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 !  The Perils of Janeane, part 5

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




Janeane, wearing a dark sweat suit, fanny pack and platform sneakers, is being dragged roughly on her stomach through Central Park while attempting to hold onto three rampaging animals on leashes -- her two dogs and the pony she has brought home from Mexico.

Walkies, walkies! Ah nuts, that
must only work on British dogs!

The animals gallop hell-bent toward an area occupied by food vendors, and Janeane loses her hold. The dogs proceed to knock over a hot dog cart, while the pony thrusts his nose into a popcorn machine and begins to munch greedily. The vendors yell and swat at the animals to no avail, while Janeane lies dazed and winded against the trunk of a large maple tree, as her cell phone bleeps.


A voice is heard coming from the phone.

Hello, Janeane Garofalo? This is
Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton.

(sitting up alertly)
Hillary? I mean, Senator Clinton.
Is that you? This is a real honor.

Likewise I'm sure. I got this
number from your agency. Janeane, I was wondering how your schedule
looks in the near future.

While Janeane is on the phone, the vendors continue to wage battle with the runaway animals. A Middle-Eastern man has mounted the pony and is trying to pry his head out of the popcorn, while an angry Asian fellow is wrestling on the ground with the dogs -- and losing -- while they gobble up his remaining inventory.

(calling out to vendors)
No, don't hurt them! I'll pay
for damages...

The larger dog has overpowered the poor wiener vendor and has begun humping him from behind.

...and emotional suffering!
(to Hillary)
I'm sorry. I'm in kind of a
situation here. My pets seem to
have responded to obedience
training about as well as Bill.

Believe me, I can sympathize. Look
at the bright side, it'll sweeten
your future book deals. I'll get
right to the point: As you well know,
my good friend and loyal supporter
Martha Smith has been having some
legal and personal difficulties

So I've heard. How does that
concern me?

She's afraid she may not be able
to keep all of her commitments, at
least in the near future, so she's
looking to train someone to take
over her daily television show
on an interim basis.

A policeman on horseback has arrived. He dismounts and attempts to control the situation.

Oh, I don't know. That doesn't
sound like my kind of gig. The
last time I tried to make S'mores,
the EPA Superfund had to clean up
my kitchen. I had to call the TV
repairman before I figured out why
I wasn't getting good cable reception
on my microwave. My idea of interior
decorating is a tongue tattoo.

Tell me about it. Do you think Bill
would be pigging out on all of that
junk food if I knew Betty Crocker from
Betty Ford? We're modern career women,
Janeane. We're not supposed to know
anything about housework. That's why we
need to live vicariously through the kind
of anal-retentive, artsy-craftsy,
perfectionist, homebody role models that shows like Martha Stewart Home Living
provide for us. It's more about image
than substance. You have that image,
Janeane. Young women identify with you
and your counterculture, anti-lookism
opinions. That's why Martha and I have
talked this over, and we feel that you are
the ideal candidate for the position.

The animals have been subdued. The policeman now approaches Janeane with ticket pad in hand.

(to Janeane)
Lady, listen, I'm going to have to cite
you. You are in violation of New York
City ordinances requiring you to
keep your animals under control at all
times. Also, I don't believe it's legal
to own a pony as a house pet anywhere
within city limits - and it sure ain't

(defiant and strident)
That's bogus! Those vendors constitute
legal entrapment and contributory
negligence. I had my animals out for
their normal exercise, and they were
perfectly under control until they
smelled that food cooking. Secondly, my
personal life choices are defended
under the Constitution; and furthermore,
I have legal registration and tags for
the pony. They're attached to the
collar around his neck.

That's another thing. Where the hell
did you find a collar that large?

The Roseanne Barr Nice'N Nasty leather
collection. Camryn Manheim clued me in.

Uh, yeah. Still, you're going to have
to discuss some of these issues with
a judge. I'm just doing my job.

(listening over phone)
Janeane? Are you there? Let me talk
to the officer.

I just happen to have Senator Hillary
Rodham Clinton on the phone here, and
she would like to speak with you,

She smiles hopefully at the policeman and hands him the phone. He walks out of listening range.

Uh huh. Yeah. I see. Very, well,

The policeman walks back and returns the phone to Janeane.

(walking away)
I want those animals out of this
park within the next fifteen minutes,
or I'm gonna come down on you like
Rudolph Giuliani on a bad comb-over

(calling after policeman)
Yes sir. I'll do that.
(to Hillary)
Wow, how did you do that? You must
have really pulled rank.

No, I just threatened to release
those videotapes of Janet Reno
popping out of the cake at the
'93 FOP convention.

(dusting herself off)
Thanks for the mental image. I
sure won't be going off my diet

At any rate, you owe me a favor
now. Show up at Martha's Turkey Hill
estate this afternoon, and she'll
fill you in on the rest.

Janeane removes her checkbook from her fanny pack and walks toward the vendor area.

Okay, I'll give it a try. Just one
more thing I'm curious about while
I've got you on the line. What are
these rumors I've been hearing about
you and that space alien P'lod?

I'm so tired of hearing about that.
That was just a case of two ships
passing in the night.

So you're saying it was a
one-night stand?

No, I'm saying he sideswiped Warren
Buffet's yacht with his UFO during
the New Year's Eve party. Next thing
I knew, we were doing the nasty in
a lifeboat with Barry Manilow rowing.
Then of course, Bill heard the
moaning and caught us.

Moaning? You mean P'lod was that

No, Manilow got his nose caught in
an oarlock and gave us away. Then
came the big fight. I have to give
Bill credit, though. He proved to
the whole world why he became a
conscientious objector.

Yeah, just one more thing that
keeps bothering me: I worked with P'lod
in Mexico, and he, uh, didn't spend
much time in wardrobe. Still, I
couldn't detect any -- um -- equipment,
if you know what I mean. How does
he . . . you know, do it?

Let me put it this way. If he
ever asks you to pull his finger,
you better be on the pill first.
Talk to you later. I'm late for a
prayer breakfast with the Catholic
Women's League. They're protesting
the recall election in California.
The theme is "Popers against Gropers."

Hillary hangs up.

As Janeane reaches the animals, they all become excited as they recognize her. The dogs bark and the pony whinnies. The dogs jump up and lick her face. The pony decides to follow suit and crushes them all beneath the weight of its body. Only Janeane's arm holding the checkbook is visible outside of the pile.

The vendors wander over and begin scribbling on checks and tearing them off. Janeane's voice is heard from within the pile.

That's it. I'm not reading you
guys any more Marmaduke



Martha Stewart, sporting a chic beige pantsuit in the office of her exquisitely renovated Turkey Hill farmhouse, greets Janeane who is wearing her customary sweater, slacks and platform sneakers.

(smiling artificially and
wearing gardening gloves
as she shakes hands)
Good afternoon, Janeane. I'm glad
you could make it.

(staring at gloves)
Good afternoon. Uh, been working a
little in the yard?

No, just a precaution. New
York City is such a filthy town,
nothing personal. All of those
"third-world germs," if you know
what I mean.

(starting to sit in a chair)
I got the idea when your Aryan
butler sprayed me with Lysol.

(grabbing Janeane by elbow)
No, not there, please. That's an
antique Victorian armchair. We just
hand-reupholstered it with gold inlaid
needlework, stripped it down, and
revarnished it with a hundred coats
of hand rubbed polyurethane. Didn't
you see the "Twenty-Minute Projects"
segment on the show last week?

Sorry, I must have blinked and
missed that.

Janeane moves toward another chair, but Martha stops her again.

No, not there, either. That's a
Louis XIV, one of his most powerful

Hey, that's okay, I'm used to all
kinds of stains on those taxicab
and subway seats ...

No, I mean that's another rare

Okay, tell you what, why don't I
just stand until my knees buckle?
Geeze, if I had known it would be
like this, I would have covered
myself in bubble wrap.

No, that doesn't work, either --
except for birth control. I tried
it on my ex-husband. I'm sorry. I
guess I'm just a little on edge
because of all these problems
I've been having.

I was discussing that with Hillary
Clinton when she called me and said
you might need me to help out for
a while.

(walking behind desk)
Yes, it's been sheer hell. I guess
you know what it's like when you
finally get to the top and everyone
wants to knock you off the hill.
(looking at Janeane and
doing a double take)
What am I saying? Of course you
don't. Sorry.

Janeane fumes silently, but accepts the invitation to sit in an overstuffed armchair that Martha gestures to.

Anyway, I'm afraid the trial alone
is going to take up too much of my
time. Once it gets underway, I'll need
someone to fill in for me here on the
show, and Hillary thought you had the
ideal qualifications.

That was the part I didn't quite
understand. I'm really not -- what do
you call it -- very domestic.

Martha puts her glasses back on and studies some paperwork on her desk.

I know that. But you do have a lot of
film experience, correct? What are you
currently working on?

Nothing. I just wrapped a picture
with the famous Spaghetti Western
director Sergio Calzone.

(looking up from her papers)
Oh, that must have been exciting;
but do you have any experience
overseeing and administrating an
entire production?

Hmph! Do I ever. Just ask anybody.
(leaning back in chair
and lighting cigarette)
Take this last director for instance.
He called himself Sergio Calzone, but
as soon as I saw him, I knew he was
just some nerd who used to work in a
pizza parlor back home in Jersey. So
it's not like I'm gonna take a lot of
grief from this loser, right?

Martha tries to talk, but Janeane cuts her off.

Yeah, so right off the bat I gave
him the word: no horseback riding.
Do you have any idea what that does
to an equine's spinal chord? I told
him, I'm like this with PETA.
(holding up her thumb
and forefinger pinched
So, if he doesn't want any trouble,
he better start taking care of
of the animals properly. Just the
basic stuff, you know: ten minute
breaks every two hours, half-hour
lunch, a bag and a half extra feed
for overtime, and a paid holiday
on Secretariat's birthday.

I see, but actually we have a very
good labor relations attorney
here . . .

Janeane leans forward and blows smoke in Martha's face. She is oblivious.

Oh, that's not even the half of it.
Then Calzone was really adamant about
filming this gory, gratuitously violent
battle scene between white people and
Native Americans, but after I arranged
a little powwow with the ACLU --
-- well,it wasn't long before he came
to his senses and was ready to smoke
the old peace pipe. So as a substitute,
it was my idea to emulate that big
showdown scene in "The Good, the Bad,
and the Ugly", you know, where they
all face off for fifteen minutes while
the music builds to crescendo, only
instead of a gunfight, all of the
protagonists break into a competition
of interpretative dancing.
(winking at Martha)
Yeah, if that doesn't get nominated for
an Oscar, you just might as well assume
the whole freakin' selection committee
is rigged.

Martha coughs from the smoke around her face and hands Janeane a monogrammed ashtray.

This Mr. Calzone must have found you
pretty intimidating.

Janeane shrugs and snuffs out her cigarette.

I never even saw him again, after
I made him install the Jacuzzi and
latte machine in my dressing trailer.
Not that I was asking for any
extraordinary consideration, mind you,
but those are union rules, if you
study the fine print and all of the
applicable legal precedents. Of course, I had a helluva time getting Melissa
Gilbert to uncross her legs, but I've
come across a few old pictures of her
and Michael Landon out behind the barn,
if you know what I mean.

Martha lays down her reading glasses and nods knowingly.

That's all I need to hear. I'm
absolutely convinced that you are the
ideal substitute host for my show.

Really? Wow, that's a relief. I
don't always do well in these interview
situations. Sometime I even get the idea
that I don't make a positive impression.
So was it my experience that made the

(smiling wryly)
Let's just say that after my WASPish,
tight-assed, Middle American audience
gets to know you, I'm certain they'll
be ecstatic to welcome me back again,
no matter how long I may be up the
(rising from the desk)
So I'll see you tomorrow morning at
the studio, ten o'clock sharp, and
I'll show you the ropes.

Janeane gets up and starts to leave, then stops and turns back momentarily.

So you and Hillary are really
good friends?

More than friends. With her political
ability and my financial backing, we
hope to inaugurate the first female
president at some point in the very
near future.

Cool. Well, when that happens, do
you think you could reserve a spot
for me in the Cabinet?

Absolutely, my dear.

Martha waits until Janeane is out of earshot and then finishes the thought.

...Bound, gagged and with a
double padlock on the door.



Janeane and Martha are preparing to film another episode of "Martha Stewart Living."

Martha is talking on a cell phone to her attorney.

No, how many times do I have to
tell you? No deals! They've got squat.
And tell Bacanovic to keep his mouth
shut, unless he wants to receive a
real special Christmas fruitcake this
year. Okay, talk to you later.

(sipping a cup of
gourmet coffee)
Ms. Stewart, since this seems to be
an opportune time for obsequious
flattery, I just wanted to say how
really impressed I am with the
strength and composure you've retained
throughout these difficult times.

Way to lay it on, kid. You should
be a cinch at decoupage. Oh, what
the hell, call me Martha. It'll
make everyone think we actually
like each other. You see, that's
the secret, Janeane. You have to
be able to rise above those slings
and arrows of outrageous fortune
and keep your eye on the prize.

She takes a thin, straw doll off of the windowsill and begins to flail it mercilessly with a meat cleaver.

That damned Jane Clayson! Here's a
real sound byte for you, girlfriend.
(whacks doll on the head and yells at it)
Yeah, at least I've still got a show,
bimbo! You're gonna end up back in Salt
Lake City fighting ten other skags for
stud time with some old liver-spotted Mormon.

Martha glances over at Janeane who is staring at her wide-eyed.

Sorry, just had to vent a little.
Okay, let's get started.

Martha discards the doll and meat cleaver and confers with the sound and lighting technicians by cell phone. Then, she reaches into a closet and produces two large, frilly aprons. She fastens one to herself and the other around Janeane. Janeane's apron nearly conceals her entire body.

I feel like a walking doily. Don't
let anybody drop a coaster on me.

Aren't these lovely? They're made
entirely from origami.

(licking apron)
Seems like a waste of good pasta ...

No, origami. The Oriental art of
paper folding. We're doing a segment
about it on the show today with a
Japanese expert.

(wiping her mouth)
Yeah, I knew that.

Never mind. Just follow my lead.
You know about your camera lights.
Your marks are on the floor. Let's
just go ahead and tape our first
(raising a finger
to the crew)
Okay, Liqueur Spice Crepe segment,
take one. Lights, camera, action!

Martha's theme music plays in the background. The cameras roll and Martha dons her trademark plastic smile as she addresses the viewers.

Hi, I'm Martha Stewart, and my
guest co-hostess is comedienne and
political activist Janeane Garofalo.
Today on the show we will be making
Chef Francois Peureux's fabulous
Liqueur Spice Crepes, a treat your
entire family will enjoy throughout
the holiday season.

Martha turns to acknowledge a small, chubby man in chef's attire approaching from stage right.

Chef Peureux, I know these crepes
are one of your specialties at the
Waldorf-Astoria. I'm told that
many famous people have flocked to
the hotel just to sample this
treat, even Elvis Presley, right?

Non, monsieur Elvis like ze
peanut butter and banana soufflé.
Mademoiselle Lisa Marie, when
she married to Michael Jackson, she
like ze crepes. Actually, she tell
me he order zem for her as ze gift.
She say he give her ze crepes.

She's not the only one.

Martha scowls at Janeane while she arranges ingredients on table.

Did Michael like the crepes?

Non, he like ze garcons.

Chef Peureux whisks flour, sugar and salt into a large bowl.

Okay, we start with ze flour, sugar
and salt. Now we need someone to
beat ze eggs.

(pointing to carton
of eggs on table)
Janeane, could you help us with that?

Janeane hesitates momentarily, then grabs a rolling pin off the table and smashes it down repeatedly onto the egg carton until the contents squirt Chef Peureux in the eyes.

Sacre bleu! Les oeufs sont d
ans mes oeils!

Martha hands him a towel and he wipes his eyes.

(to Janeane)
That's not how you beat eggs!
Good lord, child, didn't your
mother ever show you what to
do with a rolling pin?

Janeane looks at the rolling pin and reflects for a moment. Then she takes it and clubs Martha on the side of her head who collapses beneath the table.

Horrified by her own action, Janeane drops the rolling pin and appears to be on the verge of tears.

I'm so sorry...

Ooooh ... That's how your
mother used a rolling pin?

Well, kind of. Only you're supposed
to be staggering in the back door
late at night with amaretto on
your breath...

Martha rubs her head and nods as she slowly rises from the floor.

Yeah, with my old man it was
always Scotch whiskey on Saturday
night. Sorry, my fault. I should
have phrased that better.

Martha staggers to her feet and braces herself on the side of the table.

(still woozy)
Now, as you can see, these are
the special spices and liqueurs
that really give this recipe
its unique flavor.

Martha uncaps one of the liqueur bottles and takes a good, hard belt from it. Janeane reaches for another bottle, but Martha smacks her on the hand.

No. No liqueur for you, barfly.
(laughing politely)
As we all know, Ms. Garofalo is a
recovering alcoholic. I just want
to say how courageous I think you
are for publicly disclosing that
situation, Janeane. I know we're
all going to be keeping you in
our thoughts and prayers.

(smiling through clenched teeth)
Thank you so much, Martha. You
have no idea what that means
to me.
(under her breath)

But since we seem to have had an
unfortunate accident with one of
our primary ingredients.
(eyeing Janeane accusingly)
let's just jump ahead and take
a look at these yummy crepes after
they're through baking. If you
will, Chef.

Chef Peureux walks over to the oven and opens the door. With an oven mitt over his hand, he removes a freshly baked tray - of ladies' underwear.

Mon Dieu! What ze hell -- ?

(reaching for undergarments)
Oh, thank you.
(sniffing a pair of panties)
Mmm. That smells great.

You put your clothes in the oven?

Oh, is that what it is? I thought
it was one of those laundry drying
thingies. Oh well, I'm tired of buying
new underwear all of the time. I
thought I'd give recycling a try.

(laughs unconvincingly)
Ha, ha, isn't she just hilarious?
Okay, that's our little joke
for the day. Now let's remove the
real crepes from the oven.

Martha walks over to the oven and removes a second tray of freshly baked crepes and sets it down on the counter. She passes out samples to Janeane and Chef Peureux and takes one herself.

(nodding to the chef
as she tastes crepe)
Mmmm, that's heavenly. Just the
perfect blend of sweet and spicy.
Wouldn't you agree, Janeane?

(chewing and nodding)
Umm-hmm. Almost as good as cold

(still chewing)
So where did you wash your underwear?

(pointing to counter)
Right in that big bowl where he
mixed all of the stuff up.

(wide-eyed, spitting out
a mouthful of crepe)

Martha gags and coughs for a few seconds and glares angrily at Janeane.

All right. Well, let's not be
greedy. We should share our treats
with our special little guest.

On cue, a dazzling little girl trots onstage. Her hair is arranged in perfect ringlets and she is wearing an especially frilly white party dress. She turns and models her outfit for the camera.

This is Amber Johnson, our special
guest this morning. She is wearing
a dress completely constructed as an
origami project, as we will
demonstrate in the next segment
of our show.

Martha bends over and offers the little girl a crepe on a plate.

Here you go, dear.

(in mechanical,
monotone voice)
Thank you, Mrs. Stewart.

The little girl bites into the crepe unenthusiastically.

So how do you like your crepe?

It is very yummy. I am going to
have to give my mommy this recipe.

(beaming and patting
girl on the head)
You do that, child. Isn't she

Amber retreats offstage compliantly. As she leaves, she passes a crumpled wad of paper to Janeane on the sly. Janeane turns away from Martha, unfolds the paper and reads it.

"Help me! Please! She is holding
my brother in a cage until she gets
him fattened up for the oven!"

Janeane looks up from the paper and stares horrified at Martha. When Martha stares back, she quickly stuffs the paper into her mouth and swallows it.

(shaking hands with the chef)
All right, Chef Peureux. We
certainly enjoyed having you here
today. That recipe will be available
on our Martha Stewart Living website.
In just a minute, origami projects
with Kato Kamikaze.

The theme music fades to commercial break. The chef exits. Crew members begin to break down the kitchen set and transform it into a crafts workshop.

Martha takes an ice bag out of the refrigerator and walks over to the coffee table and pours herself a cup. Then she pours the rest of the liqueur bottles into the cup. She sits down and sips her coffee while holding the ice against her sore head. Janeane approaches her.

Uh, that little girl didn't seem
too -- happy.

Neither was I over that little
underwear stunt -- not to mention
the rolling pin.

Sorry, but I told you I wasn't
Suzy Homemaker. I'm more like Floozy
Homewrecker. It goes back to when I
was trying to work day jobs right
out of college. I learned I just
can't take simple instructions.
Still, I'm not sure that little
girl was all right ...

Ah, kids, they're all the same.
Give 'em a comic book and a tube
of glue to sniff, and they're
satisfied until they either go off
to college or get a job dancing
around a pole for dollar bills.
Trust me, I'm a mother myself.

Ain't that the truth.

What? Do me a favor and get me
a second ice bag.

It hurts that bad?

No, that menopause is acting up again.
Damned hot flashes. Geeze, seems like
just yesterday I had men looking up my mini-skirt. Now I've got everyone
sticking their heads up my ass!



The grate on top of the storm drain vibrates harshly several times and finally pops open. A wild-eyed, muck-covered figure head-butts its way out of the sewer. Wearing nothing but a straitjacket, the figure wiggles and grunts as it struggles its way out of the catch basin and onto its feet.

He-e-e-re's Johnny!
(laughing insanely)
That evil, whacked out broad doesn't
know what she's in for now!



Martha is ready to resume the second portion of her program. She stands in the middle of her transformed craft workshop with Janeane on one side and a middle-aged Japanese-American woman on the other side.

Welcome back. For our next segment,
we are going to attempt some origami
craftwork. With us today, we have
origami expert and National Folding
Champion of 2002, Kato Kamikaze.
Good morning, Kato.

The Japanese-American lady, wearing a purple floral kimono and black, tightly wrapped hair, bows for the camera in mock Japanese courtesy.

Good morning, Martha-san.

(reading from teleprompter)
Origami has its origin in two
Japanese words: oru, meaning to fold
and kami, meaning paper, although
many believe it may have actually
started two thousand years ago in
China. Today it is generally defined
as a form of visual or sculptural
representation that is denoted
primarily by the folding of the
medium involved, usually paper.
(to Ms. Kamikaze)
Kato, I understand you are going
to show us today how to do some wet
folding. This is a relatively new
technique, correct?

That is correct. Also, many years
ago, Akira Yoshizawa, at ninety-one
years of age, developed a standard of
notation so that anyone could do
origami without assistance of a
teacher; therefore, he is called
the father of modern origami.

Wow, the Tony Randall of paper
folding. I'll bet the first thing he
folded was a Depends for himself.

Martha gives Janeane the evil eye. Mrs. Kamikaze moves over to the craft table stocked with paper, pans of water and coating brushes.

(holding up a
sheet of paper)
This is washi, Japanese handmade paper.
It is stacked in piles called shito.
We will be using a technique known as
backcoating, where we apply water to
one side of the paper so that we can
fold it more easily. On this instruction
(holding up printed paper)
we have our simplified folding notations
for a particular project.

All right.
(smiling vapidly)
Sounds simple enough. Let's
get started.

Mrs. Kamikaze and Martha each select a piece of paper from the pile, brush it lightly on one side with water from the pan, and begin to fold according to the instructions. Kamikaze proceeds at breakneck pace, Martha a bit slower but still quite deftly.

Janeane studies them momentarily and tries to copy their actions. She fumbles clumsily, working at a desperate, feverish pace with eyes wide and mouth agape. Soon she is splashing water everywhere and grabbing frantically for additional sheets of paper, as fragments of wet washi adhere to her face, clothing and arms.

(pointing finger at Janeane)
You need to get washi. You should
get washi from your shito.

(wrinkling her brow)
I beg your pardon. My personal
hygiene is no concern of yours.

Kamikaze finishes the project first, with Martha soon to follow. They both hold up identical copies of the project for the camera to pan.

It's a giraffe! Oh, how precious.
(fingering details
of the project)
Look at the long neck and the
stubby little body.

You did a really nice job, Martha.
Janeane, how are you making out?

Janeane is plastered with wet pieces of paper, including a full piece attached to her forehead. Sheepishly she holds up her finished origami project to reveal something that strikingly resembles a phallic symbol complete with testicles.

(shocked and confused)
That's a giraffe?

No, actually, I believe that is
what we Japanese traditionally refer
to as the "Night Dragon." Sadly,
he is no longer seen.

Because he's one of those mythical
characters that has been extinct for centuries?

No, just since my honeymoon.

She snatches the paper sculpture from Janeane.

I will take this home and finish
it properly.

Oh, you mean you're going to add
some paint and decoration.

No, just batteries.

Martha winces and leers at Janeane.

(to Janeane)
Aren't you familiar with the Kawasaki
theorem stating that angles surrounding
a single vertex in a flat origami
crease pattern will always sum to
a total of 180 degrees? What kind of
math were you using?

Uh, no, actually I was using that,
um, Farrakhan math, where you always
round everything to the nearest million.
You know, like the IRS uses when they
audit you.

Martha looks like she's about to explode for an instant, but then regains her composure. She ushers Janeane to the outer edge of the camera shot.

All right, that was fun. Perhaps you
could give Kato and myself a little
extra room while we tackle our next
origami project.

Oh, can't I help?

No. You stay right here.
(smiling innocently
into camera)
For our next origami project, we're
going to finish outfitting this
beautiful Victorian dollhouse,
constructed entirely from folded

Kamikaze places a platter holding a large, elaborate paper dollhouse onto the center of the worktable.

Oh, this is exquisite! Just look at
all of this detail, right down to
the interior furnishings. Today we
will be folding fruit for the bowl
on the kitchen table and clothing
for the upstairs bedroom closets,

Janeane, bored stiff, sits at the edge of the worktable with her head cradled in one hand. Eventually she grabs a towel and wipes herself off, then removes her apron and flings it onto the table.

Looking back, she notices the kitchen supplies from the earlier segment just behind her on a counter. She turns around and inspects the spices, uncapping and sniffing each one. She makes an approving face.

(giggling like a
school girl)
Oh, look, I just crafted a little
bug-light bulb to go right above
the front porch swing.

Janeane shakes her head in disgust. She reaches over for a piece of the origami paper and tears off a long, thin strand. She sprinkles the spices over the paper liberally, then rolls it up into a makeshift joint, sealing the ends with her tongue. She pulls a lighter out of her pocket and ignites her creation. She puffs deeply, relaxing back in the chair with a look of pure ecstasy on her face.

Janeane, could you pass me
another sheet of washi --
(sniffing curiously)
what is that odor? Smells like
that segment where we redecorated
Willie Nelson's bus...

Janeane comes back to her senses. She quickly snuffs out the joint and tosses it aside. She fails to notice it landing onto her discarded paper apron.

Something like this dollhouse makes
a wonderful birthday present, but
when dealing with children who are
always drinking Kool-Aid or something
else they shouldn't be, it's always
wise to waterproof your finished

Martha shakes a spray can of Scotchguard and smiles knowingly.

It's better to err on the side of

Martha triggers the spray can just as Janeane's discarded joint ignites the origami apron on the table. The fumes from the spray can backfeed the fire, and almost instantly the dollhouse and Martha are immersed in flames.

She shrieks in terror as her apron blazes.

Aaaah! Oh my god! Help!

Mrs. Kamikaze grabs the pan of water from the table, but Martha collides with her before she can douse the flame. Even worse, Kamikaze's apron ignites, and she screams in unison with Martha.

Kamikaze lets out a kung fu yell and does a double somersault, shattering a nearby bay window and landing outside in Martha's tropical fish pond. After a moment she bobs to the surface, steaming and holding a large orange coy fish in her mouth.

The entire room is now engulfed in smoke and flame. Janeane rushes over to Martha and pushes her to the floor.

Duck, cover and roll, just like
a Great White concert!

She rolls up Martha in a throw rug and pounds on her
with her fists until the flames are out.

Smoke rolls up from her singed hair.

No, no, you idiot! That's an antique
Persian rug! It's worth more than the
organs I'm going to rip out of your
body just as soon as my girdle stops

As Martha speaks, a rear door bursts open. The mysterious, mud-covered figure from the storm drain comes hopping into the room still clad only in a straitjacket, with a monogrammed Martha Stewart Super Salad Shooter held between his legs. Janeane recognizes him as none other than Sergio Calzone, her former director.

(cackling insanely;
frothing at the mouth)
He, he, ho! Finally we meet again,
my little pretty, and this time
the score gets settled in my favor.

What's this about? That game of
bocce ball I promised you? No
thanks, I'm a little busy
right now.
(touching her hair)
Oh, but thanks for calling me pretty.

You ditz, I've just escaped from
that looney-bin you drove me into
and hiked a hundred miles in my bare
feet wearing nothing but a
straitjacket. I'm here to get even
with you for driving me insane and
ruining my film with all of your
unreasonable requests and demands.
I was an up and coming schlocky
film producer until you showed up,
you and your relentless, insipid
political correctness.

Geeze, just like a guy. Hey, if
you had a problem, you should have
said so. You know I'm always receptive
to opposing points of view, as long
as I agree with them.

You -- As long as -- Oh, you make
me so darned angry!
(stomping his feet)
That's it. Prepare to meet your
fate, devil woman.

He wiggles the salad shooter between his knees.

I took the liberty of preloading this
baby with Limburger and horseradish.
(burping foully)
Needless to say I won't be enjoying
my conjugal visits any time soon;
but then, the Democrats will be back
in control of Congress before you get
the stink out of your pores!

Calzone squeezes the salad shooter trigger with his knees. Janeane ducks a torrent of noxious projectiles as she flits around the smoke-filled room. She tries shielding herself with articles of furniture, but Calzone keeps shooting them out of her hands.

Finally she trips and gets cornered in an alcove beneath some shelves. Calzone closes in for the kill.

He, he, he. Now I've finally got
you, Ms. "Oh, I don't think we need
to do another take." Rest assured,
this will be your very last take.

Janeane spies some homemade crockery on the shelf above her resting on some hand-stitched doilies. At the very last second, she reaches up and jerks at a protruding edge of doily, sending a piggy cookie jar crashing down onto Calzone's head and knocking him unconscious.

Janeane leaps to her feet and exults over Calzone's prone body with her hands on her hips.

Ha, if you have to shoot, shoot,
don't talk!

She notices some papers lying amongst the remains of the broken shards of cookie jar. She fishes them out and examines them through the smoke.

A phony passport? And a one-way
ticket to Brazil? A receipt for a
large cargo trunk.
(looking at Martha suspiciously)
What? Probably filled with cash
or maybe some bearer bonds?

(Still writhing on
floor in carpet roll)
Give those back! They're mine!

You old hag! You were planning
to take a powder and leave me here
to serve out a life sentence in Happy
Homemaker Hell.

Yes, yes, I admit it! I'm so sick
of this whole Martha Stewart persona.
I haven't been able to buy off the rack
or pass gas in public for twenty years!
I've actually had to visit K-Marts and
shake hands with people who could
have been extras in a Mad Max movie.
Please, whatever you do, don't lose
those papers.

(nodding thoughtfully)
Don't worry, I know just what to
do with this stuff...



Dan Rather sits at his anchorman desk as the opening theme music and credits fade.

Good evening. Our top news story
revolves around additional troubles
for already embattled domestic diva
Martha Stewart. During taping of her
syndicated Martha Stewart Living show
today at her Turkey Hill estate in
Westport, Connecticut, a devastating
fire erupted which left both Ms.
Stewart and her 200 million dollar
empire in serious jeopardy.
Sharyl Atkisson reports.

Cut to aerial footage of Martha Stewart's Turkey Hill estate ablaze while Sharyl Atkisson narrates in background.

During a routine video taping of
a craft segment on Martha Stewart's
popular Martha Stewart Living show,
a mysterious fire broke out, injuring
Stewart and guest artist Kato Kamikaze.
Five local fire departments were called
in, but were unable to save the main
structure of the Turkey Hill compound,
an exquisitely restored colonial
farmhouse. Stewart herself was
treated for burns and smoke inhalation
and was showing visible chinks in her
implacable armor, as she was removed
from the scene by paramedics.

Cut to footage of Martha Stewart being transported on a stretcher, her face sooty and hair singed. When she coughs, black smoke comes out of her mouth. An unidentified reporter thrusts a microphone into her face.

Ms. Stewart, do you know what happened?

(coughing and crying)
It was that little brown-eyed jinx!
I tell you, she's demon possessed.
I can't take it anymore. I confess
to everything: I did the Imclone
deal, I snatched the Lindbergh baby,
I was on the grassy knoll in '63,
for god's sake I was Deep Throat in
Watergate; whatever it takes, just
get me away from her!

An oxygen mask is placed over Martha's face, and she is wheeled into the back of an ambulance, still sobbing.

Cut back to footage of investigators rooting through the rubble of the fire. Atkisson resumes her narrative.

Martha Stewart's troubles seemed
to be compounding amid reports of
state and federal investigators
uncovering some troubling evidence
at the accident site, including stolen
art objects -- some missing since
the Nazi pilferage of Europe's
largest museums in World War II --
and the possibility of a child
labor ring operating from
outbuildings on the compound.
Actress and political activist
Janeane Garofalo, who was also
present at the time of the incident,
escaped serious injury and spoke
with us about her impassioned plans
to shore up her friend and mentor's
crumbling empire.

Cut to close-up interview between Atkisson and Janeane with Martha's farmhouse smoldering in the background. Janeane is wearing jeans, denim jacket with large peace symbol, rose-colored wire frame spectacles and paisley sweatband above her forehead.

So you and Martha Stewart are
actually close friends?

That's right, Sharyl. I can
honestly say Martha taught me
everything I know about domestic

So this must be especially hard
for you to accept?

Yes, but like Martha always says,
when life deals you a lemon, turn
it into a lemon meringue pie;
therefore, I have decided to carry
on here at Turkey Hill in Martha's
absence with the kind of work that
I know she'd be proud of. We're going
to be having a lot of rock concerts
right here on the grounds -- you
know, Woodstock-type stuff with
alternative bands and communal-style
living, starting with a Howard Dean
fundraiser this weekend. I also plan
to operate an animal shelter, a
low-income daycare center for
underprivileged inner city standup
comics, a safe house and low-
carbohydrate buffet for abused women
suffering from eating disorders,
and a retirement hospice for aging rock
stars with substance abuse problems.

As they talk, Janeane's dogs and pony cross in the background, growling and fighting each other for articles of Martha's personally monogrammed lingerie.

My, that is a really ambitious agenda.
Do you still believe in Martha
Stewart's innocence, and will you
be supporting her during the trial?
What do you know about these rumors
of her making a stag film with
ex-Argentine dictator Juan Peron?

Uh, Sharyl, it would probably be
inappropriate for me to discuss
any of that at this time, but
suffice it to say that my personal
opinion of Martha has never wavered.

A bunch of college students are lugging electronic sound equipment and a large beer keg in the background. One of them calls out to Janeane.

Hey, Janeane, the party's starting!
Shotgun on the spice cabinet!

(holding arm high
with thumb up)
You rock, dude!
(to Sharyl Attkkison)
Sorry, I've got to go.

Janeane turns and exits into the background.

So there you have it, Dan. A
horrible disaster interspersed
with a seed of hope. As Turkey
Hill rebuilds and endures while
its benefactor faces an uncertain
legal future, Martha Stewart Living
promises to take on a whole new
connotation in days to come. This
is Sharyl Atkisson, reporting for
CBS News in Westport, Connecticut.



Amber Johnson, the little girl from Martha Stewart's show, relaxes in a window seat, listening to Brittany Spears music on headphones and sipping a fruit drink. A stewardess, checking the passenger log, approaches.

(reading clipboard)
So I see there's been a change made
in this ticket assignment.

Yes, I exchanged a one-way adult
ticket for a round trip child.
My mommy made a mistake on the

You're flying all alone?

My brother was supposed to come
with me, but he had to enroll in
a Winsor Pilates program. He's
been having some weight issues.

Oh, that's a great program. God
knows if it weren't for that, I'd
look like one of the "Facts of Life"
girls. Are you going to meet family?

(smiling innocently)
No, I'm just running an errand
for a friend.

Scene dissolves to the cargo area of the plane. A large trunk vibrates slightly. A closer look shows an address tag made out to a remote location in the Amazon basin.

A cutaway view reveals Sergio Calzone inside the trunk, completely covered except for his eyes and nose with a combination of origami and decoupage, effectively mummifying him. He struggles desperately to free himself and mumbles almost inaudibly through the material covering his mouth.

Curse you, Janeane Garofalo! You
haven't heard the last of me yet!


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 !  Sidebar Information /
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 >>

  |   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11


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