1. Welcome to the Muppet Central Forum!
    You are viewing our forum as a guest. Join our free community to post topics and start private conversations. Please contact us if you need help with registration or your account login.

  2. Sesame Street Season 46
    Sesame Street's 46th season officially began Saturday January 16 on HBO. After you see the new episodes, post here and let us know your thoughts.

Wanda: Portrait of a Second Banana

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by Winslow Leach, Mar 29, 2011.

  1. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Aw, thank you! I really appreciate it! =P
  2. RedPiggy

    RedPiggy Well-Known Member

    Finally caught up ... and it's still hilarious. Good job!
  3. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Thanks! It's obviously not canon, but I hope it provides a few laughs. Maybe not a loud HA HA...perhaps a simple guffaw, or...hey look! A Wayne wearing a suit made out of ego! :confused:
  4. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 11

    A beautiful mid-December evening. The air was cool, crisp and nippy, but I didn't really notice, as I was snuggled against the fabulous Wayne Cornelius Butkus III. He kept me warm as we skated around the pond, the moon providing the only light. He crooned softly into my ear and I closed my eyes, feeling completely safe and at ease in his arms.​

    Don't you kind of love December
    When the merry snow bells chime
    We're together once upon a wintertime

    Every single snowflake falling
    Plays a jingle down your spine
    Lovely weather once upon a wintertime

    On a frozen pond folks are swaying
    Sweetheart, who cares
    We'll have more fun sleighing
    Behind two chestnut mares

    When we say goodbye December
    Merry bells no longer chime
    We'll remember once upon a wintertime

    I still remember what I was wearing that night, our first date. A pretty red velvet skirt that belonged to mommy when she was my age, mittens and a white fuzzy hat that nowadays I wouldn't be caught dead in. But at the time I thought it was cute. It only kept the top of my head warm, as it lacked ear flaps. I wasn't going to look like a dork, especially on my first date with Wayne. My first date ever.

    Wayne wore a red, white and green knit sweater with reindeer on the front and back, which probably cost more than my entire ensemble. He had fluffy earmuffs covering his...well, his ears...a green knit scarf wrapped around his neck, and a long green stocking cap with a white pom-pom on the tip, that made him kind of resemble an elf. If he was any kind of gentleman, he would have offered me the earmuffs, as the cap was sufficient enough. He could have let me wear the scarf as well, now that I think about it.​


    "Oh my god, Wayne! Are...are you all right?" No response. "Wayne? Wayne?"​

    My hands were over my eyes. I couldn't bear to look. I stood at the top of the staircase, trembling. I kept calling his name, but Wayne never answered. Onstage, rehearsal was going on, but I couldn't hear any of the music. The only sound going through my head, on a continuous loop, was Wayne shouting "waugh!"​

    We were rehearsing an original musical in a flea pit of a theater, which was a ripoff of Oklahoma! called Schenectady! And it was bad, oh god, was it bad. You know how Oklahoma! has that song, "I Can't Say No"? This one had a rewrite called "I Can't See Moe," the lament of a Three Stooges fan, who weeps when the power goes out, thus depriving him of the antics of his favorite stooge. Yeah. Another one to leave off the ol' resume.​

    So while we weren't on stage, we were upstairs in the costume room, gathering a bunch of dresses, gowns and evening suits for the director to inspect. The only way up to the costume room was via a narrow, rickety metal staircase consisting of exactly twenty-six stairs. How do I know there were twenty-six? I counted them. Duh. Yeah, there was a railing, but it was in as bad shape as the rest of the staircase. Seriously, the thing must have been installed by depressed Depression-era workers who probably did a half-***** job because he or she didn't have to run up and down the darned thing on a regular basis.​

    Wayne, his arms laden with potential costumes, scurried towards the staircase.​

    "Whoa," I said. "Take it easy."​

    "What?" asked Wayne, glaring at me from above a pink chiffon dress.​

    "Slow down. You know how dangerous those stairs can be."​

    "Pish-posh," said Wayne. "I've worked this place a hundred times. I know those stairs like the back of my hand."​

    As if to show off (or prove something), that dumb Butkus pranced down the narrow stairs like Jimmy Cagney, two at a time. When he got to the bottom, he looked up and thumbed his nose at me. "You're such a worry walrus!" he shouted, and bolted for the stage.​

    I was so relieved he made it, I gave up any thought of killing him, for almost giving me a heart attack. But unfortunately, he was back less than five minutes later. I was going through some wigs, when a hand plopped on my shoulder.​


    I shouted and spun around, staring at a grinning Wayne. "Thought I was gonna fall, eh chickie baby?" He took a small packet of M&M's out of his pocket, tore it open and downed them in one swift motion. As he began removing more dresses and dinner jackets from the many racks, he shook his head. "You'll make a good mother, on accounta you worry too much." Oh, how I wanted to take a swing at his smug face, but this was our first show together. He got me the job, so I kept my cool. I still thought he was being reckless with those stairs though, no matter how many times he ran up and down them. Again I followed him.​

    "I'll be back in a flash," he said, his breath reeking of chocolate. "I'm saving the Marilyn dress for last. The rest of these rags aren't worthy to touch it."​

    "I can bring the Marilyn dress down--"​

    "No!" he practically shrieked. "Only I may handle the Marilyn dress."​

    Wayne turned and started for the top of the stairs. "You just go through the wigs or shoes or something, worry walrus. Buh-huh! Buh-huh! Buh-waugh!"​

    It happened. Wayne's foot missed the first step, and he tumbled all the way to the bottom, the clothing falling everywhere. I screamed and covered my eyes.​

    "Wayne! Please answer me!"​

    I couldn't take it any longer. Slowly my hands dropped, and I looked down. It was dark (another reason why those stairs were so dangerous--we had no light), so I couldn't really make out anything. I slowly began walking down, my hand gripping the railing. As I got closer and closer to the ground, I began to make out Wayne. I gasped at the horrible sight.​

    Wayne's head was completely turned around, as if someone accidentally put his noggin on in the wrong direction. His eyes and mouth were wide open in a grimace, his glazed face seeming to stare at his own rear end. Before I could hurry down to help, one of the cast members, a Mitch Dale, picked up Wayne, as if he was nothing more than a cheap rag doll.​

    "I found that cheap rag doll!" exclaimed Dale, lugging Wayne on stage. "Looks like somebody screwed his head on the wrong way."​

    "Never mind that now," answered our director. "We'll fix it later. Begin the dance."​

    The accompanist began a bright, cheerful ditty on the piano as Dale started waltzing with Wayne's body roughly around the stage, my boyfriend's feet sweeping the floor. Amazingly, nobody in the theater realized Wayne was the "rag doll." The experience was so surreal, I can't even begin to tell you. Take my word for it. You really had to be there. And even then you probably wouldn't believe it. That's one of the few times I can remember feeling sorry for Wayne.​
  5. LinkiePie<3

    LinkiePie<3 Well-Known Member

    The first scene of the chapter was lovely. :B Hahahaha.... can't wait for more, Tony! =P
  6. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 12

    While some thought Wayne was a brilliant singer and interpreter of popular song, he couldn't write to save his life. If you think my writing is bad...well, Wayne was in a class of his own. Not many people know this, but Mr. Butkus was the author of twenty-seven musical comedies. Most were unproduced, but the few that were opened and closed the same night. Take Robin Hood: The Musical. Please. Wayne and I were still just starting out as a team, and somehow he was able to mount his tale of Robin and the Merry Men shortly after his accident. Oh yeah. He (obviously) survived the fall down the stairs. I'm sure he'll devote at least nine volumes to the accident and his recuperation.​

    Naturally, Wayne played Robin Hood, doing his best Errol Flynn impression. He grew a stupid little mustache and wore green tights. Actually, all the men in the show wore tights of different colors, but only Wayne's were green. Fifty-two people were in the cast, and yours truly was the only female. I was Maid Marian, but the part was so small, I didn't see the point of including her. Unlike Mel Brooks's Robin Hood: Men In Tights, which was supposed to be funny, Robin Hood: The Musical was funny for all the wrong reasons. One of the problems was that Wayne took his script extremely seriously. He wanted to play a tragic, tortured Robin Hood, but instead came off looking like a total moron. I still have a copy of the script, and would like to share some excerpts with you. None of the grammar has been changed. Everything is exactly as Wayne wrote, directed and performed it.​

    Sherwood Forest. The Merry Men enter from all parts of the stage, link arms and sing, doing a merry kickline (because they're the Merry Men).

    We are the Merry Men of Sherwood
    Wearing tights make us feel good
    We dance, prance and caper all day long
    We jump, scamper and sing this song


    Enter Robin Hood.

    Why, hello Merry Men!​

    Hello, Robin Hood!​

    A fine day this morning, eh?​

    Yes, Robin Hood!​

    Robin links arms with the Merry Men and joins them in their song/kickline.

    We are the Merry Men of Sherwood
    Wearing tights make us feel good
    We dance, prance and caper all day long
    We jump, scamper and sing this song

    Gee, that was fun!​

    It sure was, Robin Hood!​

    What's say we do it again?​

    Okay, Robin Hood!​

    Repeat song/dance eleven more times.

    Who is the greatest outlaw in the land?​

    You are, Robin Hood!​

    You bet the feathers in your caps!​

    Enter Little John with a long staff.

    What's all this bloody noise?​

    Who are you?​

    My name is Little John, and I claim this forest as my own!

    Ha! As if!​

    Who are you?​

    Who am I?​

    Who is he?​

    Who am I?

    Who is he?

    That's what I asked.​

    I am Robin Hood.​

    Never heard of ye.​

    (all gasp)
    Never heard of he?

    Easy, my Merry Men. So. You've never heard of me, eh?​

    Drama queen!​

    This forest belongs to me!


    Is too.​

    Is not.​

    Is too!​

    Is--who are those people?​

    Robin links arms with the Merry Men and joins them in their song/kickline.

    We are the Merry Men of Sherwood
    Wearing tights make us feel good
    We dance, prance and caper all day long
    We jump, scamper and sing this song


    Wait. Who are those people?​


    We are the Merry Men of Sherwood
    Wearing tights make us feel good
    We dance, prance and caper all day long
    We jump, scamper and sing this song

    Maid Marian runs on.

    Oh Robin!​

    Maid Marian runs off.

    Who was that?

    I have no idea.​

    You say these woods belong to you. I say they belong to me.

    We both can't own Sherwood.​

    Right you are, sir.​

    How shall we settle this?​

    (crouches, staff at the ready)
    We'll fight for it!​

    Fight? Oh no. I couldn't fight.​

    Then I automatically win!

    (hands on hips, throws head back, laughing)

    Did I say something funny?

    That's not fair! How can you win if we don't see who the better man is?

    Well, you don't want to fight.

    No. But we can dance!


    I challenge you to a dance contest!

    You've got to be bloody joking.

    Then I guess Sherwood belongs to me.


    Do you accept the challenge, sir?


    Fine. As you are a stranger, you may go first.
    Long pause; Little John finally drops his staff, and takes three large clumsy, clomping steps.

    Eh...you may begin whenever you wish...


    Your dance.

    I just did it.

    Did what?

    My dance. Didn't you see it?

    That was your dance?

    Robin Hood throws his head back and laughs.


    Feh! Let's see your dance!

    You'll be sorry!
    Little John starts.
    Get a load of this, Frankenstein!
    Robin Hood does the James Cagney "Yankee Doodle Dandy" dance from the movie of the same name; the Merry Men cheer him on; at the end, Robin Hood gets down on one knee and makes jazz hands.
    You win, sir.


    Would you like to join my band of Merry Men, Little John?

    Why sure!
    Little John, Robin and the Merry Men link arms and sing/dance.
    We are the Merry Men of Sherwood
    Wearing tights make us feel good
    We dance, prance and caper all day long
    We jump, scamper and sing this song
    Robin Hood throws his head back and laughs.

    So...yeah. That was just one scene of the play that ran four and a half hours. And that was all of my role. One line. One lousy, stinking line. I should have jumped ship then and there.​
  7. LinkiePie<3

    LinkiePie<3 Well-Known Member

    AH! AH! Oh my-- tights! *quivers* Get 'em away from me! *faints*

    I fear for the picturesque Wanda. I pity the Butkus. XP

    Incredible work, Tony! =P
  8. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 13

    Allow me to backtrack, to the night I saw Wayne in The Pirates of Penzance at the Raindrop Theatre. As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, this was closing night of the production in our town, before it moved to another city. I dolled myself up, hoping against hope I would be able to meet the love of my teenage life after the show. I wore a navy dress with matching bow in my hair. I overdid the lipstick and eye shadow, but that was because I wanted Wayne to notice me in the audience. Perhaps if his eyes drifted off stage during the show, he would spot my face, and recognize me.​

    I didn't want to go with a parent, but I had no choice. My two older brothers couldn't be bribed with money or food, and although I had friends, I didn't know any with a car. Daddy seemed fine that night. He wasn't talking politics with the toaster or anything, but I would feel kind of weird having him sit next to me while my attention was focused on Wayne. So I approached mommy.​

    "Mommy, you said we could go to the Raindrop Theatre tonight and see Pirates of Penzance," I said.​

    "Did you finish your homework?"​


    "All of it?"​

    "Yes. Most of it."​

    "Most isn't all."​

    "Mommy, I have all weekend to finish it, and tonight's the last night of the play, and you said I could go, and and and--"​

    Mommy smiled. "You look so pretty. Why aren't you wearing your dungarees? Are you planning to meet someone I don't know about?"​

    "N-no," I said, although mommy knew otherwise. "I--I just want to look nice, that's all."​

    Mommy nodded and didn't say anything else about my attire.​

    My dream night was off to a roaring start!​

    I kissed daddy, who was plopped in front of the TV. "I don't understand you young people," he said. "What's the attraction of dancing pirates? You crazy kids and your fads. Yesterday it was the hula hoop. Today it's dancing pirates. What's next? British singers with silly haircuts caterwauling on Ed Sullivan? Pooh! Not in this lifetime!" And he turned his attention back to the TV, laughing at a joke delivered by Mister Ed. "Hah hah hah! How did they manage to find a talking horse?" he guffawed.​


    The theatre was full, but not packed. Luckily, there was one empty seat available in the front row! Mommy told me to take it, and she settled herself in the second row, which was filling up rather quickly. As I hurried to that creaky old wooden chair in the front, which, to me seemed to be emanating with a golden glow, a rather large woman who resembled a hippo squeezed her wide behind down in my seat! This was unacceptable! When my Wayne looked out from the stage, he was not going to see marshmallow mama over here.​

    "Um, excuse me," I piped. "That's my seat."​

    The woman didn't seem to hear me. She reached into the large box of popcorn on her lap and stuffed her face.​

    "Uh...ma'am? That chair is mine. I...I had to run to the bathroom, but I'm back, so...yeah..."​

    The woman shoved more popcorn into her mouth and slowly turned her head. She stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, and grabbed another handful of popcorn.​

    "It's mine now," she said, mouth full.​

    "But...but..." I was on the verge of tears. My dream night was rapidly turning into a nightmare. This was not happening!

    Okay. I took a deep breath and composed myself. I was a young woman, seventeen years old. I wasn't a baby anymore, who threw tantrums whenever she didn't get her way. Surely this matter could be handled in a calm, adult-like manner.

    I knocked the popcorn box out of hippo lady's hands. The woman let out a shriek, as if the popcorn was a child. She immediately jumped out of her seat and slowly dropped to her knees, scooping up as much popcorn as she could, before other people walked over it. Me? I sat down in my newly-vacant front row chair, a smile of satisfaction on my made-up face. Behind me, I felt a pat on the shoulder and turned to see mommy smile and wink at her quick-thinking daughter. You know what they say. Big girls don't cry. They get even.

    By the time fatty gathered her popcorn, the lights quickly began flashing, which meant the show would begin in a matter of minutes. The large woman got up from the floor, cradling her crushed box to her breast, blubbering. I think she actually forgot where she was sitting, because she started up the aisle, and sat in the first available seat.

    My moment of happiness briefly turned cloudy, however. What if the fat woman was Wayne's mother? No. That would be too much of a coincidence. Still, the thought lingered longer than it should have. Suppose I humiliated my future boyfriend's mother? Would she tearfully tell him backstage about the awful girl who knocked her popcorn to the floor? What if, instead of his mother, she was a relative? An aunt? A cousin? Perhaps it wasn't a relation, but a friend? All I could think about for the next several minutes was the connection between Wayne and the popcorn lady. Thankfully I was able to get these thoughts out of my head as soon as the lights went down and the orchestra began playing. The woman was probably someone who was a fan of Gilbert and Sullivan. Period. She didn't know anyone in the cast. She probably wanted to see the show, but her husband, like daddy, was watching Mister Ed at home. So she took the car, drove to the theater, bought a ticket and the largest bucket of popcorn available and...I lost myself in the music, forgetting all about Large Marge.​
  9. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 14

    The show was fantastic, far exceeding my expectations. The girl who played Mabel was way better than me, and a felt a twinge of jealousy during the scenes between her and my Wayne. They looked so...so...so in love. I mean, I knew it was only a play, but...the looks Wayne gave that girl...those were the same looks he gave me at Burger King the night we met! But I immediately melted as soon as my love began to sing.​

    Ah, must I leave thee here
    In endless night to dream
    Where joy is dark and drear
    And sorrow all supreme
    Where nature, day by day
    Will sing in altered tone
    This weary roundelay
    "He loves thee, he is gone
    Fa-la, la-la, Fa-la, la-la"

    Oh, did that man know how to fa-la! Ahem. Calm down, Wanda.​

    So, the show went by in a heartbeat. My eyes were fixed on Wayne and only Wayne throughout. Even though I knew my Gilbert and Sullivan, I was kind of bored and fidgety when Mr. Butkus wasn't onstage. Oh, the cast was fine for the most part. The costumes were colorful, the sets put you right in the middle of the action, and the songs were very catchy (especially since I still had them lodged in my brain from freshman year). But I wanted more Wayne!

    I was the first one on my feet as soon as the cast bounded out for their curtain call. When Wayne, second-to-last came jogging out and stood at the foot of the stage, I let out a scream and applauded like a madwoman. I can honestly say I was the loudest in the theater, cheering for Wayne. How do I know this? Because I'd be darned if I'd let anybody else have that satisfaction. Back off, clowns! He's mine! Mine! Apparently I was still clapping and screaming my head off long after the cast left the stage, because when I came to, mommy was calming me down in an empty theater. Whoops!​
  10. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 15

    "What did you say your name was?"​

    "I never got a chance to--I mean--Wanda."​





    I stood in the doorway of Wayne's dressing room, watching the man in the purple velvet monogrammed robe remove his makeup.​

    "What was that name?"​


    Wayne turned from the mirror, his face smeared with cold cream.​

    "I don't know any Clara."​

    I smiled. Was he putting me on? Surely he wasn't that dumb.​

    "Remember? We met last week at Burger King?" A blank stare from the cream-faced man. "I was sitting in a booth alone, singing to myself..."​

    "What were you singing?"​

    "These Boots Are Made for Walking."​

    "I'm not familiar with that one."​

    He was putting me on! He had to be!​

    "I started, and you picked up where I left off. Then you told me your name, and that you were on tour with this show."​

    "What show would that be?"​

    "Uh...the one you just finished."​

    "Ah yes. Did you see it?"​

    "I was in the front row. It was brilliant!"​

    "Of course it was," said Wayne, turning back to his mirror. "I was the star, wasn't I?"​

    I chuckled, before I realized he wasn't laughing.​

    "I was forced to carry the whole thing myself," he said, as he wiped his face with a monogrammed towel. "The rest of the cast was mediocre."​

    "I didn't think--"​

    "Sorry, no refunds."​


    "No refunds, despite the weak cast. Sorry. Maybe if I was in charge--"​

    "You sang a song from this show, just for me. At Burger King."​

    Wayne dropped the towel on the vanity.​

    "Listen, Janet, I don't mean to be rude, but I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." He sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. "You've obviously mistaken me for someone else. Although I don't know how that's possible, as there's only one Wayne C. Butkus. I would never sing to a total stranger."​


    "And at Burger King, no less?"​

    "But you did. Then we went outside and talked."​

    "What did we talk about?" he asked suspiciously.​

    "Um...Ethel Merman...the two albums you recorded..."​

    "Do you have them?"​

    "No," I looked at the floor, slightly embarrassed. "The man at the record store didn't have them in stock. Actually, he never heard of you."

    "Meatballs!" said Wayne, jumping to his feet. "That's all people who have never heard of me are! Meatballs!"

    I stared at him, as he paced around the room.

    "Do you know how much blood, sweat and tears I put into those albums? It's like, with each song a tiny piece of my soul left my body and leapt into the vinyl! Those albums are as much a part of me as my soul!"

    I was about to ask if he had a copy or two available, when I heard a loud, long HONK! outside. Mommy said I could have two minutes. God knows what was going through her head at that moment. Wayne looked towards the sound.

    "Did a duck just fly into a telephone pole?" he asked, a concerned look on his face. Another loud, long HONK! "Two ducks?"​
  11. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 16

    "Your mother?" asked Wayne, puzzled. "Your mother makes honking noises?"​

    If I wasn't such a young, lovestruck teenager, I would have punched Wayne in the stomach. By now his moron act (and I was still convinced it was an act) was wearing really thin. But having known the man for so long, I can assure you, he was totally serious that night in his dressing room. This is what happens, kids, when an overwhelming ego takes over your brain. That and a bottle of stinky hair oil applied every night.​

    "Um...have you been in other Gilbert and Sullivan shows?" I asked, changing the subject and ignoring the increasingly incessant honks from outside.​

    "You bet I have," beamed Wayne. He sat down and leaned back in his chair. "I was Nanki-Poo and Ko-Ko in The Mikado. Not the same production, of course, ha ha. I could do it, though. Play both parts at the same time, if some stupid director would give me a chance."​

    I was getting tired of standing, and hoped he would offer me a chair, but no dice.​

    "In Ruddigore, I was Richard Dauntless. Let's see...oh! H.M.S. Pinafore, one of my very favorites. I played Mrs. Cripps, also known as Buttercup, of course." He got to his feet and sang, looking into his hand mirror.​

    For I'm called Little Buttercup
    Dear Little Buttercup
    Though I could never tell why
    But still I'm called Buttercup
    Poor Little Buttercup
    Sweet little Buttercup I!



    I was mortified. I know I was past my time limit, but sometimes mommy could be a real pain. Wayne's face was turning red.​

    "How dare someone honk while I'm singing!" He fumed. And for free!"​

    "I'm--I'm--I'm terribly sorry, Wayne, I'll--"​

    "How do you know my name?"​

    "You...told me. And it was in the program."​

    "Well...since you know my name...I guess I ought to know yours."​

    "It's Wanda, Mr. Butkus."​

    "Who are you, and how do you know my last name?"​

    "You told me. And it was in the program."​


    "Son of a caterpillar!"​

    "That's my mother, Way--Mr. But--guy who played Frederic. I told her I'd only be a minute, and--"​

    "Your mother?"​


    "You have a mother?"​


    "What a coincidence! I have a mother too!"​

    "Small world."​

  12. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 17

    As I walked out to the parking lot, my feet didn't touch the ground. I was floating on air. I managed to snag a date with Wayne when the Pirates tour was over. That would be in twelve days, after which, he would come back to town and meet me.​

    "Would you...um...would you...like to go out sometime?" I stammered. Wayne looked at me as if I had a hand growing out of my forehead. Uh-oh. What if he already had a girlfriend? Worse...what if he was married? His program bio didn't thank anyone, so that was a good sign. Right?​

    "You want a date? With me?"​

    "If...if...if you don't mind..."​

    Wayne tilted his head back and began putting eyedrops into his gorgeous peepers.​

    "Forgive me if I seem surprised," he said, head still back. "I'm usually the one who makes the first move."​

    "Oh." I began wringing my hands, which were sweaty. "I didn't mean to--"​

    "Would you like to go out on a date with me?"​



    "I'd love to!"​

    He smiled and took an ivory-colored business card out of his robe pocket, with his name and profession (singer, actor, all-around entertainer) embossed in gold lettering. Below his name was the number where I could reach him.​

    "Wow. I like your card."​

    "Of course you do."​

    I opened my purse and quickly searched for a piece of paper to write my info. I couldn't find any, so I grabbed a stick of gum, unrapped it, popped it into my mouth and wrote my name, address and phone number on the tiny wrapper.​

    "Wanda," he said, taking the gum wrapper. "Is that your name?"​


    "I thought you told me it was Janet."​

    "I never said--"​

    "No matter. You're a very pretty girl, Brenda."​



    "Now don't lose that wrapper," I said, joking.​

    "What wrapper?" asked Wayne. I stared at him, and he burst out laughing. "I'm just funnin' ya," he said. ​

    "Oh." I smiled.​


    "I really have to go," I said. But it was almost impossible, because I began losing myself in his eyes. I couldn't move.​

    "Are you...okay?" he asked.​


    "You look kinda sick."​

    "Me? No! I'm not sick, I'm...my head is spinning..."​

    "A beer drinker, are ya?"​

    "What? No!"​

    "Sneak your own supply in, did you?"​

    "All I had was popcorn."​

    "Why is your head spinning?"​

    "Because I'm going on a date with the fabulous Wayne Cornelius Butkus III!"​

    He told me we would have to wait until the show closed, then gently turned me around and led me out of his dressing room. As I turned to say good night, the door shut in my face.​


    "I believe you," said mommy. "I know you're not a tramp."​

    I did a double-take. Mommy, both hands on the wheel, was staring at the road. ​

    "You were simply in awe of a celebrity, and wanted to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. Right?"​


    "Ah. When I was your age I had the biggest crush on Rudy Vallee. Saw him four times. But I never had the opportunity to meet him."​

    "That's too bad."​

    "He was signing autographs after a show," said mommy. "I wanted one so badly, but the boy I was going with--not your father--told me it was a waste of time. 'What do you need Rudy Vallee for, when you got me?' Those were his exact words."​

    "Do you think daddy would have let you get an autograph? I mean, if it was him instead of the other guy you were with?"​

    "No," mommy sighed. "Daddy wasn't a fan either."​

    I didn't really know Rudy Vallee. Oh, I knew he was an old-time singer, but I don't think I ever heard any of his songs. Of course, when I brought up the name to Wayne, he gave me a long lecture on the man and his music, after first chastising me for being "ignorant." Wayne is such a sweetheart, isn't he?​
  13. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 18

    That night I had a vivid dream, in which Mr. Butkus and I were re-enacting a scene from Rose-Marie (1936). Wayne, in the uniform of a Mountie, was paddling a canoe, while I sat in front of him.​

    Beautiful night, isn't it?​

    What? Oh. Oh yes. Yes.​

    You came up here for romance. I don't know why you have to go any further than this. Look around you, you've got everything here.​

    Not quite.​

    Look this way then.​

    If you don't go on with your paddling, we won't get to that festival.​

    Every time I realize that I'm helping you get to another man, it takes the heart out of me.
    What's he like, anyway?​


    I just want to know what competition I'm up against. I suppose he's some big banker.​


    A poet, then. I know I can't write poetry, but I can recite it.
    Cannons to the right of them
    Cannons to the left of them--

    No, he's not a poet.​

    A polo player, maybe. It's no use you going any further for that. I play polo.​

    No, he's not a polo player either.​

    Then what is he? What's the attraction?​

    He's an Italian tenor.​

    *Wanda's note: no, it's not Lefty, if that's what you're thinking*​

    He's got me there. I'm not an Italian. But as for the singing...here goes...​


    Oh, sweet Rose-Marie
    It's easy to see
    Why all who learn to know you love you
    You're gentle and kind
    Divinely designed
    As graceful as the pines above you
    There's an angel's breath beneath your sigh
    There's a little devil in your eye

    Oh, Rose-Marie, I love you
    Forever dreaming of you
    No matter what I do
    I'll not forget you
    Sometimes I wish that
    I had never met you

    And yet if I should lose you
    'Twould mean my very life to me
    Of all the queens that ever lived
    I'd choose you
    To rule me, my Rose-Marie

    How was that for a start?​

    You have a lovely voice.​

    What about the song? Did you like it?​

    I suppose you just composed it on the spur of the moment.​

    Every word came right from my heart.​

    It was very pretty.​

    Well, I'll try to remember it. Let's see...​


    Oh, Caroline, I love you--

    Uh...it was Rose-Marie a moment ago.​

    What did I say?​


    Oh, did I say Caroline? That's too bad.​

    What do you do? Change the name to suit the girl?​

    If it fits the rhythm.​

    Oh, I see...​

    (sings, mocking Wayne)

    Oh, Genevieve, I love you
    Oh, Annabelle, I--

    That must come in very handy.​

    It doesn't work with some names. It didn't work with Maude. But then, nothing worked with Maude...​

    Wayne sighs; Wanda turns and gives him a look; he resumes paddling.

    Yep. That was the dream I had for the next twelve nights, until Wayne came calling. When I told him about it, he said "I admire Nelson Eddy greatly. I'm so glad you imagined I was him instead of that longhair Frank Sinatra. Bah!"

    Of course, Wayne would don a Mountie's uniform time and again on stage and television. But he was no Nelson Eddy. And he was never as charming as he was in my dream.​
  14. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 19

    "His breath smells like rotten bananas and onions. Probably."​

    I whacked Candice with a pillow.

    "Shut up!"

    Candice smiled smugly. "Nobody knows who the guy is but you. Where did you say he was big? Like Iceland?"

    I hit Candice with the pillow again.

    "You're jealous, because I have a boyfriend."

    Candice picked up my Pirates program and leafed through it until she came to Wayne's picture.

    "Ugh. The more I see him, the more I want to throw up," she said.

    "Then don't look at it. Him. Don't look at him."

    "This guy looks like a robot. And a freak. Wonder what circus he escaped from. Wonder if there's a reward for his capture."

    I punched Candice on the arm, and she let out a cry.

    "You," I said, pointing a finger in her face, "don't talk about Wayne like that."

    "I'm tellin' mommy you punched me!"

    "I'm tellin' mommy you came home at two o'clock in the morning."

    Candice gasped. I had her!

    "You wouldn't dare!"

    "Try me," I said, gloating.

    "You're so evil, Wanda."

    "I know."

    Candice angrily got into bed. I climbed into my own bed (yeah, unfortunately I shared a room with my sister), put my arms behind my head, and stared at the ceiling, smiling to myself. Now it was only five days until my Wayne would be standing on our doorstep. I fell asleep thinking about what I should wear for our first official date.​
  15. newsmanfan

    newsmanfan Well-Known Member

    Hee, hee, hee...I'm loving this.

    So, is Wayne any relation to Dick?

    I love all the old song and film references. Let's hear it for CULTURE! :attitude:
  16. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Thanks! Nah, I don't think Wayne's into football. It's "too dirty" for him. He wouldn't want to mess his hair or get his hands dirty or anything.
  17. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 20

    "How come you haven't mentioned me yet, man?"​

    I smiled at Sasha, and reassured him I would get to the part where we met in time.​

    "You go on and on about Wayne."​

    "Well, yes. Wayne and I were partners for--"​

    "How come you haven't mentioned me?"​

    You readers may know Sasha as Zoot, sax player for the Electric Mayhem. We're engaged, but I have no idea when the wedding will be. Yet despite this, and my constant assurances that I love him, he still sometimes can get jealous of Wayne and the years I spent with him. Long story short, Wayne and I had a very quick romance. He was more in love with himself than with me. Yes, he helped me get in the business, for which I am eternally grateful, but otherwise any romantic feelings I had for him died by the time I was eighteen. Oh sure, as far as the public was concerned, we were the perfect couple. To this day, some people who remember Wayne and Wanda will insist we're married. But the truth is, our physical relationship ended within six months.

    I knew of Zoot during our Muppet Show days, but we never really spoke. I secretly loved the Electric Mayhem, but I wouldn't dare tell Wayne, because he would have instantly dropped me from the act. But the quiet guy who played a mean sax caught my eye, and I silently pined after him...

    I kissed Sasha on the cheek and again assured him I would write about him when the narrative demanded it, at a crucial point in my life. I know I haven't been the best at keeping things chronological, but...um...dogs with bones in their mouths are quite fascinating, aren't they?

    So blah blah blah, Wayne and I finally met for our first date. As I explained in an earlier chapter, we went ice skating. But before we headed for the pond, I asked Wayne to come inside my house and meet my parents.

    Mr. Butkus pulled into our driveway well after nine p.m., despite promising me he would pick me up no later than six. I'm not up on my cars, but I could tell he was driving something sporty, foreign and expensive. I dashed outside, and stood by the passenger door, waiting for him to open it. He didn't notice me until I rapped on the window. Startled, he turned and glared in my direction.

    "Don't touch the window," he said. "The door's open."

    I half-smiled and opened the door, sticking my head inside the heated sports car. "Come in for a sec. I'd like you to meet my folks."

    Wayne stared straight ahead, both hands gripping the steering wheel.

    "You didn't say anything about meeting your parents, Brenda."

    "Wanda," I corrected. "And it'll only take a minute."

    Wayne sighed. "We don't have time."

    "They gonna close the pond?"

    Wayne glared at me again. "Get in the car."

    I frowned at the dip in the stocking cap. For the first time, I found myself slightly standing up to Mr. Fabulous.

    "You said six. Where have you been?"

    "I was busy. With things."

    "What kind of things?"

    "You're letting the heat out. You gonna stand there yapping all night, or are you gonna get in?"

    "Not until you meet my folks."

    Wayne punched the steering wheel, and angrily pulled the keys out of the ignition. He opened the door and stepped out of the car.

    "Is this going to be an inquisition?" he asked, gently closing the car door.

    "Of course not," I replied, closing the passenger door. "They just want to meet you."

    "Have they heard of me? Are they fans?"

    "Uh..." I didn't want to disappoint him, but there really was no way around this one. "Not really. Oh, my mom saw you in Pirates, and she thought you were...good..."

    "Only good?" he sniffed. "Did she read the local reviews?"

    I took Wayne's arm, and the two of us headed to the front door. Wayne kept looking back at his car, as if it was a sanctuary. I could tell he'd rather be anywhere than here right now, but mommy and daddy insisted on meeting him. Not because he was supposedly famous. It was merely parents being parents. They wanted to meet the boy their daughter was going out with.

    I opened the door, and we stepped inside.

    "Mommy? Daddy?"​
  18. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    Chapter 21

    "You were marvelous! Simply marvelous," said mommy, practically cornering Wayne.​

    "Thank you," replied Wayne. "Would you like an autograph?"​

    "No," said mommy. "I wouldn't want to trouble you."​

    "No trouble," said Wayne, producing a pen.​

    "Thank you...no," said mommy more firmly. "It's an honor to have you in our home. Worth more than any old autograph."​

    Wayne narrowed his eyes at mommy, but said nothing.​

    "Oh good!" Daddy came out of the living room, a bowl of popcorn kernels in his hand. "The boy came to shovel the driveway. Bring your own shovel, did ya? If not, we have a couple in the garage."​

    "Daddy, this is my date. Wayne Butkus."​

    Daddy looked Wayne up and down.​

    "Who'd you say this was?"​

    "My date."​

    "Young man," started daddy, "when I was your age, a gentleman caller was always on time. Weren't you supposed to be here at six?"​


    "Quiet, Wanda. I want to hear your beau's excuse."​

    "Sir," started Wayne, "I apologize for picking up Wanda so late. But you see, I had things to do."​

    "What kind of things?"​


    "Hush, Deliah."​



    "Well, son?"

    Wayne looked from daddy to mommy to me.

    "I...I was shopping, sir. For Christmas. The stores were so crowded, I was stuck--"

    Daddy chuckled. "You don't look like the kind of fella who shops. You look like the kind of feller who sends someone else out to do his shopping for him."

    Wayne managed a smile.

    My baby don't care for shows--

    Daddy did a double-take.

    My baby don't care for clothes--

    "Son?" asked daddy. "Are you ill?"

    My baby just cares for me
    My baby don't care for furs and laces
    My baby don't care for high-toned places--

    "Maude, what's the number of Doctor...Doctor? He's a doctor."

    My baby don't care for rings
    Or other expensive things
    She's sensible as can be--

    "Doesn't he have...a sweet voice...?" asked mommy, trying to steer daddy into the kitchen.

    My baby don't care who knows it
    My baby just cares for me

    Wayne grabbed me, and we started waltzing around the living room. I was almost as confused as my parents, but I went along with it. He spun me around, and let go. I ended up bouncing off the sofa and onto the floor. Wayne slid into the foyer and did a tap dance.

    My baby don't care for rings
    Or other expensive things
    She's sensible as can be
    My baby don't care who knows it
    My baby just cares for me

    I walked into the foyer just as Wayne was finishing his impromptu performance, and noticed my brothers and sister watching from the second landing.

    "What a dork," whispered Josh, quite audibly to Candice. Candy snickered.

    "Hey Wanda," shouted Larry. "What is this? Music to put old farts to bed? Huh huh huh huh."

    "Larry!" said mommy, looking up at my brother.

    "It's okay, ma'am," said Wayne. "Many people don't appreciate the classics."

    Larry blew a loud raspberry, and ran to his room, slamming the door.

    "Oh god, Wayne, I'm sorry," I said. "He--"

    "Don't worry about it." Wayne looked into my eyes, then turned to daddy. "And I was shopping, sir. Look. I even bought Zelda a present."

    Wayne reached into his pocket and took out a package wrapped in red. "You didn't think I'd arrive empty-handed, did you?"

    I took the gift, and tried to thank Wayne, but my throat was dry. My eyes began to tear as I gazed upon the man--my man--flashing a million dollar smile. I didn't want this moment to end. Yes, I was hot in my heavy skirt and hat, but I felt I could stand here forever, looking--

    "What are ya waitin' for? Open it!" The shrill voice of Candice brought me back to reality.

    Wayne grinned at Candice, his hands behind his back.

    "S-sorry," I croaked. "Thank you..."

    "Going to open it?" Wayne's hand gently caressed my arm. "I think you'll like it."

    I nodded dumbly, and unwrapped the package. I stared at the present in my hands, truly unable to speak.

    I was holding a brand new package of tiddlywinks.​
  19. LinkiePie<3

    LinkiePie<3 Well-Known Member

    I share my sympathies to Butkus... for giving Wanda Tiddlywinks. -.-

    I'm all caught up and can't wait for more, Tony! Fabulous story (richer than a Butkus whose initals start with a W, a C, and a B--and a I, I,and I)! =BB
  20. Winslow Leach

    Winslow Leach Active Member

    LOL! Thanks, Angie! Glad youse like it so far! XPP

Share This Page