MSTing: "Name of the Game"

--- Part 7 of 8 ---

[OPEN ON: Theater.  Gypsy walks back into the theater, without
 Madame Forrester.]

GYPSY: You OK Madge?
MADGE: Still in mourning. I'll recover.
GYPSY: Wait a minute- where's Pearl?
MADGE: Aw, who cares?

>The words dead bodies and suspects rattled in her brain a minute.

MADGE: Like a beebee in a tuna can.

>"I
>thought it was about parking tickets."

[Both moan.]
GYPSY: Not the parking tickets again!
MADGE: Jeez, LEMMINGS have less tunnel vision than this.
[We hear a noise of someone knocking something over off-stage.]
GYPSY: Pearl?
PEARL (dejected, off-screen): Leave me alone!
GYPSY: OK. Madge didn't get exorcised.
PEARL (resentful): Duh!

>
>He chuckled. "Hardly. You think they send out two detectives to pick up
>a parking ticket violator?

MADGE: Well what if she parked on someone's head?
PEARL (off): I oughtta slug you!
MADGE: Eh?

>I work in homicide."

GYPSY: Well, they cut him a check, anyway.

>
>Her brain raced. Surely he didn't think -- or couldn't think -- she had
>something to do with murder?

MADGE: After she'd been so open and honest with him!

>Why would he have come, if he did? "You think
>I killed somebody?"

GYPSY (Logan): If I say yes, will you still ask me to the Sadie Hawkins
   dance?

>Fear was making her voice stiff, and she shook a
>little.
>
>"Do you think I'd be here now if I did?"

GYPSY: If you were down to your last match, and could burn either this 
   story or the master print of "Basic Instinct", which would you 
   choose?
MADGE: Oh, keep me awake all night, why don't you?
[Grumbling, Pearl enters the theater. There is a horned, winged, light 
 blue dragon-demon the size of a koala bear sitting on Pearl's head. It 
 has a long, twining neck that cranes around to review its
 surroundings.]
GYPSY and MADGE (startled): GAH!
DEMON (just as startled, voice a cross between a parrot and 
   Danny DeVito): GAH!
PEARL (wincing in pain, clutching the seat): Guys! Don't scare it, 
   it digs in deeper!

>
>"Then what ---"
>
>He shushed her by putting his hand over her lips. "No work. Don't
> worry, really."

GYPSY (mouth open, at Pearl and her demon): My stars! What happened?
PEARL: Well, I was exorcising the ship and summoning the spawn of 
   infernal darkness and what-not, and how was I supposed to know a 
   pentagram had five sides?
DEMON: Oh great. It's "The Glitches of Eastwick".
PEARL: You hush! (whaps beast with rolled-up newspaper)
DEMON: Ow! Quit it! I got very sensitive skin here! I bruise easy!

>
>"Mike, how can I not think about it?

MADGE (Logan): Well why don't you go play with this nice, shiny button?
GYPSY: Madge! Stop riffing! This is serious.
MADGE (considering): Hmm... Pearl, trying to destroy me, summons a beast 
   from the nether-regions of Styx-
DEMON: Named Scratch!
MADGE: -named Scratch- that gives her pain and torment 'til her 
   dying days.
SCRATCH: Well 'til my soap's on, anyway.
MADGE: I don't really see a problem here, Gyps!
[Pearl moans, clutching her head.]

>What's going on?"
>
>He grinned. "Hey, you called me Mike."

SCRATCH (craning neck to Gyps): It's his name, isn't it?
PEARL: Don't you start!
GYPSY: Hang tough, Pearl! I'll be back!
[Gypsy disappears under the seats.]
PEARL: Well hurry up!  My neck's been through enough today!
   It doesn't need this!

>
>She pushed the palm of her hand into his chest. "Hey nothing.

SCRATCH: Hey, the resentful version of "Hey Paul, Hey Paula"!
PEARL: Shut up!
SCRATCH: Oh, excuse me, Endora! I didn't notice your incantations 
   were from the part of the Necromonicon labeled "Just Kidding!".
MADGE: Calm down, Pearl. Look, join the riffing. It'll take it off 
   your mind. Oh. I meant-
PEARL: I KNOW what you meant! Sadist.

>Is this some
>kind of bizarro undercover thing you're pulling on me?
> Is that why you're here?"

MADGE: Nah, just came for the free Hot Wings. Is that them over there?

>
>He gave her a long look and turned down the charm.

PEARL: Ew, I don't even wanna THINK what that involves.

>"Look, Amelia, all we
>wanted to do this afternoon was ask you a few questions. Nothing you'd
> even need a lawyer for.

MADGE: Does anything really fall in that category anymore?
SCRATCH: Nnnnnnope! WE made sure of that. Heh-heh.
PEARL: Well, you are evil, I give you that.
SCRATCH: Nah, just an amoral schemer, really. I do have my days, though.

>Personally, I thought we were on the wrong track, and
>after the whole dog thing, where you came by yourself to the station, I
>figured why bother.

MADGE: Oh, god help New York if they meet a killer with a GED.

>So no, I'm not spying on you. I'm here because I want
>to dance.

PEARL: Boy, the first draft of "The Turning Point" was a lot different.

>And surprise, surprise, so are you."

MADGE: It's a discotech! She came for the dignified ambiance, Sherlock?

>
>She began to believe him. If he really thought something was up he
> wouldn't be there.

SCRATCH: Yeah, he'd be home in bed with his head beneath the covers!

> They wouldn't let him, she figured. She let him pull her close
>again and said, "Then lunch -- I didn't have to wait for you to finish
>lunch."

[All but Scratch snicker.]
SCRATCH (extending head to Pearl): Was she his waitress?
PEARL: No, just a vapid party girl whose long lost evil twin framed 
   her for murder.
SCRATCH (pulling head back): You're kidding.
PEARL: Nope, that's the story.
SCRATCH (edging head toward the text): Must be one of ours.

>
>"My fault," he said, "I wasted your time."
>
>"Well," she said, "not entirely."

MADGE (Alexa): When you saw my garter, I got to watch you blow beer 
   through your nose.
SCRATCH (laughing): That's funny.
MADGE: Thank you!

>
>A moment of silence broke out between them and she found herself unable
> to stop staring at him, and he at her as they danced, as if trying to
>communicate something they weren't able to form words for.

PEARL (Alexa): My place?
MADGE (Logan): Your place.
PEARL (Alexa): Caveman costumes?
MADGE (Logan): Caveman costumes.

>As the stare
>lasted she was once aware of his closeness to her, their hips moving
>together, his warm presence like a soft afghan she wanted to wrap 
>herself in.

SCRATCH: He better store his presence in a cedar chest then. 
   Moths'll get it.
MADGE: Yeah, you wanna pass that on to your kids one day.

>There was something incredibly solid, and honest about him,

PEARL: Someone who would always be there when she needed someone to 
   lie to.

>and all
>this time she realized he thought she was her sister.

SCRATCH (extending neck to Pearl): Hey, could you guys get the Olsen 
   twins in here? This whole story might warn them of the TV-movie 
   hell awaiting them after puberty.
PEARL: Shush! We don't control any of this. We're prisoners.
SCRATCH: Oh! Oh, THAT explains it! I thought you are all just 
   masochists. Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you.

>Which made her feel
>guilty, and at the same time, wonder just what Amelia was up to that
> the police needed her for questioning.

MADGE: Maybe we have this wrong, guys. Maybe this is just the world's
   longest commercial against stealing cable.
SCRATCH: It has to be worth something to be stealing.

>
>But then the music switched tempos again, sliding into "Rubberband Man"
> and the floor began to fill with craziness again, their moment broken.
> She smiled and he laughed just a bit, like exhaling, and as they took
> a step away from each other for more rigorous dancing Gretchen and
> Freddy flounced over. "Aaaaaaaaay," they announced.

SCRATCH: Sit on it!

>"We found you!"
>
>"Gretchen and Freddy, this is Mike, Mike, my friends."
>
>Mike looked at Alexa a minute

PEARL (commanding a dog): Shake!

>and then stuck out his hand.

PEARL: Yes, good boy!

>"Hiya."
>
>"Ooh, girlfriend, so is this who you were telling us about?" Gretchen
>crowed.
>

MADGE: Wha- She's a funky bad-ass rooster!
PEARL: Old McDonald scored some smack!
SCRATCH (slyly sexy): Oo, cock! That dude'll do!
MADGE (laughs): That's good. Watch the blue stuff in front of 
   Gyps, though.
SCRATCH: Ah, mother hen. Gotcha.
PEARL (resentful): Hey! He is NOT stickin' around!
SCRATCH: Aaaaah, we'll just see about that.

>Alexa blushed.
>
>"Yeah, you'll do!" she told Mike. "How about a dance, then,
>sweetcakes?"

MADGE (Logan): Have you been through booking and delousing?

>
>"Sorry, Gretch," Alexa broke in. "Get your own."

PEARL (Gretchen): Oh right. You KNOW the 24-hour Dumb-As-Post Escort 
   Services are all closed for the holidays!
SCRATCH (laughs): Ha! That's funny. You gals are funny, man. 
   This is fun.
PEARL: Enjoy it while ya can!

>And she winked at Mike.
>
>"Well, if you change your mind...." Gretchen trailed off and melted
> back into the crowd.

MADGE (horrified): The disco laser lights are too powerful! Dancers are 
   melting left and right! Oh, the carnage!
SCRATCH: They're coked-up disco freaks.
MADGE: Oh, right. Carry on with the carnage! Sorry to interrupt!

>
>Freddy held out his hand. "Payup time, lovely, Tweak is on his way."

PEARL: You know, the shocking thing is, at the end, the story reveals 
   Tweakie is really Keyser Soze.
SCRATCH: No!
PEARL: Yes!

>
>Alexa slapped a twenty into his hand.

MADGE: That's enough for- what? The right nostril of a Beanie Baby?
SCRATCH: Ha! Those were ours, too.
PEARL: Will you stop? I don't care!
SCRATCH (head drooping): Sorry.

> "That'll have to do...now scootch!"

SCRATCH: Nah, not really into "scootch"- how about a dooquiri?
MADGE: Or a joon and toonic on the roocks?

>And she waved him off.
>
>"Darling!" he crooned.

ALL (sing): Please be-LIEVE me!

>"Thank you!"
>
>"Payup time?" Mike raised his eyebrows, and his face looked longer than
>usual. "Should I know what that is?"

MADGE: Judging from your burning intelligence, no.

>
>"You don't want to know," she told him. "Work or no work."
>
>So they danced.

PEARL: They danced around Mike's professional responsibilities, the 
   identity of the person killed, and why a rich businesswoman like 
   Amelia would play in sleazy band!

> About a half hour before the club closed, around
>two-thirty, they stumbled, sweaty and more than a little tipsy,

SCRATCH: Another successful meeting of Oprah's Summer Reading Club 
   comes to a close!

>out into
>the early morning cool, and jumped in a cab. The alcohol and workout
> began to overwhelm Alexa,

MADGE: Yeah, slutting is good cardio.

> and she yawned. "Oh, boy."
>
>"You too tired to have me over for a few minutes?" he teased.

SCRATCH (Logan): And I didn't mean to say "over", if you know what 
   I mean. Heh-heh.

>
>Her eyes widened. By two-thirty Amelia wasn't likely to be up, she'd
> have been home ages ago. Or did she say she was staying out all night?

MADGE: Hm, maybe you should read that bit again. It was only- what? 
   143 pages ago?

> Alexa
>wasn't sure. Bringing Mike over was a bad idea,

PEARL: Well it was AMONGST the NUMEROUS bad ideas she's had so far.

>but so was going to his
>place -- she didn't know if she had enough cash to get home by cab from
>wherever he might live.

SCRATCH: Intricate New York subway system? Nothin' but an urban myth!

>And she also didn't know if she was ready to
>actually sleep with him.

MADGE: She might play with him first.

>Sure, playing Amelia, in her garters and high
>heels was fun, but underneath it the real person, Alexa, hadn't slept
>with anyone

SCRATCH (laughs): Oh, right. Alexa, the virgin speed fiend!
PEARL: Sounds like a Christmas story the whole family can enjoy!

>and sure as hell didn't think her first would be with a cop -- oops,
>detective

SCRATCH: Oops.
MADGE: Note she said her first would be WITH a cop, not that it'd 
   BE a cop.
PEARL: Yeah, Logan would just hang around like a chump, and hope she'd 
   talk with him afterwards.

>-- she barely knew. At the same exact instant that those thoughts
>ran through her brain, her instinct began to growl at the thought of
> Mike's just disappearing.

SCRATCH: Meanwhile MIKE'S instincts growl at the thought of stickin' 
   around with this loser.

>They'd been dancing all night, talking crazy talk,

ALL: FURBY!
PEARL (as Furby): Doo, be doo! Be doo, be doo!

>pressed up against each other, holding hands -- constant contact of one
>form or the other, and at some point Alexa had gotten addicted to him.

SCRATCH: Uh-oh. She's got a lunkhead on her back!
MADGE: And that ain't good.

>So
>against her better judgment, Alexa heard herself saying, "I think a few
>minutes would be all right."
>
>"So you danced, you talked, you went back to your place," Ben
>interrupted,

ALL (startled): YAH!
SCRATCH: Whoa, where'd HE come from?
PEARL: The author changes scenes without dividers, and her dividers 
   don't indicate scene changes!

>still not sure whether he was going to send internal affairs after
>Logan.

MADGE: "Law And Order, That Is, Law And Order When We Feel Like It", 
   will return after these messages.

>"And then?"
>
>"I checked to see if Amelia was in, and she wasn't. We had decaf,

PEARL: Decaf! This IS the work of the devil!
SCRATCH: Ha! Thank you!

> and after
>that I don't remember," she told him. "I was tired anyway,

MADGE: Downright narcoleptic!

> and I passed out
>on my couch.

SCRATCH: Oh, and what tale of love and romance isn't complete without 
   the drunken demirep passing out on her evil twin's Ottoman?

> When I woke up, I was on my bed and he'd left."
>
>"Around what time would you say you passed out, Ms. Page?"

MADGE (Alexa): Oh, well as soon as I passed out I made sure to wake up 
   again and check my watch. HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW WHAT TIME I 
   PASSED OUT?!

>
>She shrugged. "I have no idea. We left the club around 2:30, and took a
>cab, so maybe we were home by 3:00, and I probably didn't last more
> than twenty minutes after that.

PEARL: Oh, honey, that's nineteen minutes longer than Logan lasted, 
   I'll tell you what.

> So I guess he left around 3:30 or something.
>That's what I told you before, remember?"

MADGE (Stone): Um, which flashback was that again?

>
>Stone thought. Yes, that jived with what he had already been told.

SCRATCH: But did it jump and wail?

>Only he
>knew Logan hadn't actually left until nearly nine, but that didn't come
>out until much later. "Go on."

ALL: NOOOOO!!!
PEARL (as frantic cop): All right, put the story down! On the ground! 
   Step away slowly!
SCRATCH (as nervous frantic collar): Back off man! I'll write a 
   sequel, so help me!

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