes tend to work real well," she said. She looked at her friend and was surprised, though, to see the fury in Pizzazz's eyes.

"Goddamn her!" Pizzazz raged. "For lying to us all these years and getting herself arrested. For being a ----"

She flew out of her seat and smashed a fist against the window. The durable plastic material of the window did not break but Pizzazz's fist felt the jolt of pain.

The other passengers looked at the Misfits in stunned silence. For the first time, the Misfits took note of their surroundings: the noise the el train made as it sped into the city, the chattering of the other passengers, the seats with the upholstery in need of repair. A conductor, alarmed by the sounds of a possible altercation, rapidly made his way over to where the Misfits sat.

Jetta assessed the situation quickly and threw Pizzazz a look. `She and Roxy need to understand that now is not the time to pitch a hissy fit!' she thought fervently.

"What's the matter here, ladies?" the conductor asked.

"I'm truly sorry, officer," Jetta replied, flashing him her most fetching smile. She hoped that despite the late hour and the weary, endless day that she still looked as beautiful as she normally did. "My friend's just a bit upset here because she left a suitcase containing her favorite dress behind."

"If it's at the station, you can always call them tomorrow."

"Thank you, Sir. We will be sure to do that," Jetta said, continuing to dazzle him with a gleaming look in her eyes. She knew the effect she had on men.

"Say...you ladies look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Not that I know of."

Jetta and the conductor continued their tête-à-tête, as Roxy watched quietly. Much as she often disliked Jetta, she had to admire her technique. Roxy's instinct would've been to grab the conductor and smash his head against the window. In these times, though, Jetta's approach was much more likely to be the successful one. She tried to squelch her envy. It was not difficult because Roxy had numerous and greater worries to contend with then.

Finally, Jetta got rid of the conductor. She turned to Pizzazz and whispered, placing a hand on the leader's shoulder, "Pizzazz, you have to cool it. We can't get away with some of the things we got away with before - especially not now!"

Pizzazz fumed quietly. Saying 'you're right' was not something she often did. So she just rasped back, "Let's talk about this when we get to the motel." She was trembling with anger.

The three Misfits spent the rest of the el train ride, and the walk to the motel, in stony silence.

*******
Once the trio had reached the motel room, Pizzazz let her rage explode full blast. She picked up her suitcase and hurled it against a wall, letting loose a string of expletives. The suitcase split open upon contact with the wall, Pizzazz's dark clothing spilling out. She proceeded to smash the only painting in the small room, a dull black and white rendition of a single flower. All of the old insecurities were mocking her, all the old feelings of being left and betrayed.

"I hate her!" Pizzazz screamed. "That lying, no-good....look at what she's gotten herself in to! Damn her! Damn her to hell!"

Roxy and Jetta sat on one of the beds, physically and mentally exhausted. Roxy's head was pounding. Neither was up to Pizzazz's histrionics right now. They let her go on for a short while until they could tell she was starting to wind down.

"C'mon, Pizzazz, you don't hate her," Roxy finally said. "Think of everything she's done for this group. She pulled us together after you left us for Riot. She pulled us together even more when you returned."

"Not to mention that she wrote most of the music," Jetta added. "She's a bloody brilliant musician."

Pizzazz crossed her arms. Her face was red, though she was starting to calm down. "Well, how touching...the two of you working together over something."

"Look, we need Stormer," Roxy said plainly. "We realized that once before when she left us. Remember??"

The weeks when Stormer had left the Misfits had been some of the darkest in the band's history. As each day had gone by, it had become more and more apparent that the group simply would not have a future without her. Her absence had been felt in more than just the musical arena too.

"Besides, Pizzazz, what does it matter if she's gay?" Jetta asked. "It's not like she's ever made a pass at any of us."

"But the fact that she never told us," Pizzazz seethed.

"Yeah, well, if I was a dyke I'd have kept it quiet around us too. 'Sides, you know how she is," Roxy said. "She was probably all ashamed about it."

"Or in denial. Maybe she was trying to forget about it. To go straight," Jetta offered.

Beyond the fury she was currently experiencing, Pizzazz couldn't help but to note the irony. Both Roxy and Jetta were giving the even-handed, rational advice that Stormer (at least, the new, confident Stormer) had been giving lately. And Pizzazz was smart enough to listen to their words, despite her sour mood.

She slumped down on the other bed. Pizzazz couldn't bear to realize how much she needed the rest of the Misfits. She had freaked when Stormer had quit the group to record with Kimber. Later, when Roxy had left, she had flown into one of the deepest frenzies she'd ever experienced. And even when Jetta's deception had been found out, Pizzazz had never once considered kicking her out. Whether she liked it or not, whether she could admit it to herself or not, she was bound to these three people.

"So what the hell do we do?" Pizzazz asked, putting her hands over her face.

"Well, I have a suggestion," Jetta began. "First, let's try to get some sleep. We're all knackered and I don't think we can do anything for Stormer right now. One of the guards told me that the Morality Office shuts down for the night anyway. Let's get back out there first thing in the morning. We can hire a taxi."

"Yeah, and what do we do when we get there?" Pizzazz asked.

"Well, Roxy suggested bribery. I don't see that we have too many other choices. How much dosh do we have?" Jetta proceeded to count their money, adding, "Of course we can still get to an ATM if we need more. Then we need to think of a way to get Stormer somewhere safe. I don't know which cities require these blood tests, and which methods of entering a city are safer. We might be able to drive into some cities without having to take the tests."

"And we need to see if there's a way to beat the stupid test," Roxy said, though she had no idea how to even begin finding an answer to that.

"Yes. So does that sound like a good plan for the next few hours?" Jetta asked.

"Fine," Pizzazz mumbled. Her energy had been drained for the night.

Roxy nodded. She hated the way that Jetta was so easily taking the lead with Pizzazz having withdrawn, but she was too tired and too anxious for Stormer's sake to do anything about it. Roxy prided herself on being laid-back but this night the anxiety was feasting on her guts.

Pizzazz groaned, and kicked off her shoes as she got under the covers of the bed she'd taken. Roxy and Jetta looked at each other. "We did book two rooms," Jetta said.

"I wanna stay here with Pizzazz," Roxy said.

"Me too."

They shrugged and decided to share the bed. Jetta turned off the light.

The second she hit the pillow, Jetta knew that she wasn't going to get any sleep - and it wasn't just due to the uncomfortable prospect of sharing a bed with her old rival. The Misfits had been in trouble before, but nothing like this, like what Stormer was in the middle of now. In the past, Pizzazz's money or connections could've gotten them out of any scrape, but this time the whole playing field was so different. Messing with the government could be deadly. What if the bribe didn't work? What if they didn't bribe the right person? What if they landed in jail for attempting to secure the release of a criminal?

Jetta realized that if they couldn't get Stormer back, it would probably be the end for the band. Pizzazz would keep falling apart; Jetta easily recognized that her leader's display of anger was, as usual, really a lot of hurt and pain that she knew no other way to release. Jetta didn't think Roxy would take it too well either. During recent times, it was Stormer who was the calming influence on the band, the one who diffused the fights. Although Stormer wrote most of the song melodies, Jetta knew they could always find another writer - but finding another Stormer would be another matter.

Jetta sighed and shifted position on the bed. She felt Roxy tossing and turning, and knew that her bandmate was wide awake. Jetta herself had been in serious trouble with the band once before, when her lies about her background had been revealed. When she'd joined the group years ago, Jetta had wanted nothing more than to be accepted by Pizzazz and to let her dismal upbringing be a thing of the past. Inwardly Jetta winced at the memories from her past, her callous parents who'd never shown her a scrap of affection, the poverty they'd lived in, the teasing of the other children as they mocked her worn clothing. Pizzazz had swallowed the story she'd woven about her posh background easily. Roxy had never believed her, so Jetta used every chance she could to put down Roxy and attack her meager upbringing. When Jetta's deception had been found out, she remembered her heart sinking to the ground as the panic rose. She remembered wondering what she was going to do; despite all the arguments and Pizzazz's often overbearing personality, Jetta had not wanted to leave the band. She had money, she had enough music business know-how to form her own band. But she had not wanted to leave.

So she'd waited for Pizzazz to tell her to pack her bags, but that never happened. Even Roxy showed shocking restraint by only taunting her with it a few times. On the plane ride home, Jetta had begun to realize that she was not going to be kicked out. But things had been very awkward for her for the months that followed; her place within the group was not where it had been.

'And things will be awkward for Stormer now too, when she returns,' Jetta told herself. `If we get her back.'

Jetta couldn't sleep with her thoughts still racing. At one point she heard Roxy get up and take a shower. She tried to chase away thoughts about how far the Misfits had fallen....staying in a run-down motel, sharing a room - indeed, sharing a bed. `Well, I came up from the bottom once before, I can do it again,' she told herself. Jetta shifted position again but the mattress was sagging and the pillow flat. Her head hurt. She wondered what Jem and the Holograms and the Stingers were up to now. She also reminded herself to make the phone call to cancel tomorrow's gig.

Roxy returned to the bed. Jetta got up to take a shower herself, having abandoned any notion of being able to sleep this night. Pizzazz growled at them for "making a racket", and as Jetta entered the bathroom she heard Roxy tell Pizzazz to shut up.

By the time Jetta's shower was completed, the lights were on and Roxy and Pizzazz were sitting up, talking amicably. "Soon as I take my shower, let's go," Pizzazz said, hoisting herself off the bed. She sounded more in command again.

"What time is it?" Jetta asked.

"3:25 a.m.," Roxy said, glancing at the clock.

Jetta groaned.

Soon, the three women were on the streets, looking for a taxi. They were resolved to bring their bandmate home.

**********
Roxy and Jetta helped me out of the cab. There's no way I could've made it down the hallway to the elevator without them half-carrying me. The ride in the warm taxi- and sitting between two human beings - had helped me thaw a bit but my feet and hands were still numb and I was just shaky and weak all over.

I don't know what possessed me to try to tell a joke, but as we waited for the elevator, that's what I did.

"Hey, we're staying at a place with an elevator! It's a step up from our last motel."

Roxy did her little snort-laugh. I heard Jetta say, "I never saw someone get so excited over a bloody lift."

Unfortunately, the room was a long way down the hall from the elevator. Once we reached the floor, it was another long, clumsy walk for Roxy, Jetta, and myself. I tried to concentrate on taking one step after the other. The hallway's carpet had random stains and was fraying apart.

Pizzazz walked ahead of us and unlocked the door to the room.

Once we got inside the room, there was a bit of an awkward, silent pause. Jetta and Roxy were still supporting me physically.

Finally, Pizzazz said to me, "Are you bleeding?" Her voice was, just as before, direct and straightforward.

The officer had hit me a few times, and at least one area where the skin had been broken was bleeding. "Yeah," I said. "You know, I think I'd really like to have a bath. Could you help me to the bathroom?"

The need to bathe and get all remnants of that man off of me was overwhelming. And I thought that warm water might help my hands and feet.

So my bandmates helped me to the bathroom. Pizzazz even drew the bath for me, after rummaging around her suitcase for some bubble bath. Jetta helped me over to sit on the counter as the tub filled, and Roxy asked, "How hot ya want it?" as she stuck her hand under the faucet. Being fussed over by these three was a new experience. Jetta said she was going to see if she had any band aids (or "plasters", as she called them) with her.

When the tub was full, they asked me if I needed any help. I responded in the negative so they gave me some privacy and left the room. I finally discarded my dirty clothes, gladly throwing them on the floor, and managed to climb into the tub.

I closed my eyes. I was still muddle-headed, sleep-deprived, and in a lot of physical pain. But the body parts that had been numb were slowly coming to life and I thought that maybe I didn't have frostbite. I began to feel warm, began to feel alive again. Despite all the physical discomforts I felt, one thought helped keep me going: they came back for me.

Relaxation set in, and at long last I felt a sense of peace. My head started to feel just a bit more clear. My world may've been in shambles around me, but I was feeling okay.

After a while, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "You gonna be much longer? Pizzazz wants to strategize." Funny thing about Roxy. If you just read those words on paper, you might think how rough they sounded. In fact, even if you heard her say them, you might think that. But with Roxy, often a subtle change in her tone of voice can be very telling. Even the way she knocked on the door was an indicator. I knew she was really concerned about me.

But the problem was, I didn't want to leave that tub. Being immersed in warm water was just heavenly. Every nerve in my body told me to stay put and let the water do its work. "I'm kinda enjoying this bath still. Can we wait a bit longer?" Then an idea came to mind, "You guys could come in here."

I heard Pizzazz say something muffled, and the door opened. "Okay, we'll come in here," Pizzazz said, in her best I'm-doing-you-a-favor tone. As the three entered, Pizzazz then said, "I dunno about this. What if Stormer feels like we'll be leering at her?"

We giggled at her attempt at humor. And I really didn't mind the situation. I was still covered by the water and the perky bubbles. Of course, I did notice the irony. I was naked in front of them, both literally and figuratively now.

"How are you feelin', luv?" Jetta asked. "Did you want any of those plasters?"

"Maybe when I come out," I replied. "I - I'm doing a lot better."

And then I felt that I had to say it, as much as my bandmates disliked this kind of talk and as much as it maybe was not necessary. "Hey, guys, uh....I just want to say thank you. Thanks for bringing me back."

I expected Pizzazz to make another comment about not getting mushy on her, but she didn't. Jetta said, "Think nothin' of it. We wouldn't leave you."

"Nobody leaves The Misfits," Pizzazz said plainly.

"So how'd you get out?" Roxy asked. The rest of the group seemed more at ease now with the change of subject. "We thought they were gonna keep you in a cell over night."

Another awkward moment. I took a breath. "The guard - the one who was with me before - he...he liked me. He told me if I slept with him, he'd let me out." More tension in the room; now I think I even saw some pity in my bandmates' eyes. "So I went through with it."

"Man, that must've been shitty for you, with you bein' a dyke and all," Roxy said.

I nodded. You know, after all these years of hiding, it felt kinda good (despite the awkwardness of it all) to have this fact about me out on the table. Oh, and Roxy's using the term "dyke" didn't bother me. She's just blunt like that with everything. She doesn't sit around and ruminate much about how her words will be taken; she just says (and does) what's on her mind at the time. I knew she truly didn't mean any affront, so I didn't take it as one.

"Yeah, it was pretty awful. That's where I got most of these scrapes from," I said, looking at a nasty gash on my shoulder. "But he kept his end of the bargain. As soon as he was done, he gave me a few seconds to get dressed and then he threw me out the door."

"In the middle of the night, in the freezing cold!" Pizzazz said, and she made her infamous shrieking noise. For a split second, she looked around the bathroom as if seeking something to throw. She settled for just clenching her fists.

I studied Pizzazz. The times I had dared to take a glimpse at her face since they'd come back for me - and there hadn't been many such times - I saw an enormous effort on Pizzazz's part. Holding back her temper and dealing with anger are not her strong points, but that was exactly what she was doing. She was mad. I feared her anger but I also realized that I was not the sole target of it. When she made that comment, I could tell part of her rage was about how I - a Misfit, and therefore an extension of Pizzazz herself - had been treated. Seeing me treated this way enraged her; I think it made her remember the times when she's been put down. It wasn't exactly empathy on Pizzazz's part but, again, that's not her strong suit either. It was probably as much empathy as I would get from her.

Of course, I knew by the same token that she would also see the fact that I was gay as being a bad reflection on her too. I dreaded having to deal with this in the future.

"We were thinking we'd have to bribe them to let you go," Jetta said.

"He promised that he wouldn't file the report on me," I said. "I don't know if he did or not though."

Then there was silence again for a few moments. I was glad to leave the topic of my experience with the officer and I had no wish to recount the ugly details.

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

Pizzazz looked as if she wanted to pace the small bathroom; I could see the wheels in her head begin to turn slowly. "How many dates do we have left on this tour?" she asked.

"I think three or four," Jetta said.

"It's best if we don't play them. We can't risk getting Stormer in trouble with the law again."

"Yeah, like you said, the guy might've filed the report anyway," Roxy said.

"And even if he didn't, we don't know how many cities are gonna have these stupid blood test requirements," Pizzazz added. "We might have trouble getting you in and out of cities."

I began to realize that she spoke the truth. During the last several agonizing hours, I had been focused on my own basic survival - both mental and physical. Now that I was accepting the fact that I would survive, I started to think of the long-term and realized there were minefields in my --- and the Misfits' --- future. The thought that we might not be able to tour again was almost too much to bear.

"We were talking about that earlier," Jetta said, looking at me. "We don't know which cities make you take the test, and we don't know if you can enter some cities by car - like we just did - and not have to take it. We don't know if there's a way to round the test either."

Pizzazz nodded, "And until we know that, we can't risk playing any more dates. We can make up a reason for canceling the shows. Maybe we say that I came down with a bad cold and lost my voice....whoever we make into the scapegoat, it shouldn't be Stormer since we don't want to attract any more attention to her."

I listened intently, somewhat awed by the fact that Pizzazz would offer herself as the "scapegoat" in my place.

"But how do we get back to LA?" Roxy asked.

"However we do it, it's gotta be quicker and easier than driving," Jetta said. "I'd suggest we take one of your Dad's private jets, Pizzazz....but where would they land it here? I don't know if we want to involve any of the aviation authorities."

"I think Daddy got rid of his last plane," Pizzazz said. "He might still have his helicopter though! Yes. I'll call him and see if we can use it."

"Won't the helicopter run out of fuel between here and LA?" Jetta asked.

Pizzazz shrugged. "There's gotta be somewhere it can refuel. I don't think we have any other options. I'll call Daddy."

I considered apologizing to them for the cancellation of the rest of the tour. But I didn't know. An apology in this group is perceived as weakness. (Pizzazz's apology to us, back when she returned from her Riot-obsession to rejoin the group, was a once-in-a-lifetime event). And I knew at some level that none of this was my fault - I can't help it that I have something in my blood or my DNA or whatever that identifies me as a lesbian. I decided that we'd had enough uncomfortable moments today and I wasn't going to apologize.

Pizzazz left the room, followed by Jetta. Roxy paused for a second and made eye contact with me. She looked like she wanted to say something, and I would've loved to hear it. But putting thoughts and ideas together was never her strong point, so she left the room after giving me a vague smile.

*******
Pizzazz waited until much later in the morning to contact her father. She knew he was an early riser, but she had to keep in mind the two-hour time lag between LA and Chicago. When the time came, she made the phone call in private using the second, empty motel room the Misfits had booked. She hated the way her father talked to her, and she would not stand for her bandmates overhearing more of it. They'd heard enough over the years. Pizzazz also knew that she would need to do a fair amount of begging and pleading in this case. Getting Harvey to part with the money such a trip would require would not be easy given the hit the Gabor riches had taken over the last year. Pizzazz knew she could always use her own money if she couldn't get her father to acquiesce.

'Stormer had damn well better realize all I'm going through because of her! She's gonna pay,' Pizzazz thought, though that second sentiment was felt more out of habit than any real desire to inflict revenge on her keyboardist.

When Pizzazz returned to the room, she told the rest of the group that the arrangement had been made and the helicopter would pick them up in the early evening. Harvey had been unable to get his trustiest pilot any earlier than that. Jetta also informed the group that she had cancelled their gigs.

At that point, the need for sleep finally took over. No one had gotten any quality sleep the night before, so the band gladly took the chance to catch up on their slumber.

Several hours later, Jetta and Roxy left the motel in search of food. They agreed to look for some take-out to bring back to the group since no one wanted Stormer to leave the motel, out of caution. "We'll keep a low profile," Jetta promised, as they left.

Before long, the two returned with bags of Chinese take-out and American fast food. Half the group liked Chinese, but the other half wasn't crazy about it. The four ate ravenously.

"Hey Pizzazz," Roxy said, as she chewed, "we passed a bar on the way back here. About two blocks away." She wiped her greasy fingers on a wad of napkins, delighting in every bite of the sweet and sour pork.

"The blokes in there looked okay," Jetta said, shrugging.

No one was surprised that a bar would be populated during the early afternoon. With so many people unemployed, hanging out at bars and drinking cheap beer were quite popular activities. Roxy had recognized that Pizzazz really needed some male....companionship, so she'd peeked inside the bar. Though, as Jetta had pointed out, none of the males they'd glimpsed looked particularly tantalizing, they also knew that Pizzazz wasn't always the most discriminating in this area of her life.

"Hmmmm....I'll have to check it out," Pizzazz said. The prospect of a conquest always did a good job of momentarily chasing away Pizzazz's persistent anger and depression. She devoured her burger more quickly.

When she was finished eating, Pizzazz touched up her hair and make-up, and asked, "Who's comin' with me?" She then added, playfully, "Stormer?"

The group, including Stormer, laughed.

Pizzazz hoped that Roxy and Jetta would decline. Her omnipresent insecurity preferred no competition over the males, and that insecurity mocked her, telling her that her bandmates were younger and prettier. `F--- that; I'm the one with the charisma and the daring,' she told herself. Approaching guys was never difficult for Pizzazz.

"I think I'll pass," Jetta said. She had been less than impressed with what she'd seen inside the bar.

"I'll go with you - why not?" Roxy said, and she tried to not notice the disappointed look on Pizzazz's face.

Not long afterwards, Pizzazz and Roxy were in the bar. Men outnumbered women on this afternoon, and pretty soon the duo were inundated with offers to buy drinks for them. Roxy smiled as she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Pizzazz in her element, the band's troubles momentarily forgotten.

*********
While waiting for the helicopter, I was wondering how things in the band would change. The Misfits had undergone so much change in our internal dynamics, and most of the recent changes had been positive. Would this throw a wrench in the works? My bandmates seemed okay now, all things considered, but over time would they start to show discomfort around me?

I stifled a giggle as I thought back to one uproarious night a few months ago. I hoped it would not be our last such night. After another late recording session, we had returned to the mansion too buzzed to go to bed. So we broke out the margaritas and ended up playing cards. After a few uninspired rounds of Crazy Eights, Roxy said, slurring her speech, "Let's play strip poker!"

I had been too tipsy to get worried, and I thought for sure Pizzazz would nix the idea, but she said words to the effect of, "Sure!" Before I knew it, Roxy was dealing out cards, and Pizzazz was saying, "So whoever loses the round takes off one item of clothing."

After the first few rounds, when I was bereft of socks, Jetta missing a jacket, and Pizzazz without a belt, Jetta asked, "How far does this go?"

"As far as we want it to," Pizzazz replied.

We were all honestly too drunk to care. As soon as strip poker had been selected, I'd redoubled my efforts to down as much margarita as possible.

Later, when Roxy was down to her bra and panties, and she lost yet another round, Jetta cackled, "Here we go!"

Roxy just made a face and removed her hairclip.

"That doesn't count!" Pizzazz cried.

Roxy flipped her the finger.

"Hey, Roxy," I began, "if your hairclip counts as clothing, then next round I lose, can I just take off my mascara?"

Jetta reached over towards a nearby supply cabinet and took out a stack of post-it notes. She proceeded to place a few of them on her face and over her bra. "'ere," she said. "If your hairclip is clothes, then so are these sticky notes."

We collapsed in fits of laughter. The game continued. When Pizzazz was down to bra and panties, she resorted to cheating. She told us that she had a flush, and only Jetta thought to double check Pizzazz's hand. "You cheater!" she exclaimed. Pizzazz had a 3, 4, 6, 7 and 8. "Take that bra off, Zazz!" a very drunk Roxy commanded.

Jetta later tried to cheat as well by taking three cards when she only put down two. Roxy, drunk as she was, caught her in a second and put a stop to that.

When I had just been forced to remove my bra, I jokingly held up two cards, trying to strategically place them over my chest. The others laughed. I got more laughs when I tried to lean down so only my head and shoulder could be seen above the table.

The night was completed just perfectly when Harvey Gabor returned from a business trip on a red eye flight. Talking on his phone, probably with some businessman in Europe, he looked up at the four naked women sitting around the table and muttered, "Good night, ladies," and kept on going. If he'd noticed our condition, he hadn't said a word. As soon as he was out of earshot, we fell over laughing.

*********
That evening, the Misfits were picked up by Harvey Gabor's longtime pilot. The helicopter touched down briefly on the roof of the motel, the four women and their luggage squeezed inside, and the journey back to Los Angeles began.

"Heard you ran into some trouble, girls," the pilot said, as they entered the helicopter.

"Just get us home, Ted," Pizzazz said.

"What did you tell your father?" Jetta whispered once they were in the air. The background noise was louder and Ted could not overhear her words.

"I just said we were in big trouble," Pizzazz whispered back.

"I thought he said that wasn't going to come to our rescue anymore."

Pizzazz rolled her eyes. "Let's just say I had the begging and pleading session of my life," she replied, as much as she loathed admitting what had happened. She stole a quick glance in Stormer's direction. The helicopter was noisy and Stormer couldn't have heard their exchange, but Pizzazz once again thought that Stormer better know what she had gone through on her behalf. Of course, being humbled in front of Jem and the Holograms a few years ago, when she asked Stormer to return to the Misfits, ranked right down there as well. Pizzazz couldn't stand having to grovel. `Stormer can't ever say that I don't give a shit about her,' Pizzazz angrily thought.

Roxy watched Pizzazz and Jetta whisper at each other and felt a pang of jealousy. She quickly brushed aside the ugly memories of how she felt when Jetta had first joined the band and Roxy had found her position in the group usurped. She reminded herself that it was over now, she was once again tight with Pizzazz. Their leader seemed to like Roxy and Jetta about equally now, which was the best Roxy felt she could hope for.

After some time, the pilot landed the helicopter so they could refuel. He had made an arrangement with a small airport. As Ted went inside the airport to talk to the management, the Misfits took the opportunity to get outside of the small chopper and stretch.

"Where are we at?" Roxy asked. She extended her arms in front of her, clasped her hands together and pulled so as to give her back a good, solid stretch.

"Middle of nowhere," Pizzazz answered. "Nebraska or Kansas or some other godawful place. I think my leg's fallen asleep."

Stormer wrapped her scarf around her more tightly. The weather was frosty with a very sharp wind, bringing back memories of the previous, endless night. She was glad for her warm mittens.

Ted exited the building and approached the band. Pizzazz took one look at his face and asked, "What is it?"

"There's going to be a delay," Ted said. He was bracing himself for one of "Phyllis's" tantrums, though having been acquainted with her since she was a child, he was somewhat used to them. He silently thanked his lucky stars that his own daughter was so mild-mannered. "They don't have enough of the fuel that we need."

"I thought you made all the arrangements with them!"

"I did. But I got incorrect information from them. They thought they had it, now they're saying they don't. We're going to have to wait here for a few hours until they can service us."

"Isn't there somewhere else we can go?" Roxy asked, sighing.

"Unfortunately, no. There's not another operating airport close enough that we could safely make it there." He shook his head. "Too bad so many of them have closed." He added, "There's a waiting room inside. I'm going to talk to the manager again."

The Misfits soon found themselves sitting in a small room, with an empty vending machine and several utilitarian chairs for company. Half of the lights were out and one dying light bulb flickered. The floor badly needed to be swept. A few small windows looked out at an airfield which was abandoned, save for one broken-down plane plus the Gabor helicopter.

"The loo is very picturesque," Jetta said, returning from the bathroom to the waiting area. "And they seem to be out of both soap and paper towels," she said, as she shook out her wet hands.

"Great," Roxy muttered.

Pizzazz stood up from her chair, let out a trademark scream of disgust, and sent the nearest object (a chair) hurling across the small room. Her frustration was unleashed. "I can't take this!" she yelled. "F--- all of this!"

"Pizzazz," Stormer began gently, approaching the singer. "It's okay."

"It's not f---ing okay! Two years ago we took a private jet to our concerts! We played at stadiums!" As suddenly as it started, Pizzazz's tantrum seemed to lose steam. The energy to smash more items or scream louder was evaporating. "Now look at us," she said, no longer yelling though her voice contained the omnipresent anger." We're stuck in a pit like this. We don't have a tour anymore. Stormer almost gets thrown in jail. We don't have anything."

Pizzazz wasn't one to cry, but her voice sounded only a few octaves away from doing so. Feeling weak, she sank down onto one of the chairs.

"Oh, that ain't true," Roxy said, getting up to sit next to Pizzazz. She put her hand on her shoulder. "We got our music." She then added, "Okay, that sounds corny but it's true."

"We're all together," Jetta said, sitting on Pizzazz's other side. "All this crap will pass, and we'll be ready when it does!" she said, passionately.

Stormer sat on the floor in front of Pizzazz. "They're right, Pizzazz," she said. Her voice was quiet; she had learned that on occasion she could get Pizzazz to listen to her by speaking very softly. "I know you're frustrated. I think we all are. We just need to see this as a temporary situation. Things aren't working out the way we want them to, but it's just temporary."

"We don't know that things are ever gonna get back to the way they were," Pizzazz rasped.

"Well, then if they don't, we'll adapt," Jetta said. "We will figure out what to do. We're a group of survivors - remember?"

"'Sides, things always work out in the end, one way or another," Roxy said.

Pizzazz nodded, her eyes downcast.

One of the mechanics walked into the room. "Is everything okay in here?" he asked. Apparently he had not been warned about what to expect with the Misfits around.

"Everything's just hunky dory," Jetta smiled.

When he left, Jetta looked back at the rest of the group. Pizzazz had mentioned Stormer's run-in with the law, and she thought this might be a good time to bring up something that she had been pondering. "Hey, Stormer," she began, her voice near a whisper, given that she didn't know when another of the airport's workers might wander in. "Speaking of you almost going to jail, I was wondering something -- were you ever....going to tell us?"

"Tell you what?" Stormer asked. "Oh - uh, the gay thing, you mean?"

Jetta nodded. Meanwhile, Roxy was glad that Jetta had brought it up. She wanted to know more as well, but hadn't been able to figure out when or how to arrive at the topic. Delicately broaching a subject was not Roxy's strong point.

"Well, um, I wasn't trying to keep anything a secret on you guys," Stormer began. Jetta noted that Stormer's cheeks had turned pink. "It's just that....I don't know, I guess I didn't want to deal with it. I kept thinking maybe I'd outgrow it or something."

"So, like, how long have you known?" Roxy asked.

Pizzazz looked down at Stormer, not knowing whether to be upset that she herself was no longer the focus of attention or relieved that the others might forget how truly upset and close to tears she'd been. She decided that the latter was better and listened to Stormer.

"A few years, I guess. It kinda like dawned on me over time." As uncomfortable as she felt now, Stormer also realized that this was a discussion they probably had to have sooner or later. Now was as good a time as any. "You know, I went out with guys but then I'd wonder why I didn't feel anything."

"You must be much sneakier than I thought," Jetta began with a smile. "What with all of us living most of the time in the mansion and yet you managed to get out and date women, and we never noticed."

"Well, I...." Stormer began, "I haven't really gone out with any women yet."

"Really? At all??" Roxy asked, leaning forward.

Stormer looked at her friend and wondered. She knew that Roxy cared for her a great deal - though she didn't show it in a conventional way - but right now Roxy looked like a teenager looking for a juicy bit of gossip. She told herself that maybe that wasn't the case, and maybe Roxy was just surprised at Stormer's revelation.

"Yes, really," Stormer said, smiling. "Like I said, I was just kinda biding my time and hoping this was a phase I was going through or something. I never acted on it. I wouldn't know what to do." Stormer could tell that her bandmates were surprised by this bit of news.

"Man, you must be horny a lot then!" Roxy exclaimed. The group laughed.

Ted walked in, smiling. "Good news, ladies. We'll be ready to go in just over an hour."

"You call that good news, Ted?!" Pizzazz snapped back at him. Roxy stifled a grin because she could tell Pizzazz wasn't really upset. She almost sensed that Pizzazz was reacting this way out of habit. "We shouldn't be sitting in this dump in the first place!"

"Sorry, Miss Gabor. You're right," Ted said, as he swiftly exited the room.

Pizzazz smiled. She silently decided that now she didn't mind this whole Stormer being a lesbian bit. Pizzazz liked for men to find her attractive. She flattered herself with visions of Stormer also falling for Pizzazz's magnetic charms. Not that Pizzazz would remotely want to have any romantic contact with another female. But Pizzazz liked having her beauty and charm noticed. She idly wondered whether part of the reason she'd been so upset upon learning Stormer's secret was because she couldn't understand the idea of anyone who found women attractive not being enthralled with Pizzazz herself.

The Misfits soon found themselves back at the Gabor mansion.

*************
TO BE CONTINUED