“Another summer-like day, in the Windy City…” the radio announcer’s voice blared, startling the somewhat stuporous driver as he sped along the freeway.

The man leaned over and turned the volume down. “Man!” he whispered with a hint of annoyance. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter in his seat, trying to stay awake. He rolled his window halfway down and checked his watch. An hour and 20 minutes to get there, providing the traffic will cooperate. He hoped that he’d have no problems finding his destination, smiling as he recognized the hazy outline of the city in the distance.

He was bored with the cornfields on either side of the road and was hoping to come across someplace to get out and stretch a bit. Wish there was at least something interesting to look at around here. Man! I’d kill for a Starbucks Java right now!

Not too far ahead, he spotted a bright orange sign along the side of the highway. ROADWORK AHEAD - DETOUR; an arrow pointed down a long, desolate-looking gravel road. Oh, this is just great. He pounded the steering wheel in frustration and wondered how late he would end up being, now. Me and my brilliant ideas! I just HAD to drive! He sighed as he recalled canceling the limousine. Nice job, dummy! He wasn’t able to see anything that looked like roadwork, but decided that he’d better heed the warning.

He turned off onto the gravel, not slowing down too terribly much. The back tires fishtailed slightly, but a moment later straightened out. What’s a 4-wheel drive for, anyway? He shrugged, noticing that at least there were now a few trees to look at. Hey, I feel kinda like the Dukes of Hazzard! He grinned, pleased with his new adventure and rolled up his window, attempting to keep out at least some of the dust that was being kicked up.

He continued down the gravel road, not slowing his pace. He thought nothing of the steep hill that he came upon and felt even more like one of the Duke boys. He kept his foot on the gas crooning, “Just good ol’ boy’s, never meaning no harm…” Before he knew it, he was air born. He felt his stomach flutter and it seemed to remain at the top of the hill even as the tires of his Range Rover neared the bottom. He heard the tires make contact with the gravel. He felt the Rover swerving, out of control. The last conscious thoughts he had were of trying to steer the vehicle back into line.

<><><><><><><><><><>

“Where is he?” one of the women asked, impatiently.

“I don’t know!” the other replied, checking her watch. “He should have been here by now!”

“Do you think he ignored the sign?”

“How should I know?”

The two women walked to the edge of the yard, looking down the long drive.

“Well, if he took the detour, he should be here. I mean, it’s not like there’s anywhere else he could have gone! And he was on time in Vegas!”

“Yeah, you’re right. Still, maybe we should drive down the road a ways and see if we can spot him?”

“Okay, okay!” the woman agreed in a distinct Southern twang. “I know you didn’t get to see him in Vegas, so you’re a little anxious.”

The two women hurried over to the late 60’s model white Land Rover and hopped in.

“I hope he’s wearing those Levis!” the mid-western sounding woman exclaimed excitedly, barely able to contain herself.

“He wore them in Vegas.”

The woman shot her friend a glare. “Can we please concentrate on Chicago now? This ain’t Vegas, Pooh!”

“JM, I know!” said the southern woman, missing the sarcasm. “I know!”

They drove cautiously down the winding gravel road, trying to spot anything that even looked like a vehicle heading in their direction.

“That looks kinda like dust that hasn’t settled yet,” Pooh pointed out, scanning ahead as they drew closer to the steep hill. “Like maybe a car was here not too long ago.”

“You’re right, it doessss…” JM started, then stopped abruptly. Her mouth dropped open and she pointed to the side of the road. “Oh, my gosh!”

At the bottom of the hill, in the ditch was an overturned SUV. JM quickly pulled the white Land Rover over to the side and both women climbed down the embankment to check out the situation.

“Pooh…it’s a Range Rover…just like HE drives,” JM stated worriedly.

“OH, MAH GOSH! WE’VE KI-ILLED JOHNNY…for real!” Pooh lamented, kneeling down and pounding on the driver’s side window. “JOHNNY! CAN YA HEAR ME?”

“Get a hold of yourself!” the other woman admonished. “We haven’t killed him so far, and we’ve done much worse things than this to him!” She pulled with all her might on the door, until finally it gave way, causing JM to plop unceremoniously on her rear end.

“Quit foolin’ around, JM! We have to get him out of here.”

JM stood up and brushed her backside off. “Wish we had a backboard and a stokes.”

Pooh stared a moment, disbelieving of her friend. “JM, we do have a stokes! Remember? I’ll just go get it out of our Rover.” She scrambled out of the ditch and hurriedly pulled the stokes out of the Rover. The women pulled their victim from the wreckage and carefully placed him directly into the basket.

“We’ll have to wait until we get him home to check his injuries.”

“What about HIS truck?” Pooh asked as they strained to get their victim up the embankment.

“We’ll have to come back and hide it. But, right now, we have to take care of Johnny.” JM arched an eyebrow thoughtfully.

The women hoisted him into the white Rover and both gazed down at him in awe.

“You know…he doesn’t look too good,” Pooh commented, taking note of the blood trickling down the side of his face. “I’m pretty sure that leg is broken, too.”

“Nooo kiddin’,” the other said sarcastically. Her stomach turned at the sight of the twisted leg. “Uhhh…maybe we should call…you know…the person we always call when Johnny’s injuries are a little too much for us to treat on our own.”

“Uh-uh! No way,” Pooh stated emphatically, shaking her head. “If we do that…we’ll have to share him with her, too.”

“Well, if he dies…it will be all our fault!” JM whined. She bent over, placing a gentle kiss on the unconscious man’s forehead. “He’s so handsome.”

Pooh sighed. “Ohhhh…I suppose you’re right. I wouldn’t be able to live with mahself if anything bad happened. Well, if he died I mean.” She gave the other a knowing wink.

“Hey, we don’t have to tell her we really have him!” JM smiled happily. “All we tell her is we’re collaborating on a story for my page.”

Pooh frowned. “Why your page? Why can’t it be for my page?”

“’Cause you get all the stories!” The women pulled up as close to the front porch as they could manage and got out of the vehicle.

Pooh shook her head. “That ain’t a good enough reason!”

“Look,” JM said as she ran a hand through her hair, “this is silly. We‘re not really writing a story. Right? So, what difference does it make WHAT we tell her…as long as we get answers to our medical questions?”

Pooh thought for a moment and then smiled. “Without her nosing her way in here.” She stroked the head of the unconscious man. “Johnny will be fine with us!”

JM smiled. “Let’s pick him up and get him to the house.” She stood to grab the stokes, but stopped suddenly, clasping her hands together. “This is SO exciting.”

The women picked up the litter and carried their prey in to the small secluded cabin.

<><><><><><><><><><>

The man came slowly to consciousness, his head pounding. Must have been some party! He tried to remember. Was he at a movie opening? Soap Opera Digest Awards? He tried to shift in the bed, groaning when a pain ran up his leg. This isn’t a hangover! With a sudden flash, he recalled the accident. He groaned louder. Must be a hospital. He opened his eyes, looked around the small bedroom and frowned. This doesn’t look like a hospital. Where the hell am I? He tried to sit up again, but the pain shot up his leg, like a white-hot poker. He screamed.

The door flew open and two women entered. He stared at them hazily. “Please. I need help. A doctor.”

The women smiled. The dark-haired woman ran to the side of the bed. She stroked his forehead and whispered soothingly. “It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”

The other woman approached the bed and grabbed his hand. “You’ll be okay. We’re gonna take good care of you.”

The man shook his head. “Please…I need a doctor. Call 911 …or my agent. He’ll know what to do. My name is Randy….”

The women shook their heads. The dark-haired woman smiled. “Don’t you worry. We know your name…Johnny. And we’ll take care of you.”

The other woman smiled at him. “We’re your number one fans!”

The two women reached down to hug him, jostling the bed. He screeched as the pain flared, and then, mercifully, the blackness claimed him.

The women looked at each other, shrugging uncertainly, and then turned their attention back to the now-unconscious man lying in the bed.

“Well…ah guess it’s time to call her,” sighed Pooh regretfully.

“Yes, I think we’d better. Remember…no details other than those that are necessary!” the other woman cautioned, holding up a finger.

“Ah know, ah know!”

<><><><><><><><>

JM sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her fingers through the patient’s hair. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny…do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you?”

“Mmmm…” the man groaned, starting to come around again.

“Shhh…just take it easy,” JM soothed, gently holding him in place. “Everything’s okay…you’re going to be just fine!”

“Wh…where am I?” he moaned, looking around dazedly.

“You’re safe…safe with us and we’re going to take care of you! Just like we always do!”

Why is that not reassuring? He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, but winced in pain. “I think my leg is broken! I need a doctor!”

The woman looked down guiltily. “I’m sorry. We couldn’t access Dr. Brackett’s itinerary. Not that we really tried very hard, but I just couldn’t bring up the information. We’ll be able to treat you shortly, though.” She smiled, patting him on the arm. “As soon as Pooh is finished speaking with our medical advisor.”

The man eyed JM warily. “M-medical advisor?”

“Yes,” she assured. “She’s never let us…or you...down before!”

“R-really?” I think I’d just better play it cool.

“Well…there was that one time she killed you, I just couldn’t believe it! Roy was so devastated, everyone was…but then she wrote another version…where you lived.”

“Oh.” Oh my gosh. This has to be a dream!

The door opened and the other woman bounced in. “He’s awake!” she squealed. “How are ya feelin’?” She looked sympathetically at the wounded man. “Can ah get you anything, darlin’?”

“D-don’t I know you?” he asked, with a thoughtful expression. “You look familiar.”

The dark-haired woman grinned proudly and nudged the other. “Ah told you he’d remember me!”

JM rolled her eyes. “Did you get a hold of her yet?”

Pooh’s excitement fizzled and she suddenly looked apprehensive. “Well, JM…it’s like this.” She wrung her hands and began to pace. “Trish said she ain’t giving us any diagnosis, unless she gets to examine the patient herself.”

“You told her?”

“I had to…she knew anyway. She must have guessed. You know how suspicious they all can be!”

“Oh, Pooh. I can’t believe it!”

“Well, what did you want me to do? We can’t just let him suffer!” She sat down on the other side of the bed and gazed lovingly at the man. “Ah just couldn’t bear to let him suffer.”

The woman across from her burst out laughing. “Oh, right! You LOVE it when he suffers and you know it!”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Pooh’s face. “That just simply isn’t true, JM.”

The helpless man was growing more and more alarmed. He looked up at the women with fear in his eyes. “Wh-what are you going to do with me?”

“Oh, Johnny, we’re going to take good care of you,” JM told him comfortingly.

“We love you, Johnny,” the other woman explained, noticing the fearful look. “We’d never hur…we’d never kill you. Just relax. Everything will be fine.”

“It’s just a shame that Roy isn’t here.” JM shook her head regretfully. “Gay Meadows would have flipped out!”

Roy? Johnny? These women are…oh man! I could be in real trouble here! “Roy?”

The women glanced at him. “Yes, Roy. You know… your partner…Roy? He’s in England or somewhere like that. He must have taken Joanne and the kids on a vacation?” Pooh surmised.

“What IS his daughter’s name, anyway?” JM suddenly asked. “We know his son is Christopher, but what is his daughter’s name?”

“Daughter?”

“You know. What is Roy’s daughter’s name?” She questioned him slowly, taking into account his obviously weakened and confused condition. “Some people call her Jennifer, but some make up their own names. Nobody really knows for sure.”

“It was never mentioned,” Pooh agreed with her friend. “So…tell us.”

“Uhhh…Kev…I mean Roy?” He put his hand up to his forehead. “I think…I need to rest.”

“Oh, mah gosh! We are so sorry! JM, he needs his rest!” She stood up and started toward the door.

“We’ll be right out there…if you need anything, Johnny.”

They hovered in the doorway watching him until he closed his eyes, and then closed the door quietly behind them.

<><><><><><><><>

As dusk was falling upon the secluded cabin, a sudden knock on the door caused the women to jump.

“Do you think it’s her?”

They peered out of the window and spotted the Hertz rental car. “Yup! It has to be her!” Pooh hurried to the door and opened it.

“Where is he?” the woman asked sternly, pushing past the other two. “What have you done to him this time?”

The other two looked at each other and giggled madly. “Wait ‘til you see! Oh, Trish! He’s soooo handsome!”

The proficient, professional demeanor faded abruptly. “Really?” She grinned. “Well, where is he? I can’t believe this! I can’t believe Johnny is actually HERE!”

Pooh glared at the newcomer. “We just need you to fix him up. Then, you GO! He’s ours. Remember? We went through all that trouble to get him.”

Trish shrugged. “Okay. Okay. I’ll fix him. But I’m not leaving. I stay. Or I call the National Enquirer.”

JM and Pooh exchanged a glance. Trish grinned. She knew they’d have to agree.

“Okay,” JM agreed. Reluctantly, Pooh nodded. They needed Trish…for now.

<><><><><><><>

Randy slowly regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to find a new face staring down into his.

“Please,” he begged. “Help me.”

The woman smiled. “I’m going to help you. I’m a nurse. I’ve splinted your leg and I’ve given you a shot to make you more comfortable.”

Finally! Randy was so relieved he nearly cried. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“Anything for you…Johnny! I’m your biggest fan!”

His smile faded as he realized he was still trapped in this nightmare.

<><><><><><><>

“He’s sleeping a lot!” whined Pooh.

Trish smirked. “He’s got a broken leg. I gave him a pain medication. It’ll make him sleep. Look, I splinted his leg. I think it’ll heal well. He’s got a lot of bruises, but his vitals are good. I’d say he suffered a slight concussion, too, but we know Johnny has a hard head. We’ll give him the pain meds as needed, but he’ll be fine. We can take good care of him.”

JM and Pooh exchanged a glance.

“We?” JM asked.

Trish snorted. “Well, you don’t think I’m going to LEAVE now, do you? Besides, what if he suffers complications? You know, Johnny is prone to respiratory problems.”

JM sighed. She looked at Pooh. “She’s right.”

Pooh shook her head. “Ever since that encounter with the monkey….”

Trish smiled. “So, I stay.”

Pooh’s eyes narrowed. “You can stay, but don’t get in our way. We found him. He’s ours.”

“You mean you stole him!”

JM stared innocently at Trish. “We were plannin’ on giving him back…when we’re done with him. You know, we’d never permanently hurt him. Unlike you.”

“That was a contest!” Trish snapped. “Come on, I wrote an alternate ending! What more do you want?”

<><><><><><><>

Randy came blearily to consciousness, aware of someone stroking his head. He smiled. “Is that you, hon?”

“Sure is, darlin’.”

His eyes flew open. The petite southern woman sat beside his bed. He jerked away reflexively. OH, GOD, NO! “Why are you doing this?” he whined.

“I love you, Johnny.” She twirled a strand of his dark hair in her hands before trying to yank out a strand.

He screamed in pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sugar!” She stopped. “I just wanted a lock for my scrapbook. I have your autograph, about 200 pictures, our picture…the hair would be…just the perfect addition, Johnny.”

“Look.” Randy tried to sit up. “I am NOT Johnny. That was just a character.”

Pooh laughed. “And, what a character! Now, I have to ask you something. I hope it’s not upsetting.” She paused.

He stared at her warily.

“I need to know…when you and Roy became captains and you were reminiscing…you were so sad when you talked about Chet. Is it…did Chet…well, what happened to Chet?” Pooh asked earnestly.

Randy shook his head. “There is no Chet!”

Pooh wailed. “Oh, my goodness. I knew it!” She stood up, hurrying from the room screaming, “JM, Trish…the girls on the Newsgroup were right. Poor Chet…he did die!”

From the bed, Randy listened to the sounds of his female captors grieving the fictional character. He sighed deeply. “I am in big trouble here.”

<><><><><><><>

“That is soooo sad!” JM rocked slowly in the antique rocking chair, shaking her head forlornly. “You know…I can almost go along with the “new” Craig Brice, but killing “The Phantom” is…is…unforgivable!”

“Well,” Trish interjected, “I happened to like the old Brice!” She paused, gazing thoughtfully out the window for a few moments before turning back. “I know what you mean, though…the station just wouldn’t be the station with out Chet Kelly.”

Pooh sadly nodded in agreement. “I’ll miss him,” she sighed.

“Wait a second!” JM exclaimed, standing up and almost knocking the antique rocker over. “We don’t have to go along with Chester’s demise! I mean…what is the purpose of writing fan fiction?”

“Huh?” Trish and Pat looked at each other, puzzled.

“We write stories to enhance the original series, right?”

Pooh caught on and nodded, smiling. “Right! I believe you’re on to something there, Junior!”

Both women glanced at Trish, who was shaking her head disagreeably. “No…no…it wouldn’t work!”

“Well, why not?” questioned Pooh with a disappointed scowl.

“Because…” she explained. “Once something has been written into the series and the episode is aired…it’s canon! You can’t change it. I mean there are certain things you can expand on or possibly explain away…but you can’t bring back the dead and have a viable story.”

All three women were now sitting around the table, quietly pondering their possibilities.

“We can’t just let him die,” Pooh whispered.

<><><><><><><><>

Randy sat up in the bed. I have got to get out of here! In spite of the fact that head was throbbing and his leg was a mess, he strained to get a glimpse outside through the bedroom window. These chicks are more than a few sandwiches short of a picnic and, geez...that one tried to rip my hair right out of my head! He ran a hand through his hair, at the memory.

<><><><><><><><>

“I’VE GOT IT!” JM declared, holding up an index finger. “We could have Johnny write a new script! We’ll have him bring Chet back! That would give us the needed credibility!”

“Well…I don’t know,” Pat replied, obviously unconvinced. She took a long gulp of her coffee. “He never actually wrote an episode, so, technically, he isn’t a writer.”

The three women slumped in their chairs again.

“Doesn’t his directing count for anything?” Pooh asked with growing frustration.

“Sorry, but I don’t think so, “ Trish answered sadly. She stood up and walked over to the counter to pour herself another cup of coffee. “Geez, I think I’ve had as much of this today,” she smiled, holding up her mug, “as Roy drinks when he’s waiting for Brackett to….”

The three women suddenly looked at each other with broad smiles.

“That’s it!” Pooh shouted.

“Roy! Roy is the missing piece of the puzzle!”

“Yes! Roy did write the episode All Night Long, and being that he and Johnny are partners…what do you want to bet that Johnny helped Roy write that episode?” Pooh was bouncing up and down excitedly. “Let’s go ask him!”

“Hey! While we’re at it we’ll have him name Jennifer… well, you know what I mean,” JM winked.

“Great idea! You know…we could have him rewrite that script of The Mouse, too! That one has always bugged me!”

“I already wrote that missing scene for you on The Coda Couch, Pooh!”

“Well, yeah…but, still…”

“Do we even broach the subject of the Junior/Pally issue?” Pooh asked, hesitantly.

“Sure! Well, we can just have him throw a lot of them in to the script while he’s writing,” JM grinned, wondering to herself how CJ would ever again be able to justify editing out a “Junior” after this.

When the women entered the room they were shocked to see the object of their affection struggling to pull up the bedroom window.

“Johnny!” the three shouted in unison.

“Oh, you dirty bird!” JM shouted.

The three rushed to the window and pulled their hapless victim down. Randy tried to kick, and screamed in pain as the broken bones were jostled. His stomach heaved and he turned and vomited, spewing the contents of his stomach on JM. Trish grinned as the three tossed their prisoner back onto the bed. Pooh climbed onto the bed, straddling his chest.

“I’ll hold him!” She sighed contentedly. “Oh, God, I’m feeling his chest!”

Trish looked around. “We need some kind of restraints. Oh, Johnny, I hate to tie you down, but you won’t heal if you climb out windows.” She looked at JM, who was looking down at the emesis with a funny look on her face. “JM, I need your help.”

“Huh?” JM looked up. “Sorry. I was just wondering if I should wash this shirt or save it. I mean…POOH...I’m wearing JOHNNY’s VOMIT!”

Trish frowned. “Get a grip. Go clean up.” She marched out of the room to look for restraints.

Pooh and JM exchanged a glance. “She just doesn’t get it,” Pooh stated flatly.

“I know.” JM looked at the door, then turned to Pooh. “We’ll take care of her…when we don’t need her anymore.”

Randy paled. They’re gonna take care of her…Oh, God…they are crazed. This is worse than any soap scene I ever played.” He started to thrash and buck, nearly throwing Pooh.

Pooh leaned down and bit Randy on the arm.

“AGGGGH!” he screamed. He stopped thrashing and rubbed his arm. “What did you do that for?”

Pooh shrugged. “I had to make you stop…and it gives me material for the Squad 51, Where are You contest.”

Randy glared at the brunette on his chest. Just then, Trish re-entered the room, carrying two pieces of rope.

“This will have to do,” she said, quickly tying Randy’s arms. After she had secured him, she looked at Pooh. “You can get off of Johnny now.”

Pooh giggled. “Can’t I stay?”

Both Randy and Trish glared at her. “Geez,” she whined as she climbed down. They stared at him until JM came into the room. She carried a small typewriter and a ream of paper. Randy glanced at her suspiciously.

“Did you tell him?” she asked. The other two shook their heads.

“Good.” JM stood in front of him, like a teacher handing a class their assignment. “Now, Johnny. We have a little job for you. I think you’ll enjoy it as much as we will. While you are enjoying your stay with us, we want you to…earn your keep!” She laughed at her little joke.

Randy exploded. “Earn my keep--!”

JM frowned. “Silence. I am speaking. You hold your tongue, John Roderick Gage, or I’ll make Dixie look like a Girl Scout off to sell her cookies.”

Randy broke off, startled. He stared warily at her.

She smiled. “That’s better. Now, we think Emergency! ended much too abruptly. And, they killed off Chet, and, well, that’s unacceptable. Now, we want you to right all the wrongs.”

“What?” Randy looked confused.

“You will write us a feature-length Emergency! script. You will include what happened to each character. You will need to make it a Johnny-angst story; you’re just so cute when you are hurt, Johnny! And, we want Roy’s family to appear, too…and tell us his kids’ real names. Maybe you can take them camping at your ranch.”

“And, could you give us some family history for Johnny?” Trish added. “Like, what really happened between you and your father? Did he beat you?”

“My fath…” Randy shook his head.

“Oh, and we need Roy to be completely worried about you,” Pooh said. “And, you should get hit by no less than three water bombs. Oh, and I think Stoker should get to say a few sentences.”

“Don’t forget Henry!” JM piped up. “He was our favorite dog.”

The others nodded. “Shower scenes!” Pooh crowed. “We want Johnny shower scenes.”

Trish frowned. “They didn’t show them in Emergency!”

“Well, they will now,” Pooh stated. She ran a finger lightly down Randy’s restrained arm. “Maybe you could get a cute lil’ Southern girlfriend to come rub that back.”

JM sighed. “POOH!”

Pooh shrugged. “Sorry, Ah got carried away!”

JM glared at Pooh. Then, she turned to Randy. “We don’t want to rush you, Johnny. But, here’s some paper and there’s the typewriter. We’ll be back.” She threw the supplies on the bed, jostling Randy’s broken leg. Then, she gestured to Pooh. “Let’s go.”

Pooh started to leave, turning once to throw a kiss to the injured man. He watched them depart, then stared helplessly at the typewriter and paper.

“Man,” he said aloud, shaking his head. “I did that dumb show in the seventies. I’m lucky I even remember the characters. You know what they say: if you can remember the seventies, you weren’t there.” He laughed ruefully to himself, then flopped back onto the pillow. “I’m doomed!”

Continued on Tigger's site!