Dedicated to Jennie, Biz, and Jess. Merry Christmas!

"And that is how you can get soup stains out of your husband's work jacket," Enid announced. Eugenia played a triumphant chord behind her. "And now we move on to that great debate -laundry. Best at the beginning of the week or the end? For the expert opinion, we turn to Miss Hilary Booth. Miss in name, but not in station in life."

Enid turned around in a circle and held her hand briefly over the microphone. "Also missing in here," she hissed to Eugenia. "Ah, but Miss Booth has weighed in on the subject by going off to do her and Mr. Singer's laundry now. On Tuesday morning. Obviously, therefore, advocating for the start of the week, rather than the end." She shrugged helplessly to Lester in the control room. "If I was a betting woman, which I'm not, but if I were, I would bet that Miss Booth is a fan of Goosedown Soap Flakes as much as they are a fan of her. What better laundry...."

***

"But Hilary," Jeff protested as he tried to follow her through the doorway into WENN. He reflexively stopped the door before it slammed in his face and continued without missing a beat. "It's Ch-" He swallowed his words and looked around warily for Mr. Pruitt. "It's that time of year. Where things hang on the ceiling and you're supposed to kiss under them. It's custom. It's tradition!"

"You already used that excuse. Yesterday, as I recall. So permit me to reuse my own response - so is wearing a blindfold in front of a firing squad," she snapped.

"Hilary," Jeff said, ingratiatingly.

"Jeffrey," she said coolly.

"Hilary."

"Jeffrey! Miss Booth! Where have you been?" Enid asked, her head poking through the doors to Studio A. "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago. There's only so much that can be said about laundry, you know. Eugenia is playing some ice skating music now, but Miss Booth, you need to do your recipes!"

"My audience awaits," Hilary said, turning her back to Jeffrey and sailing through the doors.

***

"Scott, I have to admit, that was a nice idea," Betty said. "Having a late breakfast, early lunch at O'Malley's. It's just a shame we couldn't all be there. At once, I mean." She sat down at the table in the Green Room.

"Pruitt can take the Christmas out of the station, but not out of us," Scott said. "Or something like that, at least."

"Yes, well, it was fun. And Eugenia! How nice that she was able to join us for a short time. And then play organ so Maple could come to the party. It worked out so well!"

"And Pruitt never suspected a thing," Scott said, satisfied.

"Where is the old windbag, anyway?" Betty asked.

"Why, Betty, language!" Scott grinned. "He's in my office, still, listening to the broadcast to make sure we don't do anything Christmassy. I swear, I never saw him look so happy as he did at our misery taking down the decorations this morning."

"He's a real Scrooge, that's for sure," Betty agreed. "On that note, I need to get back to work. I have a few more shows to write for this afternoon. I think Hilary and Mackie will be wanting their scripts soon."

***

"Hey there, Scotty!" Maple said as she and Mackie half carried, half dragged Mr. Foley into the lobby of WENN.

"Hey, there," Scott said. He put down his mail. "You all right, Mr. Foley?"

Mr. Foley lifted his head and nodded wearily.

"Someone had a little too much e-g-g-n-o-g," Maple stagewhispered. "He just needs a little rest in the Green Room, don't ya, Mr. Foley?"

Mr. Foley's head slumped again. Scott followed the trio through the doors to the Green Room, where Mr. Foley was unceremoniously dumped onto the couch.

"I didn't think there was even any rum in the drinks this morning," Scott said.

"There wasn't," Mackie said. "It was the sugar. He would not stop talking the entire way back. He finally ran out of steam in the elevator. Is Betty in her office?" he asked. "I need to see if she finished the script for Passionate and Pretty yet. It's on in five minutes."

"She's working on it," Scott said.

"Wonderful," Mackie said, and left.

"Mapes, I'm stumped," Scott said.

"What we're going to do to earn back all the money we lost by not doing our Christmas broadcasting?" Maple asked, eating a cookie.

"No, what to get Betty for Christmas. Even with this extra time, I am stumped. What would you want?"

Maple shrugged. "I already got what I wanted, Scotty. I asked Gil Martin out. We're gonna be flying like the reindeer tonight. But, hey, you know, like Errol Flynn once -"

"That's it!" Scott snapped his fingers. "Thanks, Mapes. I'll catch you later."

"Sure thing," she called after him.

***
"Betty Betty Betty!"

"Why are you so cheery?" Betty asked, not looking up from her typewriter.

"No reason." Scott leaned against Betty's desk. "Did you talk to your folks yet?"

Betty stopped typing and looked up. "I called them this morning. My dad's disappointed that I won't be there, but he and Mom have promised to save me some of Aunt Edna's mincemeat pie. And we'll go sledding whenever I get home."

"Sounds like you have it all worked out," Scott said.

"I suppose so, yes," Betty agreed.

"Oh, Betty, will you please go talk to Hilary?" Gertie rushed in. "Betty, the switchboard will just not stop. Hilary was doing a recipe for pumpkin pie, and then Jeff came in. At first, it sounded like she wanted the audience to put a fork in Jeff, but then it sounded like she wanted to do something else to Jeff. A minister just called to say he was praying for their souls. Again!" She noticed Scott. "Oh, and Mr. Sherwood, Mr. Capwell has been calling. He wants to talk to you about tonight. Betty, please, take care of it!" She rushed out of the room again.

"Duty calls," Betty sighed. "I'm sure Mr. Capwell is calling to remove their sponsorship as well. He probably heard Bedside Manor this morning."

"I don't know, Betty, I think Capwell Pesticides and Crop Dusters might just be our new best friends," Scott said, grinning at her.

***
"Mr. Capwell! Scott Sherwood here. Sir, do I ever have a proposition for you..."

Notes: Let me tell you - not easy writing a story that has barely a three hour window. If that! This is nestled snugly in between Bedside Manor and Betty and Maple's conversation in the hallway where they discover how they can do their Christmas shows anyway.

What the girls asked for in their story: someone having too much eggnog, Maple asking someone out on Christmas eve, O'Malleys, Scott/Betty, sledding, mistletoe, ice skating and pumpkin pie. Whew!

Back to Remember WENN

Back to Index

E-mail Rina