Meanwhile, back at the rink, which had thankfully emptied out of all but Marina and Brian, Marina was still waiting for Brian to answer her.
"Well, what will it be? Will you help me or not?" she asked.
- Rep Power
Patrick instantly felt at home in Chemnitz. Frau Mueller was almost as old as Osborne Colson, peace be upon him. Although they had to communicate via Google Translate, and although Patrick had already gained three pounds thanks to Eisbock, Schnitzel and Berliner, and although Tess's career was pretty much destroyed by the move, it was good to have a coach who insisted on being called Frau. Authority and age were so inspiring, Patrick felt. In fact, he and Frau Mueller decided that his Olympic free skate would be to the prehistoric sound of aboriginal didgeridoos!
Meanwhile, back in Detroit, Brian said Non, and ran off to find and help his dear Maman. Marina was troubled briefly, but at least she now had a little peace to continue building her grand plan to seize control of Detroit.
Last edited by Spun Silver; 03-31-2013 at 07:15 AM.
Marina may have found true peace in Detroit, but the peace that Maman Joubert felt was purely the result of of psychotropic drugs. The psychiatrists encouraged her plan to get revenge on Marina only because it kept her occupied and out of their hair. And from complaining about the hospital food. Really, that woman was too much! Why, just this morning she had thrown a hissy fit because there were no croissants! But now that she was heavily medicated AND wearing a straightjacket, Maman could barely mutter "Ma petite Joubidoo", much less carry out any scatterbrained plans.
"Joubidoo, I will destroy her! Zee Russian woman is eville!" she bleated
"Oui, Maman," said Brian dutifully. The psychiatrist had told him to agree with whatever his maman said.
"I must go now, Maman. Au revoir!" he said.
"Where do you go, my Joubidoo?"
"Back to the rink, Maman, Marina is waiting for me. I must give her my answer"
"I forgot the question, ma petite! But what is your answer?"
"I will tell her...............
Last edited by Marge_Simpson; 03-31-2013 at 08:05 AM.
"You're going to do what?"
"I will make sure Mr. Cinquanta is on the next season of Fort Boyard," Brian explained to Marina, "he will be too busy with rats and snakes to bother you. Or the synchro teams."
"My dear boy, do you really think Speedy is unfamiliar with rats and snakes?" laughed Marina. "It will slow him down not at all!"
Their clandestine meeting was interrupted by Nathalie Pechalat, disguised in a fur coat in an attempt to pass herself off as Tatiana Tarasova.
"What is it with everyone and the Tarasova disguise?" demanded Marina. "Oh, never mind. What do you want?"
Nathalie looked about, clearly trying to make sure that she would not be overheard: "Our federation is useless," she began, and Brian nodded, "we must look out for ourselves. If you will politik for Fabian and me, I will share with you my carefully considered and meticulously researched plan to get rid of Speedy. It is part of my secret Master's thesis, you see..."
"Well you better explain this thesis quick, Nathalie!" an exasperated Brain said. "I 'ave to get back to zee hospitale to check on Maman in a few hours before her Seroquel wears off they give her nightly Clonopin and Ambien for ze sleep."
"My goodness, how many medications is your crazy mother on?" inquired Nathalie. "If only athletes were allowed to take such things, with Ritalin and Xanax, my dear Tomas could have been World Champion by now, instead of..." her voice trailed off, distracted by Marina, who was suddenly itching all over. "Oh no! Marina, do you have ze mumps? Shingles? Ebola virus? Do you need to go to ze hospital with Brain's Maman?"
Marina let out a groan, which no one heard as Florent Amodio skateboarded into the rink carrying a boombox blasting Brazilian rap music...
Marina slumped to the floor, itching like crazy, then passed out.
"Bonjour mes amies!" Florent chirped, as he slid to a stop in front of Brian and Nathalie.
"Que faites-vois ici?" demanded Brian in a snotty tone. Really, Florent was the most juvenile, annoying creature.
"Pratiquer mon nouveau programme!" he said, with a cheeky smile.
"Sur une planche a roulettes?" asked Nathalie Privately she wondered if Florent had fallen headfirst off the skateboard and concussed himself. Surely he wasn't planning to take the skateboard out on the ice, was he?
"Oui!" said Florent. "C'est ma nouvelle strategie."
"Vous etes fou!" sneered Brian.
"Parle pour toi, ta mere est a l'hopital psychiatrique!" laughed Florent.
Brain lunged at Florent, but Nathalie quickly got in between the two. "Ce ne fait rien," she said. "Pouvez-vous nous aider dans notre plan?"
Florent looked intrigued and said, "Ce plan est ce?"
"Pour se renger de Speedy!" Brian told him.
"Oui!" agreed Florent. "Il est degoutant! Il est un animal!"
"Bon!" smiled Nathalie. "Vous l'appeler et lui dire............."
Fantastico! said Speedy who had meanwhile choreographed a routine for the synchro team to the music of O Sole Mio interspersed with pieces from Tosca. Instead of all those line routines weaving in and out, le farò andare in un cerchio il piu veloci possibile! in a circle! as fast as possible.....Questo è il nuovo synchro! sono sicuro che ai giapponesi piacerà!
Over in Chemnitz, a lonely and bored Tess Johnson ran into Aliona Savchenko while out shopping. Discovering that they had much in common, the two decided to go into business together, with their very own skating fashion line and boutique.
"Just think how much we will save on fabric with my designs!" said Aliona, as the two brainstormed their debut collection.
In almost no time at all, their first customer showed up...
It was Johnny Weir, exclaiming how much he adored Savchenko's design work. And he said he didn't mind the use of very little fabric suggested by Aliona and Tess, but he *definitely* wanted some fur in there, somewhere, wherever, for his new Lady Gaga program. "Perhaps on the corseted portion of the costume?" he suggested.
Aliona and Tess gave each other a long, meaningful look. "Johnny," said Aliona slowly. "I'm not sure that will be feasible. You see. . . "
"I do not wish to be responsible if, uh, something goes wrong. What do you Americans call it? Ah yes, I remember... Wardrobe malfunction."
"But I want fur! I want fur! And I want it right here!" Johnny pointed to the designated spot of his anatomy.
Katarina Witt was standing just outside the door-- she had decided to check out this new boutique. But when she heard Johnny's words, she thought he was talking about...
Meanwhile, back at the rink, Marina woke up and slowly got to her feet, with a scowl on her face. She was still scratching herself, however, so Brian, Nathalie and Florent were reluctant to offer her a hand.
Marina's scowl increased as she looked at them. "You are rude, selfish skatinas who do not help a damsel in distress! I am unconscious but I hear you babble in French. You have plan to destroy Speedy, I understand that part. Now, tell the rest! In Eeenglish!"
"Err, I said Hello my friends" offered Florent. "And then Brian asked what I was up to, so I explained that I was I was practicing my new program. Nathalie asked if I was doing it on a skateboard and I said I was. And then Brian said I was crazy!" he scowled.
"Eys," added Nathalie. "And then Florent insult Brian, and say that he should speak for himself, his maman is in a psychiatric hospital. And Brian try to hit Florent, but I stop him, even though Florent is being not very nice. And I say never mind, will you help us with our plan to destroy Speedy. So Florent agrees, and I tell him to call Speedy and say...........
When Katarina overheard Johnny as she stood outside the boutique she thought that Johnny wanted a fur rug to pose nude on just like her playboy pictorial. She thought that would be a good plan to increase skating viewership so rushed to the rink to tell Marina about it. Marina on the other hand thought it would be the perfect plan to get rid of Speedy, so she pretended to take Katarina seriously even though she secretly thought she was nuts...
Nathalie stomped her foot, which was encased in a very expensive, very chic leather boot, and proceeded to throw a hissy fit.
"Assez!" she shouted. "Enough! Silence, all of you. There are too many people running around. Here at zee rink, there in zee boutique, eez too much!"
Marina, still scratching herself, sneered at Nathalie and said, "Nyet! Who die and put you in charge? I am in charge, da!"
"Nyet!" said Florent. "Nathalie is correct. And you have zee contagious disease, you must go to hospital with Brian's maman!"
"Oui!" agreed Brian. "You are too bossy!" He beckoned to an EMS technician who had suddenly materialized in the rink . "Over here, oui! Zees woman has horrible disease, take her away!"
"Nyet!" insisted Marina. "Is just my allergy."
"Yes!" insisted Nathalie. "She has zee plague!"
The EMS man loaded Marina on a stretcher and took her away, despite her screaming protests.
"Bien!" said Brian. "Now eez just the three of us here, and we take care of zees bozo Speedy."
"Which means what?" asked Florent.
Nathalie whipped out her cellphone and quickly punched in a number.
"Which means.....I call Speedy now! You talk to him and say what we agreed before!" She handed him the phone with an eville grin.
"But, but..." sputtered Florent.
"Ciao!" said Speedy in an irritated voice. "Che e questo? Speak up, I am a busy man!"
"Is, is, Florent Amodio," squeaked Florent.
"You! Whatsammatta you, why you bother me, eh?"
"I called to say.........."
(Florent did NOT call to say "I love you")
Last edited by Marge_Simpson; 04-05-2013 at 09:06 AM.
..."You must politik for zee French skaters and make sure we get zee medals at Olympics," squeaked Florent. Feeling braver, he continued, "And then you must retire. Oui! You will do zees or you will be sorry!"
"Pasta fazool! Never!" shouted Speedy. "YOU will be sorry you threaten me, si! I politik against you and you don't qualify for Olympics. Ha!"
"Mais non!" Florent was beginning to enjoy this. "If you don't resign on your own, we make you resign from zee disgrace, Oui! We have zee photos!"
Speedy broke out in a cold sweat. What photos could that scrawny bambino be referring to? He couldn't possibly have photos of the time he had....no, no, it was not possible. The little twerp was bluffing, he was sure of it. He would be sorry he had ever dared to speak to the great and powerful Speedy. Ha! But wait. Florent had said "we" had photos. Who else was he conspiring with?
"Basta!" said Speedy. "Enough! Who is with you, eh? I put out a contract on all of you, si! But first, I force you to volunteer at Olympics - as the flower girl!"
"Noooo!" howled Florent.
"Si!' shouted Speedy.
Natalie quickly snatched the phone from Florent. "Ooh la la, Mr. Speedy. We have zee photos of you dressed like zee woman. If you do not resign, we post them on zee web!"
Speedy recognized Nathalie's voice and began to sweat alarmingly. How could she possibly know he was creeping around in the rink, posing as Tatiana Tarasova? Wasn't she back in France?
Brian got impatient, waiting for Speedy to respond, and grabbed the phone from Nathalie. "Oui, we have zee photos! And we cause zee scandal for you!"
Speedy's blood pressure skyrocketed. Joubert was plotting against him, too? He'd force that pitiful mama's buy to work as a flowergirl, too. And he'd make him wear a tutu while he did it. That would teach him a lesson, all right. "You!" he screamed. "Joubert, you are a disgrace. You have no photos and I make you sorry! I sue you for libel! How could you have my photos, eh?"
Nathalie took the phone back. "We are on zee other side of the rink, Mr. Speedy," she said sweetly. "You wear such a horrible wig, tant pis! I think we post zee photos on zee web right now!"
"No, wait!" begged Speedy. His goose was cooked. Shit!. He'd have to do what they said. Unless.....
Last edited by Marge_Simpson; 04-12-2013 at 08:41 AM.
Speedy stumbled out of bed, horribly hung over. "Mamma mia!" he gasped, catching sight of himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and watery, and his toupee was askew. He bore a distinct resemblance to a ferret. A dead ferret, in fact. he never should have drank all that grappa the night before.
"Oh, mio dio!" he moaned, as he made his way to the kitchen. A double espresso would sort him out and he'd look like his suave, slimy self again.
.The espresso was strong and he began to feel almost normal. He swore he'd never drink an entire bottle of grappa in one go again. Suddenly, though, he shuddered, as he recalled the dreams he'd had in his drunken stupor. "Che diavolo!" he shouted. He hadn't been dreaming - he'd had horrible nightmares! His hands shook as he tried to remember them. He'd been mincing around, dressed as a woman! Was this a message from his subconscious? Trembling violently, he remembered more of the nightmares. He'd been blackmailed by that mamma's boy Joubert. And that annoying, whining Amodio! They had tried to blackmail him. Him! The great and powerful Speedy.
Speedy moaned and let out a sob, before getting a grip on himself. He was acting like a fool and needed to straighten himself out at once. "Basta!" he said. "Enough, I had some silly dreams, but they mean nothing. Ha! I will drink my espresso and eat a pastry, and I will be the magnificent Speedy as usual. Si!"
Chuckling, he went to fetch the newspapers off the front doorstep. He reached for his copy of the "Italia Enquirer" first. It was a sleazy rag, full of stories about people who'd been abducted by aliens and women who gave birth to babies with four heads. But it gave him a laugh.
He froze with shock as he looked at the front page.
There was a picture of himself, wearing a fur coat, high heels, and a cheap wig. And lipstick!
The headline said: SPEEDY'S SECRET LIFE AS A TRANSVESTITE!!!!!
Just then the phone rang. Hands shaking, he picked it up and said, "Pronto! Who is this?"
A voice replied, "Ciao, Speedy! It is............."
...."Sal Monetti! Sono un giornalista del Corriere della Sera!"
Speedy moaned and clutched the kitchen table for support. Had the mainstream press already gotten wind of his photo? This was not good news. In fact, it was very bad news indeed.
"Err, umm," he sputtered, frantically trying to think of what to do.
"Puoi commentare la tua foto?" asked Sal.
No, he did not want to comment on the photo! He wanted to drink another bottle of grappa and pretend that last night never happened."Andare all'inferno!" he shouted.
"E molto provocative!" said Sal.
"Io non sono un transvestite!" Speedy shouted, praying that this stronzo would hang up and leave him alone.
"Si tratta di una di charazione politica?"
A political statement? wondered Speedy. What was this buffoon on about? Then Speedy thought of all the fuss about Putin's anti-gay laws and the upcoming Olympics. Perhaps he could get himself out of this compromising situation!
"Si!" agreed Speedy. "Io sostengo diritti dei gay! Putin e un pazzo!"
"Fantastico!" cried Sal.
Speedy was unable to shut up and declared, " Mi vestiro come una donna in Russia!" before hanging up.
"Cosa e successo?" Speedy wondered. What had just happened? He'd told a reporter that he was making a political statement by dressing up as a woman. That was certainly better than being accused of being a transvestite - or being blackmailed by that wuss, Amodio - but what had he gotten himself into in return? He'd just told the man that he supported gay rights and Putin was a fool. And he, the great and powerful Speedy,would wear a dress to Russia.
"O dio mio" he moaned. "Grappa...grappa...I need grappa!"
Just then the phone rang again.
The voice at the other end belonged to.........
Evgeni Plushenko, who had immediately heard about Speedy's protesting of Russian gay rights from Twitter and knew he was the perfect person to help him stage a coup against Putin. After all, Plushenko could become the leader of Russia if it worked, and who WOULDN'T give the Olympic Gold to the leader of the home country? He could finally get what he deserved from Vancouver.
Plushenko's plan involved getting as many figure skaters and their coaches involved in a protest against Russian gay rights. He had already tried to talk to Johnny Weir, but he was too distracted by whether or not Aliona had put the right amount of rhinestones on the left leg of his new costume. But if he could get others, then Putin will be taken down and Plushenko could become the new leader and therefore the new Olympic gold medalist. It was brilliant!
Plushenko was taken out of his thoughts, though, when Speedy replied...
"Looka behind-a you behind-a, you horse-a-behind-a Plusho-shoosh-o." Evgeni spun around (leg in Biellmann) to see a full squad of Speedy's henchwomen, led by Skary Babs.
"We keedanappa you, Plusho-busho-bomba-sexa!" declared Babs. "Speedy! We gotta heem where-a we wantsa!" Several spaghetti-stained Italian grannies kicked Evgeni's legs while Babs snapped handcuffs round his ankles and footcuffs (?) around his hands.
"Now we fly-ya you to Indiana!" squealed Speedy gleefully. "You-a trade-a place weetha defunk-a bastaballa player born-a eena nine-a-teen and feefty-seex!" Evgeni had no idea what was going on.
Alex Shibutani, however, with his avid attention to Boston sports, knew that something was wrong when watching Russian Nationals online. "That's not Evgeni!" he gasped, grabbing the arm of his sister who sat next to him on the couch.
"Ow!" yelled Maia, who quickly grabbed a throw pillow and whapped Alex in the face. "So who is it, then, sibling?"
"It's Larry Bird!" groaned Alex. "He can't possibly skate this short program! It's got 4 quads in it!"
having a nice day
- Rep Power
But little did the shib sibs realize that since his retirement in 1992 it had always been larry joe's dream to win another Olympic gold medal. They also never knew about all the years he spent practicing 3pointers on the points of 2 thin blades. Eys few knew that larry bird was a sekret figure skater par excellance. But the world was about to find out...
12-12-2013, 04:46 PM
Phil Hersh, always hot on the trail for rumors, phoned Bird's former teammate Kevin McHale. "I heard you are training for the Irish Men's Figure Skating Championship, coached by Kevin Vanderperren," accused Hershie.
"What the hell are you talking about?" yawned McHale.
"Well, you want to beat Larry, don't you?"