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 !  The Perils of Janeane, part 10, the last ... almost

The Many Misadventures of Little Myth JG
An Original Comic Adventure Series By

George "Rusty" Datt

** Note - Terms used in these adventure scripts:
O.S. = Off Screen
V.O. = Voice Over
EST = Establishing Shot
INT = Interior
EXT = Exterior
POV = Point Of View
INSERT = A Camera Shot Usually Focusing On An Object


PART 10.

SCENE I

INT - DOWNTOWN CHICAGO, NBC TOWER, 2ND FLOOR - DAYTIME

An enthusiastic studio audience is crammed into their seats at the well-worn soundstage for the "Jerry Springer Show". Onstage are seated from left: Patricia Heaton, Natalie Maines, Natalie Merchant, and Janeane.

Patricia is flawlessly coiffed, made-up, and dressed to the nines in tight blouse, short skirt, sheer hosiery and pink high heels. Natalie Maines is wearing a cute cowgirl costume replete with vest, hat and sequined boots. Natalie Merchant and Janeane are in jeans and T-shirts. Janeane's pink shirt is sleeveless with "Free Speech" markered on the front and displaying her massive shoulder tattoos prominently.

Jerry Springer enters from the rear of the audience and the crowd begins to chant.

AUDIENCE: JERR-EE! JERR-EE! JERR-EE!

Springer waves and proceeds down an aisle close to the celebrities on stage, putting a microphone to his mouth.

JERRY
Welcome to another episode of
"The Jerry Springer Show".
(The crowd cheers)
Our topic today is "Short,
Strident, Celebrity Women",
and our guests are: Patricia
Heaton, who plays Debra Barone
on the hit CBS sitcom
"Everybody Loves Raymond",
(more cheering)
Natalie Maines lead singer of
the popular Country and Western
singing group "The Dixie Chicks",
(even more cheering)
Natalie Merchant, singer and
recording artist,
(slightly less cheering)
and Janeane Garofalo, comedienne,
actress, and political activist.

There is confused murmuring and muffled discussion from the audience.

Jerry Springer turns toward the studio audience.

JERRY
You remember - the little girl
from "The Truth About Cats and
Dogs." She's dyed herself blonde
now -- for some reason.

Everyone cheers, and Janeane waves timidly.

JERRY
All right, now that we've
cleared that up, let's meet
our guests.
(approaching Patricia)
My first guest is only five-two
without her heels, but she stands
tall as a TV celebrity. Patricia
Heaton, you have the female lead
in the highest-rated comedy show
on network television, you've won
two Emmys, and you are the mother
of four strapping boys in real life,
(the crowd cheers wildly)
and yet, you often find yourself
embroiled in controversy with
your employer, isn't that correct?

PATRICIA
(smiling and tossing her hair)
Well, Jerry, sometimes you have
to stand on principle. All of us
walked out briefly before the
season started, that's true, but
we had some important contractual
issues to resolve, especially
pertaining to residual payments.
That's all settled now, and we're
like one big, happy family on
the set.

The crowd cheers again.

JERRY
Yes, but haven't you also been
pressuring CBS about script content
and creating other projects for
you to star in?

PATRICIA
Well, Jerry, I want the network to
provide me with more opportunities
to express my sexuality onscreen, as
well as the character I portray. As
the honorary chairperson of Feminists
for Life, I believe that it's important
to reverse the trend that has excluded
women over the age of forty from
playing roles that display their physical
and sexual attractiveness. I consider
myself to be living, breathing, proof
that no woman, once she enters middle-
age, should have to be less attractive
and desirable, no matter how much
she has to pay her plastic surgeon.

She crosses her legs seductively, and the crowd goes wild with cheers, hoots, and wolf-whistles.

JERRY
(leering approvingly)
Well, I have to say, you're my
kind of feminist, Patricia.

The audience hoots up a storm. Patricia Heaton smiles broadly, and Janeane shakes her head in disgust.

Springer turns to Natalie Maines next.

JERRY
Natalie Maines, at five-feet, three
inches in height, you are the lead
singer of one of the most popular
female musical trios in the history
of the music business, yet you are
never afraid to involve yourself in
controversy, either, right?

NATALIE MAINES
Well, I guess y'all could say
that, Jerry. My daddy just taught
me never to take no bull from no
sidewinders. When that recording
company tried to hog up all of our
royalties, we took 'em to court and
sued the britches off 'em; and I'm
happy to say, we not only won, but
we set a precedent for all other
recording groups and artists.

The audience cheers in approval.

JERRY
That's great, but when the war
with Iraq broke out, didn't you
also get in trouble for saying
that you were ashamed to be from
Texas, the same state as
President Bush?

The audience boos heartily.

NATALIE MAINES
Wait, wait! We apologized for
that afterward.

She removes her cowboy hat and produces several sheets of paper, from which she begins to read.

NATALIE MAINES
"As a concerned American citizen,
I apologize to President Bush
because my remark was disrespectful.
I now realize that whoever holds
that office should be treated
with the utmost respect."

The crowd unleashes a deafening blast of approval. Natalie Maines continues to read.

NATALIE MAINES
"...I also realize now that I'm
supposed to just sing and look
cute so our fans won't have
anything to upset them while
they're cheating on their wives
or getting in drunken bar fights
or driving around in their pickup
trucks shooting highway signs
and small animals."

The crowd cheers again.

NATALIE MAINES
(angry and amazed)
You trailer trash trolls! Don't
y'all know I'm being sarcastic?

The audience growls indecisively.

JERRY
Sorry, Natalie. They can't even
spell "sarcastic". That's how we
screen them out from the Maury
Povich fans. Still, you might
want to put your spurs on, just
in case they figure it out by
the first commercial break.

Springer moves away from Natalie Maines.

JERRY
Okay, maybe we should try our
luck with another Natalie.
(turning to Natalie Merchant)
Though only five-feet one,
Natalie Merchant has a big voice
and just as big a presence in
the recording world. After
scoring commercial success and
a gold album with "Ten Thousand
Maniacs", she chose to desert
the group in search of a quirky,
independent recording career of
her own, producing the critically
acclaimed, profoundly introspective
album "Tigerlily". Welcome, Natalie.

NATALIE MERCHANT
Hi, Jerry.

The crowd cheers.

JERRY
(looking down at
his note cards)
Um, I'm really not sure why we
have you on the show today. You're
not that strident, or at least you
didn't make an idiot of yourself
badmouthing the Bush administration
like the other Natalie...

NATALIE MERCHANT
(visibly agitated)
No, that's not true! I opposed
the war, too.

The audience grumbles.

NATALIE MERCHANT
(glaring at audience)
I did! I involved myself with
MoveOn and the Howard Dean campaign
after my recent trip to Europe,
because I came home all the more
resolved to DO SOMETHING to help
shake that nest of bloodthirsty
hawks out of our nation's capitol
by Fall 2004. It's in my latest
fan letter, I swear.

The audience continues to grumble, unconvinced.

NATALIE MERCHANT
(standing in front of her chair)
I tell you, it's true! I even
attended a house party to view Robert
Greenwald's film about the war in Iraq.
(turning and pointing to Janeane)
Just ask her. She was there, too.
One of her dogs knocked over the buffet
table and spilled shrimp cocktail
in my lap.

Janeane nods soberly.

The audience finally boos loudly.

NATALIE MERCHANT
(beaming and reassured)
That's more like it!
(to Jerry)
How dare you insinuate that I'm
not strident enough! I'll have you
know that VH1 referred to me as
a pop-diva.

AUDIENCE
STRI-DENT! STRI-DENT! STRI-DENT!

JERRY
(throwing hands in air)
Okay, okay. I'm sold already.
(approaching Janeane)
So that brings us to our last guest,
a little lady with big opinions. At
just over five feet in height,
Janeane Garofalo fearlessly pursues
her feminist, liberal, anti-looskism
agenda against the Goliaths of the
political and media world. Hi,
Janeane.

JANEANE
(warily)
Hi, Jerry.

JERRY
(studying note cards)
Wow, you have really made some
strong statements as a political
activist. You have accused President
Bush and the entire Republican party
of being dumb and mean, and you have
referred to his administration as
the "Forty-third Reich".

The audience boos.

JERRY
You have also denounced this country's
forefathers as rich, slave-owning white
men, and you defend the rights of gay,
naked protesters who burn the flag
and march in parades.

The audience boos and jeers even louder.

JERRY
You even appeared on Bill O'Reilly's
show and promised to apologize if the
war in Iraq was a success and then
reneged.

JANEANE
(interrupting)
That's not true. The war in Iraq is
still a work in progress, and by
no means a masterpiece.

A group of large, angry women push their way to the front of the audience and Jerry extends them a microphone.

1ST WOMAN
(sipping a Big Gulp)
You ho! You ain't nothin' but a
lyin' traitor! You told Bill
O'Reilly that if the Iraqi
people was out in the streets wavin'
flags and cheerin' our soldiers
when they took over Baghdad, you
would crawl on broken glass
and apologize!

JANEANE
So what? What does that prove? They
cheered Jesus and then crucified him
a week later. Maybe if people like you
actually read those Bibles instead of
just waving them around, you might
know that. The war in Iraq is far
from over. Just look at the ongoing
guerilla conflicts if you have any
remaining doubts about the evil,
flawed underlying agenda of the
Bush administration.

2ND WOMAN
(pointing a half-eaten
chili dog at Janeane)
You're a traitor, like Jane Fonda!
You don't care nothin' bout our
boys over there fightin' that war!
Why don't you just marry Saddam
and have his devil child?

JANEANE
(turning red-faced)
How can you say that? How does
protesting an unfair and unjustified
military action show less respect
for human life? Oooooh, I don't
have to take this --

Janeane closes her eyes momentarily and then reaches behind her chair, producing a copy of "Overcoming Anger". She begins to read to herself furiously.

3RD WOMAN
(displaying chubby fists
over her head)
You ain't nothin' but a lazy,
troublemakin' slut and a stinkin'
commie! If you don't like this
country, why don't you go live in
China where you can wear your
pajamas all day long?

AUDIENCE
(chanting)
PINK-O! PINK-O! PINK-O!

Janeane begins to tremble and clenches her grip tightly on her book. Finally she erupts, tearing pages to shreds and throwing them and the remaining book into the studio audience. She stands up from her chair and rushes close to the crowd, holding up the middle fingers on both of her hands.

JANEANE
(enraged)
Here, here are a couple of visual
aids from my recent lecture at Drake
University! God knows it's as close
as any of you Cro-Magnon cretins will
ever get to a college education --
except maybe for clown college!

The women begin to push toward the stage, with a substantial mob backing them up. Jerry Springer is caught in the press.

JERRY
Security! Security! What am I
paying you for?

Jerry's muscle-bound, black-shirted security team rushes to interpose themselves between the rampaging audience and the women onstage, with Jerry caught in between.

SECURITY CHIEF
(struggling and grunting)
It's no good, boss! We can't hold
them! I told you it was a mistake
to give out those free tickets
with the 99-cent menu at Wendy's!

The mass of humanity begins to rock slowly but steadily toward the women on the stage. The celebrities stand up from their chairs and recoil in horror, until they are finally backed against a brick wall of the studio. Natalie Maines grabs a chair and holds it in front of her like a shield.

NATALIE MAINES
Look out! Incomin'!

The stampeding women overpower the security guards and swarm the celebrities. Patricia Heaton is heard shrieking hysterically, and then emerges from an opening in the bottom of the pile, with her makeup smudged and a false eyelash askew.

PATRICIA HEATON
(baring her teeth)
Grrr! Bite them around the ankles
like a terrier dog! It's our only
chance! I learned that in a
catfight with Brad Garrett.

Natalie Maines fights savagely, breaking chairs over the top of the pile, like a cowboy in a barroom brawl.

Janeane finally gets a boost from Natlie Merchant's shoulders and jumps to the top of the pile, with one of Patricia Heaton's pink stiletto pumps in her hand, flailing desperately with the heel as a weapon.

Finally Janeane strikes a blow directly against Jerry Springer's head, puncturing his temple. Immediately liquid begins to gush out of the wound - but white rather than red.

1ST WOMAN
Oh look! Just like I always thought
-- Jerry is actually crème-filled!

2ND WOMAN
And I'm on a high-carbohydrate diet!
Sweet!

The large women all converge on Jerry, fighting each other to lap up the fluid seeping from his wound. Janeane, looking on in horror, screams at the top of her lungs.

JANEANE
(hands on her forehead)
Oh my god, what have I done!
EEEEEEEEEEK!

CUT TO:

INT. JANEANE'S MANHATTAN APARTMENT - BEDROOM -- LATE AT NIGHT

Janeane is sitting bolt upright in bed, soaked in perspiration, while her boyfriend Chris Anderson holds her by the shoulders and shakes her.

CHRIS
Wake up! Wake up! You're
having another nightmare!

JANEANE
(blinking)
Oh...what the --?

CHRIS
So what was it this time -- the Springer Show again?

Janeane nods, while running a hand through her matted hair.

CHRIS
Man, I'm getting sick of this.
That's the third time this week.
You wake up all screaming and
sweaty, and then that hair
dye starts to stink like singed
paint. It's really hell on
my allergies.

JANEANE
(indignant)
That's not true. I only use eco-
friendly, biodegradable colorings.

CHRIS
(loosening his grip
on her shoulders)
Oh yeah? Then why do I have to pick
them up for you at the Sherwin-Williams store? But that's irrelevant. What's
more important is the emotional damage
you're doing to yourself. For the last
time, I'm telling you, get some
therapy!

JANEANE
(sitting up on the edge
of the bed and rubbing
her eyes)
No, it's just that vegan pizza
I had for dinner repeating on me.

CHRIS
Bull. Ever since you changed agents
and you started to get busy again,
you've been having these nightmares.
I'm not Freudian, but I think we both
recognize there's something subconscious
going on here, and you need to confront
it.

JANEANE
That's not it at all. I've been
busy before. I can handle it. I mean,
I almost made the A-list back in the
mid-nineties. Just because my career
"mellowed out" a little after the year
2000, that doesn't mean it can't heat up
again, right? It's not like I'm afraid of
success or something. Hey, I deserve it
as much as the next celebrity, don't I?
I've earned it, I'm due, my number was
set to come up eventually, so why
shouldn't I be busy again?

Janeane grabs Chris by the lapels of his pajamas and appears to be freaking out.

JANEANE
Damnit, I can't handle this! I can't
handle success! I'm not used to it! It's
not natural for me! I know something is
going to go terribly, horribly wrong
anytime now! Please, help me!

Chris pushes her away and slaps her smartly across the face.

CHRIS
Snap out of it!

Janeane responds instantaneously by punching Chris in the jaw so hard that he falls out of his side of the bed and lands on the floor.

JANEANE
(sighing)
Thanks. I needed that.

CHRIS
(angry and confused, rubbing his jaw)
Then why the hell did you hit me back?

JANEANE
That's what I meant. That's what I
needed. I just need to work out a
little of this penned-up aggression.
Maybe I'll take a cold shower and do
some shadowboxing. I've got an early
flight to LA tomorrow, anyway.
(getting up and heading to bathroom)
Want some ice for the jaw?

CHRIS
Yeah, that would be good.

JANEANE
Then grab a hammer and screwdriver
and chisel a big chunk off the inside
of the refrigerator. That's why I
never defrost it.

She exits with Chris still sprawled on the floor.

CHRIS
(still rubbing jaw)
Ohhh, I coulda been a contender...

SCENE II

INT. COMMERCIAL AIRLINER - JUST AFTER DAWN, NEW YORK TIME

(Janeane is on an early morning flight to the West Coast, dialing on her cell phone.)

JANEANE
Hello? Hello?

A recorded voice is heard coming through the telephone.

VOICE
"Hello, this is the Will M. Morse
theatrical agency, where we always
say, 'A Star is made, not born.' We
are not open for business at this
time. If you know your party's
extension, please dial that number
and leave a message at the tone.
Thank you."

JANEANE
(punching buttons)
Hello, Will, this is Janeane Garofalo,
and I'm on my way to LA to for the
next couple of days to fulfill that
itinerary you gave me. I'm really
grateful for all of this work you've
been getting me, but I just wanted to
say I may have a little trouble
squeezing it all in. Call me
back. Thanks.

Janeane settles back into her seat and scans the pages of a preprinted work schedule, as a stewardess approaches.

STEWARDESS
Can I get you anything, miss?

JANEANE
(frowning)
Yeah, a body double. But I'll settle
for a latte -- with extra sugar.

FADE TO:

INT. A HOLLYWOOD SOUNDSTAGE - LATER THAT MORNING

Janeane is seated at a console on the set of "$25,000 Pyramid" directly across from Jessica Simpson, as host Donny Osmond emcees.

DONNY
(turning to reveal his backside)
Hey, girls, what do you think? Am I
showing a panty line from my LDS
Temple Garments? That's why I
ordered the new bikini shorts.

JANEANE
No, no, good from here.

JESSICA
That's why I don't wear underwear --
well, that and the fact that I
usually forget to put them on.

DONNY
(acknowledging green light on camera)
Okay, we're ready to roll...

The theme music plays and cameras start taping.

DONNY
Hi, I'm Donny Osmond, and welcome to
another episode of "$25,000 Pyramid".
As part of our Celebrity Challenge
Week, today we will have Janeane
Garofalo and Jessica Simpson competing
for their favorite charities and home
contestants.
(turning to celebrities)
So, what are you ladies up to these
days?

JANEANE
(clearing her throat)
Well, Donny, I'm just coming off a
year's worth of anti-war and political
activist appearances, and now I'm
trying to resume my entertainment
career. I have a lot of upcoming film
work and television appearances, along
with some game shows and commercial
endorsements.

DONNY
Good for you, Janeane. How about
you, Jessica?

JESSICA
(furrowing her brow)
You know, singing and stuff. And having
sex with my husband in the back of the
tour bus. Oh, and I'm working on a new
pop-up book for kids.

DONNY
That sounds interesting. How long
have you been a children's author?

JESSICA
I'm not. I meant I was reading it
in the Green Room before the show.

DONNY
(dumbfounded)
Rrrright. Okay, have you decided who
will give the clues?

JANEANE
Obviously, I will.

DONNY
All right. Our first category is
"Things That You Eat". You have
thirty seconds as soon as you
give the first clue. Go!

The first clue on Janeane's teleprompter is "white meat".

JANEANE
Umm, tuna or chicken...

JESSICA
(flustered)
Oh, I dunno.
(pouting and tearing up)
How are you supposed to tell them
apart when the label on the can
says "Chicken of the Sea"?

JANEANE
(shaking her head)
Never mind. Pass. Next word.

The next word is "pig".

JANEANE
Uh, where you get ham, pork chops,
bacon...

JESSICA
Room Service? Applebee's? Queen
Latifah's refrigerator?

JANEANE
(frustrated, shaking
her head rapidly)
No, something that rolls in
the mud and squeals...

JESSICA
Christina Aguilera in her next
video?

JANEANE
(gripping the table tightly)
No, no, no!

JESSICA
(whining)
Well, give me a clue I can
understand...

JANEANE
(sighing)
Okay ... what Joan Rivers called me
at the 1997 Emmy Awards for not
dressing up...

JESSCA
(beaming)
Pig! Everyone knows that!

The bell dings to indicate a point scored. The next word on Janeane's teleprompter is "peach".

JANEANE
Umm ... pink and fruity and fuzzy...

JESSICA
Richard Simmons! George Michael!

JANEANE
(shaking her head)
No ... Melba, flambé ...

JESSICA
Ohmigod! You mean Ricky Martin is
gay, too?

JANEANE
(losing her patience)
No, you twit. THINK! Something you
eat, pink and
fruity and fuzzy ...

JESSICA
(timidly)
A watermelon?

JANEANE
(exploding)
A watermelon? Since when is a
watermelon fuzzy?

JESSICA
Um, I dunno, maybe one that missed
the last bikini wax? Or one of those
European watermelons that don't shave?

The buzzer sounds to indicate time up, and Janeane lays her head down on the console.

JANEANE
Thank god.

JESSICA
(grinning vapidly)
So how did we do?

DONNY
Well, you got one point, Jessica, so
that's still a lot better than your
IQ. You are one ditzy broad. We have
GOT to do an album together someday
-- or maybe a marriage. We'll be
right back after this commercial
break with another round of "Pyramid".

JANEANE
(rubbing her temples)
Can somebody please bring me
an aspirin?

CUT TO:

INT. ANOTHER SOUNDSTAGE DECORATED LIKE THE INTERIOR OF A BAR - LATE MORNING

Janeane is seated at a table opposite the Bush twins, Jenna and Barbara, each nursing a large, frothy mug of beer, preparing to film a Miller Lite commercial.

JANEANE
In the political world, many of us
dissent on a lot of important issues,
but one thing that we can all agree
on is what makes Miller Lite the
people's choice: its unmistakably
great taste.

JENNA
Less filling.

JANEANE
Great taste.

BARBARA
Less filling. We've got you outvoted
again.

JANEANE
(leaning across table)
I demand a recount!

A group of police officers swarm the stage, approaching the table with billy clubs raised. Someone in the background yells, "Raid! Raid!"

JENNA
(getting up from table)
The great thing about Miller Lite's
less filling blend of ingredients is
it keeps you light on your feet when
you need to be.

BARBARA
(following her sister)
You got that right, sis. Let's book!

Both of the Bush twins rush offstage, while the police proceed to beat Janeane mercilessly.

Janeane covers her head with her arms to ward off the blows.

JANEANE
Ooof! Ouch! What are you hitting
me for? I'm not underage!

POLICEMAN
We know that. We just like to
beat up on pinkos. Mr. Ashcroft
says hello.

JANEANE
(collapsing to floor)
Oh well, at least you know you're
drinking a great tasting beer when it
mixes well with the flavor of your
own blood...

They continue to whale on Janeane as the camera fades.

CUT TO:

INT. SOUNDSTAGE FOR DENNIS MILER SHOW - NOONISH

Janeane, with bandaged face, is seated on the "Varsity Panel" of Dennis Miller's new CNBC show, along with California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, Charlton Heston, and Moe the chimp. Moe is looking bored with her arms folded, while Heston and Schwarzenegger are both asleep and snoring loudly.

JANEANE
(surveying the snoozing guests)
Wow, Dennie, you're really knocking
them out on this new show of yours.

Charlton Heston lets out a big, grunting snore, and his toupee slides off the side of his head.

MILLER
(annoyed and defensive)
Power napping is essential to the
unmitigated perpetuation of the
conservative intellectual dynamic.
No less and unequivocally impunable
authority than the Gipper himself,
President Ronald Wilson Reagan,
established that concept beyond
repudiation during his consecrated
term as chief executive. But I
digress. Have your deficient liberal
thought processes been able to reason
the slightest scintilla of response to
the query I posed to you before the
last commercial break?

JANEANE
(thumbing through pocket Thesaurus)
Um, yeah, just give me another minute.
I still have a couple of more words
to look up...Ooh!

She jumps suddenly in her chair as Governor Schwarzenegger reaches over and pinches her thigh without awakening.

MILLER
You must pardon my good friend
the governor. He tends to be a
"sleep-groper".

JANEANE
Why? It's not like HE pardons
anyone. Just ask Kevin Cooper.

MILLER
Poppycock! Balderdash! That is
exactly the sort of inane, low-ball
repartee I would anticipate from a
limousine liberal luminary such as
yourself. In fact, I feel a rant
coming on.
(looking into camera)
Quick, give me a close-up here.

No response from the camera crew.

JANEANE
Sorry. I think you put the
cameramen to sleep, too.
(scanning the studio)
Also the studio audience.
(lighting a cigarette)
Are you sure this conservative
intellectual shtick is working
for you, Dennis? Take it from me;
liberal and strident make for much
better sound bytes.

MILLER
Only a brain-dead, incurable Trotskyite
could observe the situation unfolding
in this country over the last two
years and not --

JANEANE
Oh, cram it, Poindexter. Let's be
honest. 9/11 was tough on all of
us, but instead of working out in
therapy your inner demons and rage
issues, it's really much easier to
be an in-your-face-prick and pretend
you're being patriotic; and I think
that's worked out really well for
you, Dennis.

MILLER
(flabbergasted)
How dare you! That's not true.

JANEANE
(blowing smoke ring)
Oh yeah? Look at this show. It's
a miserable, freakin' waste of your
former potential. Just last week I
heard you had the corpse of Strom
Thurmond sitting on this panel, and
no one even noticed for three days.

MILLER
(flushed and angry)
As usual for you, that is a gross
misinterpretation of the actual
facts. First, give credit where
credit is due -- it was an absolutely
extraordinary embalming job. Second,
he was still the only man to ever
throw a scare into Gloria Allred when
she tried to shake hands with him.
Besides, I just wanted today's youth
to have a chance to observe firsthand
the enduring legacy of a century worth
of conservative leadership.

JANEANE
(flicking ashes onto
Charlton Heston's head)
Hmm, I think I might have opted
for a bronze bust myself, but I
guess that just goes to prove what
they say about those hairplugs
cutting off the circulation ...

Suddenly, Moe the chimp produces a banana and jumps down from her chair. She swipes Janeane's lighter, climbs over to Miller, thrusts the banana into his mouth and ignites the peel.

MILLER
Mmmm! Oooooh...

Miller's eyes glaze over and he goes into a chemically-induced trance. The chimp takes Janeane by the hand and they exit stage right.

JANEANE
(to chimp)
Don't worry. I've got a contact on
"NYPD Blue". They're looking for
someone to play Denis Franz's
twin sister...

CUT TO:

INT. COMMERCIAL AIRLINER - MID AFTERNOON

Janeane is on her cell phone again, as she takes a return flight to New York.

JANEANE
(holding bag of ice
against her head)
Will? Will M. Morse? I'm glad I
caught you in the office. Listen, I know you've got a couple of more
gigs lined up today in the New
York area, but I'm really tired.
Is there any chance we can
postpone or reschedule?

The voice of her agent is heard over the phone.

WILL M. MORSE
C'mon, little princess. Buck up.
Remember what Edison said about
success: It's ninety-nine percent
pure old flop sweat.

JANEANE
I thought he said that about genius...

MORSE
See? You're still sharp as a tack.
Take a little carbohydrate break,
get the blood sugar pumped up
again, and you'll be good as new.

JANEANE
I don't know...

MORSE
Hey, remember, you came to me
and said you wanted to get your
career off the critical list,
right? And you said you'd be
willing to do whatever it takes.
Don't punk out on me now, kiddo.
We're almost there. The top of the
hill is coming into view.

JANEANE
(sighing)
Okay, but you better schedule an
off day soon. The fleas in Willie Nelson's beard aren't as laid back
as I'm feeling right about now...

CUT TO:

INT. IMAGE GROUP PRODUCTION CENTER - NEW YORK CITY - LATE AFTERNOON

Janeane is on the stage of the "Emeril Live" cooking show with famed chef Emeril Lagasse. He is frying dough balls in a skillet while she stands alongside him, exhausted and nearly asleep, with her elbows on the table and head cradled in her hands.

EMERIL
Okay, we're back from break, and
I've got Janeane Garofalo, actress,
comedienne and political activist
helping me here. In honor of you
bein' here today, Janeane, I thought
we would do one of my all-time
favorite things: frying doughnut
holes!

JANEANE
(rousing herself and
grabbing rolling pin)
Lying doughnut hole? Where?
Let me at him!
(waking up)
Oh, sorry. I haven't done this
cooking stuff since Martha Stewart's
show.

EMERIL
Don't worry. That's a normal reaction.
I hear she turned Rosey Grier off on
needlepoint cold turkey. Could you
hand me the garlic, please?

JANEANE
(yawning)
Sure.

She passes the garlic shaker to Emeril who holds it poised above the skillet.

EMERIL
(to studio audience)
Whaddya say we kick it up a notch?

The audience cheers enthusiastically, as Janeane starts to doze off again.

EMERIL
(shouting)
OKAY, LET'S KICK IT UP!

JANEANE
(awaking, startled)
Huh? Okay, kick it up...

She reaches for the burner knob and twists it to high. The sizzling oil ignites in the skillet and catches to Emeril's hair and eyebrows. He runs screaming and blazing into the studio audience. In desperation, he unwraps the turban from a Middle-Eastern man's head and uses it to smother the flames.

Emeril, panting, pulls the chef's hat off the counter and slaps it onto man's head.

EMERIL
Thanks a lot, pal. Here,
trade ya even.

Emeril steps back up onstage and stirs the charred remnants in the skillet, spearing one piece with a fork and tasting it.

EMERIL
Mmmm! Charcoal-flavored! I love it!
Way to go, Janeane!

The audience applauds Janeane. She smiles meekly, then nods off and plunges face first into a bowl of whipped cream.

CUT TO:

INT. ORANGE COUNTY CHOPPERS HEADQUARTERS - IN THE HUDSON VALLEY -- ROCK TAVERN, NEW YORK - SUNSET

A heavily bruised and bandaged Janeane staggers into the headquarters of Orange County Choppers wearing a black leather jumpsuit, with a piece of automotive trim wrapped around her neck and holding a severed steering column in one hand.

JANEANE
Sorry I'm late, guys, but I caught a
quick nap on the way up from the city.
Unfortunately, I was driving at the
time.
(tossing the car parts aside)
Okay, are we ready to shoot
the American Choppers segment?

The Teutul family clusters around Janeane. Big Paulie, the patriarch of the family, is flanked by sons Paul, Jr. and Mikey.

BIG PAULIE
Hey, Janeane, I was just about
ready to chew my muttonchops off.
We been workin' overtime to finish
this bike for that promotion that
you and the MoveOn folks are gonna
do. If Paulie here wasn't so doggoned
slow and always wastin' time...

PAUL JR
(angry)
Hey, get out of my face! If you
don't like the way I'm doing things,
then go build your own bikes.

BIG PAULIE
(red-faced)
What the hell do ya think I did before
I gave you a job here, you little &%$%?
(pounding his chest)
I'm still runnin' this operation.
That's all's I'm sayin'. And if you
don't like that, then maybe you
need to go somewhere...

The father and son square off as if about to come to blows.

MIKEY
(completely oblivious)
Hey, can someone give me money
for the vending machine?

JANEANE
(standing between Paul Sr. and Jr.)
Guys, guys! Come on, let's get
this done. It's getting late.

They relent, and Big Paulie escorts Janeane to the center of the shop with his enormous arm around her.

BIG PAULIE
Y'know, when I first heard about
this project, I wasn't too keen
on it, because we done a lot of
patriotic bikes, especially after 9/11,
(pointing to her exposed shoulders)
but then when I seen you got tattoos
even bigger than mine, I said what
the hell, this chick ain't all bad.
(waving a hand at finished
custom motorcycle)
Well, here she is.

The camera pans to an exquisitely detailed chopper motorbike shaped like an enormous pretzel.

PAUL JR
Behold, the Peace Pretzel Bike! It's
painted candyapple brown with salt-
grain graphics, and it runs on beer!

JANEANE
(fingering the bike)
Oh wow! This is super! We're hoping
to use this to capture the interest
of the Nascar bubba guys who have
traditionally voted Republican.
(climbing onto the bike)
Could someone give me a hand here?

BIG PAULIE
You ever ridden a bike before?

JANEANE
I used to be a bicycle messenger
in Boston, but that was a long time
ago...

BIG PAULIE
Better not take no chances,
then. Vinnie!

Vinnie, Paul Jr.'s buddy, rushes to the bike and begins installing training wheels on the rear.

PAUL JR
(starting ignition)
Okay, that gets her running.
Mikey, show Janeane how the
controls work.

MIKEY
(eating candy bar)
Okay, just listen and I'll show
you everything.

Janeane nods as she straps on a pink pearlescent helmet adorned with bleeding heart decals. The camera team from Discovery Channel gets into position while Mikey instructs Janeane.

Finally Mikey steps aside and Janeane revs the throttle.

BIG PAULIE
(to Mikey)
Are you sure you showed her
everything?

MIKEY
Hey, as many times as I failed my
motorcycle driving test, how could
I not know it all by now? I stood
right in front of her and showed
her how each control is
supposed to work.

BIG PAULIE
(grabbing Mikey by his long hair)
You sure you didn't forget nothin'?

MIKEY
What could I forget?

CAMERAMAN
Okay, Janeane, we want to get a shot
of you riding into the sunset,
whenever you're ready...

Janeane revs the bike, releases the clutch, and goes roaring ahead full speed - right into the closed garage door, with terrifying crashing noises and smoke clouds.

Mikey looks wide-eyed at the garage door opener remote control unit in his hand and then sheepishly at his father.

MIKEY
(shrugging)
Hey, you're always askin' me
if I was born in a barn...

Big Paulie grabs him around the neck and chokes him viciously.

CUT TO:

INT. JANEANE'S MANHATTAN APARTMENT - LATE AT NIGHT

The front door opens to Janeane's apartment, and Chris Anderson pushes her over the threshold in a wheelchair. She is heavily bandaged, her eyes are both black, and she is wearing a neck collar. There is an IV drip attached to her wheelchair.

CHRIS
Okay, we're home. At least now you
can finally get some rest. First
thing tomorrow I'm calling that
agent and telling him you are
completely physically and mentally
exhausted, and to hell with his
damned schedule for a while.
(pulling cup out of a Starbuck's bag)
Here, I got you a Grande Hazelnut latte.
(hooking the coffee cup into the IV line)
There you go, honey.

JANEANE
(smiling, as IV
drains into her arm)
Ahhhh...

The phone rings. Chris tries to ignore it.

JANEANE
(weakly, barely above a whisper)
Got to answer it. Could be important.

Chris shakes his head in disgust and punches the speaker button on the answering machine before he storms out of the room. A voice is heard through the phone.

VOICE
Janeane? Will M. Morse here.
Heard you had a little trouble
with the Teutuls.

JANEANE
I had a little trouble everywhere
today. This schedule is just too much.

MORSE
You're not busted up too bad, are you?

JANEANE
(groaning)
Yeah, but I wouldn't let them
install the halo. I was afraid it
would conflict with my non-religious
beliefs.

MORSE
Smart move. Those things are worse
than braces in a close-up shot.
Listen, I've got a monster gig for
you first thing tomorrow morning.

JANEANE
(trying to shake her
head in the collar)
Ouch. No, Will, I can't do this
anymore...

MORSE
Listen, listen. This is a deal
like the Hollywood Walk of Fame,
only here in New York. Bloomberg and
Donald Trump came up with the idea,
see, like to immortalize Big Apple
celebs. All you have to do is
plant your little tootsies in a
patch of cement, smile and act
gracious. All the big New York stars
are doing it now: Letterman, Conan,
Rosie -- the Reverend Jen even
stuck her elf ears in.

JANEANE
I don't know...

MORSE
Hey, did I mention, the people from
Progress Media are gonna be there,
and so are Al Gore's television
network bigwigs? If they like what
they see, you got a great chance of
getting that talk show deal you always
wanted, one way or the other. You're
reaching for the brass ring, girl.

JANEANE
(wincing in pain)
In that case, bring an extra tube of
Ben Gay and count me in...

SCENE III

EXT. LOWER MANHATTAN -- CONSTRUCTION SITE NEAR THE HUDSON RIVER - EARLY MORNING

Accompanied by her agent Will M. Morse and his secretary, a stiff and wobbly Janeane approaches a large patch of wet concrete in a desolate construction zone.

Morse is a short, swarthy character in a checked sport coat, loud tie, and fedora hat and sporting dark horn-rimmed glasses with moustache and goatee. His secretary is a matronly, buxom woman wearing a purple pantsuit, large, round sunglasses and displaying an enormous blonde bouffant hairstyle.

JANEANE
Are you sure this is the place?
I don't see anyone else
here yet...

MORSE
Yeah, this is it, for sure. We're
just a little early is all. You
know how it is with those bigshot
types. They never do anything until
they have their power brunches at
Elaine's. Isn't that right, Miss
Parker?

SECRETARY
(with exaggerated Jersey accent)
Yessir. I believe the instructions
faxed over to us said we should go
ahead and start the imprinting
process.

MORSE
Yeah, why not. Go ahead and step into
the cement, Janeane. I'm sure the camera
crew is coming any second now.

JANEANE
(venturing tentatively
onto the concrete)
I don' t know...

She steps into the wet cement and her feet make a soft, squishing noise as they sink downward.

MORSE
Thataway, just stand up real straight,
and make a good, deep print.

JANEANE
(confused, looking around
the area at her feet)
Where are the rest of the footprints?
I don't see anything here...

MORSE
Uh, I think they started a new
section. After Anfernee Hardaway
and Brooke Shields, they ran out
of room.

JANEANE
(testing her foothold)
Hey, wait a minute - I think
I'm getting stuck!
(panicking)
I am stuck! I can't move my feet.

SECRETARY
(cackling evilly)
Yep, that's what'll happen when
ya use that quick dryin' cee-ment!

Morse removes his hat, glasses, moustache and goatee. His secretary follows suit by doffing her wig and sunglasses. Janeane shudders as she recognizes their true identities.

JANEANE
(gasping)
Sergio Calzone! And Ma Parker! What
are you doing here?

CALZONE
(chuckling madly)
He, he, he. I'm sure you never
thought you'd be seeing me again
after that little stunt you pulled
on me at Martha Stewart's estate.
(leaning over to confront
Janeane face to face)
I've got to hand it to you. That
was pretty original: shipping me
airfreight all the way to a remote
spot in the Amazon River basin.

JANEANE
It was also intended to be pretty
permanent. So mind telling me how
you managed to escape?

CALZONE
I was discovered by a tribe of giant
Amazonian women who captured me and
pressed me into service repopulating
their race.

JANEANE
Fulltime stud service? So what are
you so PO'ed about? Isn't that every
man's dream, along with unlimited
beer and cable television?

CALZONE
(incensed)
You didn't see these women! The most
attractive one couldn't hold a candle
to Dennis Rodman!
(closing his eyes and
shuddering momentarily)
And just for the record, Gloria
Steinem was wrong: The smelliest fish
pedal their bicycles the hardest.
Oh, sweet Jesus! I finally got
so desperate I duplicated the
refrigerator scene from "Wet Hot
American Summer" with a rubber
tree, and their witch doctor
declared me possessed by evil
spirits.

JANEANE
So they exiled you?

CALZONE
No, they tried to cure me - by
feeding me to a school of piranha.
Fortunately, I was snatched up
first by an anaconda. To make a
long story short, I wound up shipped to Don Imus's ranch in a pair of
snakeskin boots. From that point,
it was a simple feat to track you
around the country thanks to the
Howard Dean campaign. I even became
a "Deaniac" to infiltrate their ranks.
(gesturing toward Ma)
I met her in New Hampshire outside a
Porta-John after a near-fatal reaction
to the loose meat sandwiches. She
nursed me back to health, and we
decided to work together.
(sneering at Janeane)
And now I finally exact the revenge
I've been dreaming about day and
night since I met you in Mexico.
For ruining my promising career as
a schlocky film producer, this is
your retribution, Janeane Garofalo!

JANEANE
You'll never get away with this --
okay, so I'm running a little short
on ad-libs; I can never think straight
when my shoes get tight. But sooner or
later, someone has to come along
here and see me.

MA PARKER
He, he, not unless'n they kin see
through cee-ment. This here is one
of them new Donald Trump buildin's
that he keeps puttin' up to cut off
ever'one else's view of the river.
You're standin' right on the cornerstone.
Direckly a cee-ment truck should be
comin' along to bury ya alive.

The sound of a backup alarm indicates an approaching vehicle.

CALZONE
(checking his wristwatch)
Right on time.

JANEANE
(to Ma)
I know why he hates me, but what
are you so pissed over? I didn't
even press charges against you.

MA
(angry)
What 'bout my boys? After that sheriff
got done emasculatin' 'em with that
durned Lifetime Cable, they's plumb
ruint! My oldest, Zeke - he's a
dadblamed hairdresser now!

JANEANE
What about the other - Clem?

MA
(with tears rolling down her cheeks)
Even worst. He's datin' Liza Minelli!

JANEANE
(gulping and whistling softly)
Whew, there's no coming back from
that... Still, how did you expect
me to respond after being kidnapped,
tied to a chair and sexually harassed
for an entire winter evening?

MA
That's jest what I mean! You ain't
got not respeck 'tall fer traditional
values!

CALZONE
I can't believe you didn't
figure it out. Who did you think
was behind all of your recent
good luck?
(chuckling)
All of a sudden you've got film
and television roles coming out
of your ears. I knew you'd be so
overwhelmed, eventually you'd get
careless and then you'd be
vulnerable. Hell, I even got Bill
O'Reilly to apologize and renounce
Bush.

JANEANE
How did you do that?

CALZONE
I threatened to book him on that
Dennis Miller show first. Enough
chit-chat. Time to say our final
farewells.

MA
Not so fast, college boy.

Ma reaches over and snatches Janeane's cell phone from her belt.

MA
You don't want to be givin' her no
chance to call for help on her
little tellyphone, now do ya?

CALZONE
(smiling)
Good thinking, Ma.
(blowing kiss to Janeane)
Ciao, baby!

Calzone and Ma Parker turn and walk away. Janeane struggles desperately to free her feet to no avail.

JANEANE
(frantic)
Wait! Come back!
(shouting at retreating figures)
Would it help if I said I was sorry?
(crying)
Damn, you, Morse! I want my ten
percent back!

SCENE IV

INT. A MIDTOWN MANHATTAN BAR - MID-MORNING

Sergio Calzone and Ma Parker are sitting at a table in a downtown bar, celebrating their success entrapping Janeane.

MA
(downing a jigger of liquor)
He, he, didja get a load of them big
brown eyes when she seen who we
really was? That were better than a
greased-pig contest in a muddy
creek bottom.

Calzone sips a larger drink capped by an umbrella.

CALZONE
Yeah, Ma, I couldn't have done it
without you. I've got to hand it to
you. You map out and execute strategy
like a West Point general. Did you
learn that from one of your husbands?

MA
Nah, I learnt that tryin' to collect
child support after they all done left
me. Ya know, they don't jest hand out
them food stamps 'cause yer standin'
there with yer tongue hangin' out.
Ya gotta earn 'em, by lyin' and
schemin' and connivin'. That's
the American way.

CALZONE
Uh, yeah. Right.
(holding up glass)
Well, here's to Little Miss Sunshine,
may she rest in peace - one big,
solid piece.

They both laugh.

CALZONE
(examining glass)
Oh, look, my glass is half-empty
-- and cracked! Ha, ha, ha! Must
be an omen.

MA
Yep, that calls fer another round.
(yelling toward bar)
Hey, barkeep, set us up with another
round of that watered-down sheepdip
yer tryin' to pass off as first-rate
hooch!
(to Calzone)
I swear, they ain't a decent batch
of 'shine or a good bluegrass band to
be had in this whole danged town. No
wonder you city folks go 'round so
down in the mouth.

A gum-chewing, shaggy-haired barmaid shows up eventually with a platter of drinks.

BARMAID
Okay, for the lady, another vodka
screwdriver.
(pushing hair out of her
face and handing Ma her drink)
And for the gentleman, another
Shirley Temple.
(giving Calzone his drink
and collecting empty glasses)
Will there be anything else?

MA
(belting down her drink)
Nope. Jest put it on his tab.

CALZONE
(red-faced)
Uh, actually I'm running a little
short these days.

MA
(wiping her mouth and belching)
That figgers. Story of my life
when it comes to men.
(pointing a tipsy finger
at Calzone)
Ya dipstick, we shoulda rolled
her whilst we had the chance. Seems
like I gotta think of ever'thing!

BARMAID
Rolled who?

Calzone and Ma both get quiet. Ma reaches down the front of her dress and pulls up some money.

MA
(handing money to barmaid)
Nobody, honey. Here's a couple
of bucks. See if'n you can bribe
one of them street punks to give
ya a haircut with his switchblade.

The barmaid leaves.

CALZONE
(whispering as he tastes his drink)
Watch it, Ma. You're gonna give us
away. We gotta keep this quiet for
a week or two until someone starts
to miss her, and then everybody'll
blame it on Bush and his stooges.

MA
(chuckling)
Not that they wouldn't've got
around to it sooner or later
they own selves.
(touching her hair and
preening herself)
Y'know, this here rotgut must
be stronger'n I been givin' it
credit fer, 'cause yer startin'
to look mighty fine to me fer
a city feller...

CALZONE
Wha -- ? Strange, I'm beginning
to feel a similar attraction
toward you...
(snapping his fingers at barmaid)
That's it! Happy Hour is over.
Check, please!

As the barmaid approaches, Ma lunges across the table and embraces Calzone in a headlock and starts kissing him passionately.

CALZONE
Oh my god! What is happening
here?!

The barmaid removes her shaggy wig and reveals herself to the amorous couple.

CALZONE
(astonished, between
smooching noises)
Garofalo! I thought we iced you!

MA
(clawing at Calzone's shirt)
Yeh, how the dickens did you
get out'n that predickyment?

JANEANE
(hands on hips)
It was quite simple, actually.
You forgot to confiscate my Walkman,
so I just popped in an "AC/DC" CD
and cranked up the volume. In nothing
flat, that concrete cracked like
stale Limburger.

CALZONE
(lying down flat on table top
as Ma begins to undress him)
Damn you, what did you do, poison us?

JANEANE
Close. As soon as I got to a phone,
I called Kim Gandy at NOW and got
the contact number for your Amazonian
friends. They were more than happy to
share a little formula with me that
they call "Bwana Knockie-Knockie" --
that's native for "Motion Potion". It's
a blend of indigenous tropical herbs
that create a pheromone irresistible
to the opposite sex. I merely added
it to your drinks.

CALZONE
(gritting his teeth and
pushing against Ma's advances)
I'm strong. I must resist...

JANEANE
Good luck. Now you know what
happened to Ashton Kutcher
and Antonio Banderas.

MA
Quit your jawin' and fetch us
a preacher real quick, 'cause
it's 'bout to happen one way
or t'other!

CALZONE
(breaking free and jumping off table)
Nooooo! I'd rather be dead than wed!

He rushes blindly out of the bar and into the street. The screech of car brakes and a loud thud attest to his fate.

MA
(teary-eyed, pulling a pistol
out of her purse)
Dang, you, you little she-devil,
now you gone and kilt the only
city feller I ever fell in love
with. Prepare to meet your maker!

JANEANE
(bug-eyed)
Uh-oh.

Janeane ducks behind the bar and Ma starts firing randomly, breaking bottles and glasses on the wall behind the bar. Ma rushes the bar and corners Janeane behind the cash register.

Janeane trembles and closes her eyes as Ma sticks the gun in her face and cocks the trigger. There is a single, unmistakable click, but no shot.

MA
(exasperated, still clicking trigger)
Bull chips! I musta lost count of
my rounds.
(tossing gun aside)
Yeah, now I remember. I wasted one
on that pay toilet lock at the
bus station.

Janeane spies a taser gun near the register and grabs it. She holds it point-blank on Ma.

JANEANE
Okay, hold it right there,
Ma. I've got you covered.

Ma looks perplexed for a second and then thumps the counter hard with her fist. The vibration pops the cash register drawer open, which knocks the taser gun out of Janeane's hand. Ma catches it in mid-air.

MA
(cackling as she points taser at Janeane)
Too slow, city girl. Who got who covered?
Don't reckon this doohickey will be
enough to finish ya off, but I'll
think of somethin' after I got ya
knocked out.

Just as Ma pulls the trigger on the taser gun, Moe the chimp appears atop the bar counter with a seltzer bottle. She unleashes a spray that intercepts the electrostatic discharge of the gun and short-circuits it. Ma is engulfed in a sparkling aura of electrical energy, until she drops, twitching and smoking, to the floor.

JANEANE (wiping sweat from her
forehead with a napkin)
Phew, that was a close one. Thanks
a lot, Moe. I owe you bigtime. How
can I ever make it up to you?

The chimp jumps up and down excitedly, pointing to the bar supplies.

JANEANE
(nodding as she starts
to pour liquors)
Okay, you got it. One banana
daiquiri, coming right up.

EPILOGUE

INT. JANEANE'S MANHATTAN APARTMENT - BEDROOM -- THE FOLOWING EVENING

Janeane and Chris Anderson are lying together, with Moe the chimp at the foot of the bed eating Purina Monkey Chow from a bag.

CHRIS
I just got off the phone with the
hospital. Would you believe that Ma
Parker and Calzone are both going
to pull through? Seems he cut himself
so many times as a klutzy pizza slicer,
his body has developed extraordinary
clotting properties, and Ma Parker had
so much lard in her system, it acted
as an electrical insulator. Still,
they should both be out of circulation
for a long time to come.
(studying Janeane)
What's wrong?

JANEANE
Well, I'm kind of torn. I have
to admit they were the best agents
I ever had. Wonder if they'll get
out on work-release?

Chris frowns.

JANEANE
Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I'm
glad it's finally all over. Hopefully
now I'll be able to get a good night's
rest without anymore nightmares.

CHRIS
(kissing Janeane goodnight)
I know you can. Just close your
eyes and think pleasant thoughts.

They no sooner settle into bed than the answering machine lights up on the nightstand, and a voice comes through the speaker.

VOICE
Hello? Janeane? This is your agency
calling to remind you that you've got
a 5:30 studio call in LA tomorrow
morning for another guest shot on
"King of Queens". Hello, Janeane,
are you there?

Chris starts to rise, but Janeane puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

JANEANE
I'll take care of it.
(snapping her fingers)
Moe!

The chimpanzee drops the food bag and reaches under the blankets, producing Ma Parker's pistol. Moe fires three shots in succession at the answering machine, finally obliterating it. Then she chatters, dances and turns somersaults on the bed.

CHRIS
You know, we really have enough animals
in this apartment. I hope you're not
planning on keeping this chimp...

JANEANE
Of course not.
(fluffing her pillow
and snuggling into bed)
Only until her marksmanship improves,
and then I'll send her back to Dennis
Miller.

END PART 10: THE END ... ALMOST

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Fan Fiction

Janeane Garofalo drawing by Amy

In this series of adventures, Janeane Garofalo plays the part of Janeane as she searches for a persona to finally call home. To read a brief biography, go to Janeane Garofalo >>.


This episodic comedy, written in the general format of a film script, follows the harrowing adventures of a modern-day Janeane Garofalo as she finds herself pitched by the winds of fate from one wild adventure to another. One moment she is burning down the home of Martha Stewart after a failed attempt to fill the apron of the homemaking diva who is preparing for a sojourn "up the river." The next she finds herself transformed into an Elizabethan era Alice pursued by Wonderland characters with incredible resemblances to members of the George W. Bush administration. Never fear, fans of Janeane. While the little Jersey gal walks through the world leaving chaos and destruction in her wake, she always comes out on top, though not completely unscathed at all times.

Select any one of the links below to go to another part of
Perils >> 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11


Little is known of George "Rusty" Datt. Some rumors place him at the scene of all historical events, important or otherwise, for the past two years. Other rumors say longer.
To learn what little we know, go to George "Rusty" Datt >>

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