Bzzzzz!
M: Yes, Colleen?
C: There’s an Elvira Nightshade on line 2.
M: Never heard of her. Have her go to the site & fill out an app.
C: Yes, sir.
Bzzzz!
M: Yes?
C: She says that you are already her agent & she wants to talk to you, now.
M: Really? Ok, I’ll take the call.
C: Yes, sir. Line 2.
M: Hello? Ms. Nightshade?
E: Manny, you have to do something about the uniform.
M: Brisia! How’s it going sweetheart?
E: Not Brisia. You had me change my name, remember? I can’t believe I let you guys legally change my name to Elvira Nightshade.
M: That’s right, & a lovely name it is, Elvira. So, what’s happening kitten?
E: It’s the uniform. It’s not fair.
M: What do you mean it’s not fair?
E: Well, the drivers get a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, & forearm pads.
M: Uh-huh.
E: The chain gets padding from the back of the hand to the shoulder, padding from the top of the ankle to above the knee, & the helmet has a face plate.
M: She should be well protected.
E: Yeah, that’s just it. As the qwik, all I get is a corset & a pair of shorts. A corset & pair of shorts against hockey sticks & a chain with a 1 kilo metal ball on the end. It’s not right, Manny.
M: How are the ears, kiddo?
E: The ears? Oh, they’re ok. The stitches come out tomorrow. I miss having ear lobes. How am I supposed to wear earrings without ear lobes?…. Anyway, you’re changing the subject. What about my uniform? I’ll get killed out there wearing that.
M: Sweetheart! You’re the star, the qwik. You’ve got the speed to slip past them.
E: Speed? Have you seen the shoes? They’re high heels for goodness sake. How am I supposed to run 50 meters in the grass in high heels?
M: It’s not grass, kiddo. It’s carpet. We’re playing indoors.
E: Have you ever tried running in high heels, Manny? It’s not for the faint of heart, you know. I want sensible running shoes & a helmet!
M: Kiddo! Sweetheart! Elvira. The uniforms are the best ones selected by the focus groups. And they all agree that the uniform is you, baby.
E: Focus groups? Who were on these focus groups…. teenaged boys? Or louts from the strip club? My uniform is little more than underwear!
M: You’re the star, baby. People want to see your pretty face on the jumbo-tron. Besides, it’s in the rules not to hit the qwik in the head or face. Just like in the old league, there’s a fine & suspension for doing so.
E: Just like the old league? HA!…. Manny, in case you’ve forgotten, Greta Kachowski hit me in the face with a folding chair! The league fined her & some “fan” paid the fine for her. They also paid her while she was suspended. I had to have reconstructive surgery! I missed the same number of games that she missed. Only, she made money while I had to learn how to eat again.
M: Look on the bright side, that little nose of yours has never looked cuter.
E: Go to hell, Manny. I want a helmet.
M: I’m sorry, kitten, but there’s no helmet in the contract.
E: There’s no gun in the contract, either.
M: Gun?
E: I’m going to shoot you, if I don’t get a helmet.
M: Baby?
E: I’m going to shoot you where it hurts, Manny.
M: You don’t need a helmet, honest, kitten.
E: It’s a big gun with big bullets, Manny.
M: Ok, ok. I’ll call Thorsson & the owners & get you a helmet.
E: And decent running shoes?
M: (sigh) And running shoes. Anything else for you, kitten?
E: No, that’ll be fine. You’re the greatest, Manny!
M: Anything to make my clients happy, sweetheart…. Anything to keep Mrs. Liebowitz’s son, Manny, from getting shot.
OMG, that scripting was great.
“There’s no gun in the contract, either.”
Sweet Lord that was out of nowhere and a great straight line for the follow-on, “It’s a big gun with big bullets, Manny.”