The Anniversary
by Rebecca Immich

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Rupert Holmes, AMC, and various other legal people. I'm only attempting to live up to their standards.

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!

"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. "And 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've got 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 surprised 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 weekly 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, "with out 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?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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's got 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.

As Pruitt left the green room with the gourmet dishes, the WENN gang looked puzzled. "A secret second task?" Hilary said. "I don't like the sound of that."

"When it's Pruitt," Scott said, "you can't trust anything. I bet this is just another con to make us look stupid as we do his bidding."

"Scott," Victor questioned, "why are you so suspicious of Pruitt? I mean, sure, he's only a Nazi sympathizer who tried to kill me, you, and Betty, but what else has he done that's so terrible?"

"What else has he done?" Betty interrupted, her eyes snapping with fire. "Rollie Pruitt has tried in every way that he possible could to--"

The door banged open and Pruitt stepped in. Betty gulped and went on with her sentence. "Rollie Pruitt has done everything that he could possible do to help keep WENN alive. Why, even when I was thinking of working at the 'New Yorker' he took up his typewriter and wrote all the scripts for our programming. Oh, Mr. Pruitt," she continued sweetly, "I didn't even hear you come in."

Pruitt sighed and rolled his eyes. "You've scored enough brownie points, Miss Roberts. I came to inform you of the next task."

"What is it?" Jeff asked eagerly.

Pruitt rubbed his hands together in childish delight. "I want two of you to scale the Himalayan Mountains and get me a sno-cone from the top! If you even reach the top, it will be a long cold walk back. Bwahaaahaaaa!"

Victor and Scott exchanged glances. This could be their chance for escape! "I'll volunteer," Victor said, "as long as Sherwood doesn't have to come with me!"

Pruitt smiled. "Well, I guess it'll be you and Sherwood then. My German friend's private airplane will be here any moment and he will take you to the mountains."

Victor and Scott exchanged triumphant smiles. Pruitt caught a glimpse of them in the corner of his eye. "What is going on here?" he thundered. "Why are you so anxious to leave and freeze to death?" Pruitt thought for a moment. "Oh, bloody hell! How could I be so blind!?! You will sit here while I think up a second task."

Pruitt stormed from the green room. "Nice try," Betty said. "I almost thought for a moment that he wasn't going to see through your deception."

Suddenly, there was a loud pounding from the front door. Scott and Victor cautiously peeked out of the green room door out to the reception area where Mrs. Ectrusan was opening the door as Lester held a gun behind her. "Can't you read?" she snapped. "This station is closed!"

"I'm here for a date!" the mysterious man yelled. "I've waited long enough and I won't be held back any longer! Where is Betty Roberts?"

Scott and Victor closed the door. "Betty," Scott asked quietly, "where you expecting a date tonight?"

"No. I'm much too busy running this station to date anyone," Betty replied, looking puzzled. "Why would any one be here?"

A struggle could be heard from the hallway. "Where's Betty?" someone screamed. "It's another time! I must see her now!" The door to the green room opened and a man came flying though. "Hey," he said from the floor, "where's my picnic basket?" The picnic basket was launched into the green room, the gourmet food splattering over the wall and floors.

Scott leaned over to help the mysterious man to his feet. "Who are y-Doug?" he asked in his most Sherwoodian voice. "What the bloody blue blazes are you doing here?"

Hilary, who was sitting on the couch eating a cherry tart that had landed next to her, frowned. This was enough. Scott Sherwood was stealing one of her best lines. "Skeek Wormwood!" she screamed.

He looked up from his interrogation of Doug. "Oh, sorry Hilary. I guess working with you for so long has helped me pick up such wonderful phrases. It won't happen again."

"You bet your blue bonnet it won't! That's a copyrighted Hilary Booth saying. You owe me ten dollars for using it without permission."

Scott looked aghast. "Ten dollars? Not on your life! And I don't even -have- a blue bonnet!"

Unfortunately for him, Jeff decided that this would be the perfect time to break up the argument between Scott and Hilary. "Oh, Hilary, my darling," he said, "stop fighting and look into my eyes. My dear sweet pumpkin, I do so want to marry you again."

"Jeff," Hilary said angrily, "has living with me for the last ten years taught you nothing? Do you remember nothing about timing that I tried to instill into your memory? Now is -NOT- the time to propose yet again. I am angry and I am not going to be nice if you ask again."

"Well then darling, when is the right time?" Jeff asked sincerely.

Hilary gave a shout of rage, but checked herself before she went on another shoe-throwing rampage. "Not now. Any time later, but not now!"

Meanwhile, Scott had grown disinterested in arguing with Hilary and had returned to interrogating Doug. "Why are you here? Why do you have picnic basket? How did you get past Mrs. Ectrusan and Lester? Does anyone know that we're all stuck here? And how did you get a date with Betty?"

After hearing that last question, Victor had to chime in. "Well, Sherwood, it's quite easy. But let me explain it step by step so that you'll understand. First step: go up to Betty and ask her. Second step: tell her where and when you will pick her up. Third step: --"

"Gentlemen, please," Betty interrupted. "I would appreciate if you would leave my dating life to me. Now Doug, how did you get in the station?"

Doug looked puzzled. "I knocked on the door and convinced those two door-people that I needed to be let in. They threw my picnic basket and me in here. And here I am." Doug got down on his knees in front of Betty. "Oh, my darling," he said sweetly, "I have so much to tell you. First of all, I love you! And I don't care how many people know. I have worshipped you from afar, but I cannot hold my silence any more. Marry me!" He produced a small velvet box and opened it to reveal an enormous diamond ring.

"If she turns you down," Gertie said, eyeing the ring, "I'll marry you!"

Betty looked at Doug, awestruck. "Oh dear," she said. "I was afraid something like this would happen. I can't marry you Doug because..."

"Because what?" Doug asked.

"Yeah, why?" Scott chimed in.

"Betty, what are you saying?" Victor questioned.

Betty took a deep breath and continued, "I can't marry you because..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“When we last met in radio station WENN,” a loud voice boomed from the ceiling, “Doug had just proposed to Betty. She had just started to reject him, saying that she couldn’t marry him because…”

“What was that?” Scott asked. He shook his head and looked slightly confused.

“Ouch!” Doug said as he pulled himself up from the carpeting. “It feels like I’ve been kneeling for a few months! Now, Betty, what was that you were saying?”

“I can’t marry you because,” she paused dramatically, “I’m in love with someone else.”

“WHO?” everyone yelled.

“Well, if I told you, would that be any fun?” Betty asked. “I’m sick of being treated like my life is an open book. And I’ll just let you all know, it’s someone who works at this station.”

Scott smiled confidently. Now he finally knew Betty’s real feelings for him. All the hard work and lower wages that he had suffered through to be near Betty was finally paying off! Now all he had to do was to get her to admit it was him that she loved.

Meanwhile, Victor also appeared quite sanguine. Finally, he thought to himself, Betty had realized the depth of his feelings for her and was reciprocating them. Well, now all he had to do was get her into a quiet spot so she could confess everything to her…and then he could give her the diamond ring that was in his jacket pocket! As Sherwood would say, very exciting!

Gertie looked annoyed. “Betty, I’ve had enough of your wishy-washy feelings towards these two fine gentlemen,” she said, gesturing at Scott and Victor. “I think you should share these feelings with all of us – and get the guessing over with!”

Betty looked confused. “What on earth do you mean, Gertie?”

The door opened with a bang. “What is going on in here?” Pruitt bellowed. “I have had enough of your shouting! I’d like to know what is going on in here NOW!”

“Well,” Jeff began to explain, “Betty was finally going to make up her mind about who she loves, Victor or Scott. Personally, I’m rooting for Scott. They’re such opposites – they’ll end up balancing each other out, just like Hilary and I do.”

“Don’t you mean DID?” Hilary asked. “I don’t think we’re still married. Something about a tramp that you married in London kind of canceled the whole thing. And I personally think that Betty would be better off with Victor. He’s a much more sensible man – she won’t have to worry about -him- running off with another woman.”

“Thank you Hilary,” Victor said. Turning to address Betty, he said, “Betty, I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how I feel about you. Remember that day when I left for London when you tried to ask about what would happen to us?”

“Of course Victor,” Betty said. “That was a day that I shall never forget.”

“Hey Betty,” Scott said. “I -have- told you how I feel about you how I feel about you. Or don’t you remember that day in the green room?”

“Scott,” she said soothingly, “I will always remember and treasure that day. That was the first time that a man had ever tried to save me from being shot.”

“Well then,” Victor said, “who do you love?”

“Yeah! Betty, who do you love?” Scott asked.

“Well, I do love both of you, but one more than the other. I really love…”

Pruitt, who was still standing in the doorway, began to make gagging noises. “This is all too hokey,” he said. “Miss Roberts, we DO NOT care about who you love. In fact, for the secret second task, I want you to—“

CRASH! A red haired woman emerged from the ceiling, landing on Victor. She quickly got up and pointed a gun at Pruitt. “Gotcha, Pruitt!” Maple triumphantly declared. “I’ve already tied up Mrs. Ectrusan so there’s no escape now!”

“Thank God you’re here, Maple,” Mackie said.

From the chair, Doug said, “Maple, I thought you were coming right after me!” He sighed heavily. “This plan took months to put together.”

“Plan?” Betty asked. “What do you mean by plan?”

“Did I say plan?” Doug asked innocently. “I only meant, ummm…”

Scott’s jaw dropped. “I must have been blind not have seen this. Doug was the mastermind behind Pruitt! He must have tried to take over the station to get closer to Betty! And Maple!” he exclaimed, whirling around to look at the gun-wielding woman. “I never thought that you would be a part of such an evil scheme.”

“But Scotty!” Maple whimpered. “I was only doing it for true love. Doug really loves Betty, you know.”

Victor stroked his chin, contemplating the events that had just been revealed. “And Doug must have quite a lot of money if he was able to hire Pruitt and everyone to do his bidding.”

“Well, of course I have a lot of money,” Doug said indignantly. “When my grandfather died, I was left with his entire fortune. Then of course, I invested it, cleverly profiting from the Great Depression, and tripled his measly twenty million dollars.”

“Doug!” Hilary exclaimed. “You’re worth sixty MILLION dollars?”

“Why do you think I like doing charity work? Now Betty,” he said, pulling out his own gun, “it’s time for you to accept my proposal.”

“Doug, I can’t accept your proposal. Like I told you, I love someone else.”

Doug sighed in frustration. “I have had enough of this wishy-washy behavior on your part! You will either accept my proposal or I will kill you!” He pointed the gun at her.

Maple, who was still pointing the gun at Pruitt, suddenly lashed out with her leg and kicked Pruitt in the head, knocking him unconscious. She whirled around and pointed the gun at Doug and said, “Doug, I thought you really loved Betty. But since you are willing to kill her, I don’t think you really love her. Now you will drop the gun or -I- will shoot you.”

“Maple,” Doug whined, “I do love her. Why else would I want to protect her from these…these…cretins!”

“You don’t deserve her, Doug,” Maple said firmly. She lashed out again with her long leg to kick Doug in the back of the head, knocking him to the floor unconscious.

“Why Maple!” Betty exclaimed, staring at Doug’s unconscious form on the floor. “I never knew that you could do that to people.”

Maple blushed. “Well, I got some advice from a kid that used to hang around at the Crimson Follies. Marlon something or other. He says that we should research our parts. After I got the part of Judo Judy, I thought that I should learn judo so that I sound more convincing. Plus it’s a lot of fun!”

Pruitt, who was beginning to wake up, lifted up his head and groggily replied, “And it’s painful.” His head fell back to the green room floor as he lost consciousness again.

“Well, it looks as though all’s well that ends well,” Betty said.

“I definitely agree,” Hilary said. “I’m going home.”

“Can I come with you?” Jeff asked eagerly.

“No,” Hilary boomed. After noticing the hurt look on his face, she said more softly, “But you would be darling if you would get me a cab.”

Jeff jumped up from the couch and ran to the elevator. “Well, Hilary,” Gertie said dryly, “I guess you’ve got a servant willing to do your every beck and call now. Perhaps he can answer your fan mail instead of me.”

Hilary looked slightly amused at Gertie’s comment. “I guess that is true. Well, I guess I’ll have to exploit it while I can.” She left the green room and headed for the elevator.

“I don’t know about you all, but I think we should call the police and try to explain what has happened here,” Mackie said, heading for the switchboard.

“Mackie, wait up!” Gertie said. “You can’t touch my switchboard!” She ran after him.

Mr. Eldridge smiled at Betty. “Well, now that you’ve made up your mind, perhaps you should tell the proper gentleman. C’mon, Mr. Foley and Eugenia, let’s go.” The group exited from the green room, leaving Betty, Victor, and Scott alone in the green room.

“Well, Betty, what is your decision?” Victor asked.

“Oh, would you look at the time?” she said, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got to be at the hair salon in ten minutes. I’ll talk to you gentlemen later.” She left the green room quickly, avoiding their questioning glances.

“She sooooo wants me,” Scott said. “Notice how she used my favorite phrase?”

“I don’t think so, Sherwood,” Victor replied. “She only used your favorite phrase to get out of here quickly. She smiled at me before leaving the green room…”

As the duo began to argue over the hints Betty had given them, the sun set on the fateful anniversary day.

THE END.

The Writer's Room | The Green Room