Lucy’s Story
Internal Links:
The Beginning - September 24
Update -September 28
Update - October 1
Update - October 5
Update - October 8
Update - October 12
Update - October 15
Update - October 19
Update - October 22
Update - October 26
Update - October 29
We find Lucy from thedealer’s profile, Lucky Brown. (Which I’m pretty sure we found from the forums)
At Lucy’s page we find
Robert’s Hole Card - This is the start of our story. The movie is set in a graveyard, where we see Lucy, nervously playing with the Navy Colt. Her pocketwatch shows 12 noon. We hear her name yelled and the camera pans to a rather smarmy looking dude waving a newspaper (Robert Brown). As Lucy walks towards him, a shot rings out and knocks Robert down (doh!). Lucy quickly grabs the colt and aims it at the shooter (Kick Coover. Why do I keep wanting to call him Cooter?!). There’s some “ohhhh I’m gonna shoot you” “noooo I’m gonna shoot you” dialogue here that’s pretty unimportant. Then our good buddy and fellow Gamblers Anonymous member Clay Sizemore shows up, there’s some more firing and what not and general melee and Lucy drops the Colt, Coover runs away, and Sizemore also skedattles. End Scene!
You Always Were Bad Luck - This piece of text starts out with a bit from thedealer:
Meet Lucy. I didn’t mean to get her shot at, but now the killing’s started and she’s in the game to the last call whether she likes it or not. Worse, there’s not much I can do about it. I’m just the dealer, now. I can show you the cards, but you have to play them.
You and Lucy Brown…
The text that follows tells us that Lucy waited with Robert’s body for the cops (prior to dying, Robert tells Lucy that she was “always bad luck”), allowing Clay to run away (apparently, he wasn’t allowed to have a gun 
Odd, convicted felons not allowed to have guns! This must not be in America!). We learn that Clay considers himself the preacher, and that he followed Lucy from the GA meeting to the cemetary. She tries to call Clay, but he’s not answering his phone, so she emails him instead (claysizemore(at)gmail.com - link within text. Auto-reply:
Here is your next card, kid…
* * *
From: Clay
Sent: Wednesday, September 21, 5:23 PM
To: Lucy
Subject: re: answer your damn phoneLucy, you have got to call the police. I was being selfish this morning when I let you cover for me. Please, tell them everything. Whoever left that message on your machine knows too much. He means business.
I never meant to put you in danger.
CS
> On 9/21/2005 Lucy wrote:
> Clay> Been trying to get you for hours. Answer your damn phone or buy one that works.
> Listen, I had to tell the cops there were two shooters, there were shell-casings
> everywhere. I told them I never saw the second guy, but you should get rid of
> that gun.> OK, and so I had another nasty surprise when I got home, a message on my limo
> number. Check it out. 1-877-768-8147. Push * and then 5829, thats the access
> code.> See what you think.
> Lucy
> P.S. Thanks for saving my ass.
> P.P.S. Remind me to show you how to shoot a gun. What did they teach you at
> that seminary, dawg?
Lucy listens to the message on her answering machine and quickly downs her Corona and starts on a Dos Equis (damn girl! We should hang out sometime!)
Calling the phone number within the email gets you the opportunity to listen in on the message on Lucy’s machine that got her all freaked out.
Unwelcome Visitors - We learn here that the Saturday following the death of Robert, Lucy came home to find some old smelly dude in her apartment (I hate it when that happens. Usually for me though, I wake up to find them next to me). Being quick on the up-take, Lucy concludes that the smelly Euro dude in her apartment is the same guy who left the threatening message on her answering machine. This dude wants to know about the gun (The Gun! The Gun! Jeez, is that all anyone talks about around here?).
Lucy’s Little Black Book - An image of a day-runner page with the following information:
Shiner (W. Hollywood Casting Office)
(310)694-3992-Rob’t cemetary 12 noon.
Calling the phone number lets you listen to 5 messages from Richard Brunswick to Willie (William Shiner). Ritchie’s kinda pissed.
UPDATE DAY - September 28, 2005
Ohhh the joys of Update Day. A flurry of activity met us, and we gathered the following new information from Lucy’s profile:
Andadaughter 2 - So apparently, Lucy wasn’t exactly the family favorite. Dear old Dad used to talk about his three FAAAAABulous boys… oh right, and they also have a daughter (No future self-esteem issues here. No siree. No therapy needed!). We learn the names of Lucy’s three brothers: Seth (Stanford Law - obvious wanker; married Barbie doll Kathleen; birthed Cara), Zach (Math “Diva”? Identity issues, anyone? Lives in Boston, trying to get into grad school and taking GREs), and Devon (Currently on a ship in Antarctica doing research on something significantly less interesting than the heart (personal bias)). Only Seth made it to the funeral (right, and dorkwad Dad). Robert’s widow, Millie, lost it
Going to Devon’s profile on LCP gave us a fax from Mrs. Brown to Devon. Here we discover that Lucy’s poker face went apeshit at the funeral and that she made her mom go over and talk to some dude named Maurice (Maurice Pikar), an old acquaintance of Robert’s dad and apparently one of Lucky’s old war buddies. He and Lucky met in Germany at a rather good hanging. It seems likely that our dear Maurice is the guy who broke into Lucy’s apartment earlier, or maybe it’s the guy who took all of Lucy’s money in a high-stakes poker game.
Scum of the Month Club - Following the advice the family lawyer, Jerry, always gave her, Lucy answered and asked no questions when the cops showed up at her apartment except for “am I under arrest” and “can I get my purse?” Just as they were getting ready to haul her ass in, Lucy spots good ol’ Clay driving up.
Clay’s profile gives us his perspective on the deal, informing us that Clay was on his way over to Lucy’s to give her the Colt back when he stumbled upon her getting arrested (good timing Clay!). He hears Lucy yelling as she was shoved into the squad car “Who shot him? Why? And where is the god damn gun?” I could answer that for you Lucy, but really, we’d just have to stop playing now, and I don’t want to do that
Update Saturday - October 1st, 2005
Stol, my dear friends! The last we saw of Lucy she was getting arrested for… something. Maybe they think she killed Robert or knew more than what she said (you know, like about Clay being there or something silly like that). This week’s update gives us the information about her bail bonds agency, American Eagle, and that she was bailed out of jail for $10,000 by some dude named S. Bassi (ooooo we’ll come back to him ).
Lucky (thedealer) sent the players a copy of an email written by Lucy and sent to her brother, Devon
From: Lucy Brown
Sent: Saturday, October 1, 2005
To: Devon Brown
Subject: You’re A SquidDev-
Don’t tell mom, but I got picked up by the cops because they thought I was holding out info on Robert’s murder. DON’T TELL MOM. I was only in over-night, but she would freak and feel guilty.
You always write me incredibly cool emails about squid and penguins and krill. But nobody ever thinks you’re a penguin. I think you’re a squid, but I’ve known you a long time.
The police picked me up around four in the afternoon. I scored a place on the bench at about 2:00 AM. A stringy red-head in fishnets crawled under the bench to sleep. Clearly, a coke addict with no sense of smell. If she could smell, she wouldn’t have let her skin touch that floor. She was there until the holding cell started emptying out in the morning when her pimp/boyfriend bailed her out.
By 9:00 it’s me and a black woman in the smallest pair of shorts you’ve ever seen. She was drumming her fingers against the bench. “He better get his ass down here,” she finally says. Then she looks at me. “Your man taking his time too, I see.”
At which point it dawns on me that she thinks I’m a hooker. Which so sucks, Dev, because even if the skirt is short, it was DKNY and cost $130 on the clearance rack.
I told her I wasn’t waiting on anybody.
“You freelance? You crazy, girl.”
I told her I have trouble following orders
The hooker laughed. “Don’t we all.”
She was like, twenty-six going on sixty, needle-tracks, a tattooed V on her shoulder like a cattle brand. If we were betting, she’d play angry and lose, because life has dealt her such crappy cards that she thinks that not falling down when you got the crap kicked out of you was winning.
She perks up all the sudden. “Hey, you want the name of a good bailbondsman?” She pulls a business card from a stash under the rolled-down waistband of her shorts. “This is the guy my man uses. Don’t tell nobody where you got it. They’ll start searching me in my private spots.”
American Eagle Bail Bonds. Se habla español.
I said thanks and even though it’s a scary thought that prostitutes are doing me favors, I gotta admit, I was so tired and so weirded out, I meant it. She was the first person who had been nice to me.
Then the CO (us insiders don’t say ‘corrections officers’) says, ‘Morning Shaylee’ like you’d talk to someone at the coffee machine at the office.
“Here’s my ride,” she says and stands up. Then she stops, looks at me, and I swear, I swear, she says, “Those are nice shoes. You shouldn’t waste ‘em on work.”
Kate Spade knock-offs. And they made my feet hurt. Shaylee was so right.signed yr sister the criminal case
where we learn that Lucy got the name of American Eagle from a chick (Shaylee) in the cell with her, who mistook her for another hooker (I hate it when that happens. I mean, geez, if I had a dime for every time I was confused for a hooker… well… oh look, CheezDoodles…).
Anyways, calling the phone number on the American Eagle Bonds card gets you a recorded message that leads to the discovery of the profile of Vaquero, Shaylee’s pimp, who I affectionately call “Rico Suave.” So good ol’ Rico Suave does what I find to be teh total hotnez, which is refer to his hos as “cattle” and a “herd” (please pause while I femininely “mooooooo”). But! Let us remember as he deftly points out that he is one of “the good ones” who knows how to “handle the merchandise” (I know, I know, he’s just a character but GAH OMG I just want to choke the sexist pig out of him with my Fist of Feminism. And no, I really don’t mean THAT kind of female fisting. Gah, you boys. So gross!). Oooo. Talk sweet to me, Rico. I like it.
ANYWAYS - From Vaquero, we move to our girlfriend Shaylee Kingston, Lucy’s cellmate in the pokey (heh heh. Poker. Pokey. I wonder how many different “Poke”s we can rack up). First off, I’d just like to say that girl needs to either get herself a bigger skirt or lay off the sandwiches. And maybe ease up on the collagen lips. And maybe some Frizz-Ease ™. But I digress.
Shaylee’s profile gives us a lovely conversation between her and another one of Rico Suave’s girls, Spider (ooo Spider. Who else is all creepy crawly on the inside? Ok, yeah, me either.). Spider apparently has some Lesbian Ninja Chick thing going on, prancing about in her “man killer” outfit (I have those too, but they usually don’t involve boots but rather deep v-neck shirts that accentuate the cleavage. Different purposes, I guess) and doesn’t really enjoy her life (join the club, sistah) and would prefer not to have to do this escort service business (weeweeweeeweee I’m tearing up). Finding Spider’s profile gives background into why she might feel this way, highlighting how her mother was also “in the business, had a crapass boyfriend Ed, and died of Hepatitis C. Ok, fair enough. I guess I can spare a tear or two.
How do Spider, Shaylee and Vaquero tie into Lucy’s Story? Who the crap knows.
I’ve got more stuff to go over though (yey!)
Meanwhile, over at the local 7-11, Clay (the preacher) is over squirtin’ Slurpees into cups faster than you can say “Red slushie.” He gets visited by a dude with whom he has an interesting conversation about church, God, and redemption and leads into the confession of the mystery dude behind the rack of Playboys (or the racks on the Playboy… hardeeharhar). Mystery dude has killed a lot of men, but he’s not bothered by it. El Cigaretto?
The next day, Clay gets a visit from a big Israeli dude who lets himself into Clay’s apartment. He tells Clay that he’s looking for a gun (insert infamous Navy Colt here), which as we know, Clay has. Or used to have, as the case may be, since another one of the updates is “Where to Hide A Gun” and a picture of “The Garden Of Eden. Having thoroughly turned over Clay’s apartment, Mr. Israel 2005 leaves and apologizes for the inconvenience (oh NOW, NOW you apologize. After leaving a big mess! My mother would be very upset with you!) (Btw, good timing on the hiding of the gun, Clay).
An update on Maurice Pikar’s page gave us the name of the Israeli dude, Simon Bassi (also the same guy who bailed Lucy out?! WTF! Disney was right! It’s a small world after all!) (The picture on Maurice’s page has writing that translates to Simon’s nickname “Hasochet“). There we find Simon climbing into Maurice’s car after sacking Clay’s place and finding nothing. Asking Maurice why he cares about the gun, Maurice responds that it’s an old debt: “I knew a man during the war. When we walked into Buchenwald, he was there with me.”
Going back to Maurice’s page, we found a new flashback piece of text from 1969 (It’s not currently on the Enigma Archives, so I’ll paste it here in full)
Asuncion, Paraguay, was remarkably 19th century. No skyscrapers, no tourist sites. Just low balconied buildings and a few masterless dogs loping along streets lined with orange trees. Some people thought it had the best beer in South America. Hard to believe that across the globe, Americans were napalming Vietnam.
It was hot, of course.
Maurice presented himself at the prison at the edge of town. It was a long mean building with a row of windows on the third floor. The windows were covered in small wooden shutters, but many of the shutters had broken louvers and hard, dark-eyed men watched him. A uniformed mestizo boy with the thinnest of moustaches asked him importantly for documents and he presented a German passport that said ‘Günther Weiss.’ The boy fiddled with his automatic weapon’s safety while he looked at the incomprehensible document, then told Maurice to wait. The man who came back looked more Indian than Spanish. He handed Maurice back his passport.
Maurice followed the man through the prison. The cells were rooms, some with twenty or more men.
They came to an older part of the prison and a hall of closed doors with no bars. Each door had a little sliding trapdoor for food, and another at eye level to look at the occupants. The man slid one of them back and peered inside, then pulled out a mess of keys. It was very medieval.
There was only one prisoner inside. He blinked watering blue eyes in the unexpected light.
Was soll das? he asked.
Ich will dich da rausholen. Sag jetzt nichts, Maurice said.
But the man kept asking, what is going on? What is happening? while Maurice and the Indian-looking man hoisted him up from the floor. He stank, of course, and in the dark and damp, his skin on his arms had gone gray, like someone who has been in a bathtub too long, and it rubbed off on Maurice’s hand.
Gracias, Maurice said to the jailer. He handed him an envelope. The Indian-looking man watched him take the prisoner out the door, his face quite without expression. He did not try to hide the envelope.
The prisoner was blinking at the orange trees and crying. Maurice put him in the car, an ancient Chevy with no springs. They drove away from Asuncion towards Piribebuy.
Wer sind Sie? the prisoner asked. Warum tun Sie das? Hat Gottlieb Sie geschickt? Ich habe meine Brille nicht. Meine Brille ist kaputt.
Maurice didn’t answer and after a while the man stopped talking and simply rode with his mouth slightly open, the wind coming through the passenger side window, which wouldn’t roll up. About two hours outside of the city, Maurice stopped the car.
The man looked around. Wo sind wir? he asked.
Maurice opened the door and grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him out. The man stumbled and nearly fell. Maurice held him up firmly but without rancor.
They walked quite a ways away from the road, through the small scrubby trees. When Maurice felt they were far enough away he said, Ich bin der Scharfrichter.
The man looked at him, not comprehending.
Bergen-Belsen, Maurice said.
Nein, the man said, Nein, Sie müssen mir helfen.
Maurice shot him.
The shot was surprisingly loud and startled birds rose. Maurice waited twenty minutes but no one came. He left the body and walked back to the car.
(Full translation was provided at UF by Giskard)
What does it all MEAN?! What did Maurice and Lucky do?! Who is this Spider person and how will she connect to Lucy?! Where will the story go next?! Why have I eaten an entire bag of Munchos?!
The answer to these questions and more to come in future updates!
Update Wednesday - October 5th
This week, we’re introduced to Lucy’s mom, Janet, through a piece of text on Devon’s page. Lucy’s artwork from age 11 was a deck of cards, of which her mother was “like the Jack of Spades” only female, or the oneeyedqueen. On Janet’s page, we learn that Lucky had left Janet and Lucy’ father, Rick, money to cover that which Lucy lost for them (er, I guess that was actually their house) which they spent to buy a condo. Mom is, as always, concerned for Lucy’s well-being, while good ol’ Pop-pop just wants to get her into counseling.
Pop-pop put Lucy in counseling before when she was a child, where the therapist claimed that Lucy suffered from temporal lobe epilepsy which resulted in her seeing saints (or, as mom remembers, Lucy had just looked it up at the library and mimic the symptoms).
Janet wants to move Lucy into a better neighborhood, and to do that wants to offer some money for rent on a better place. Dad decides that’s totally out of the question and just enabling Lucy (he’s been to the GA meetings you know He knows the history of psychology. You don’t! … Oops sorry. Tom Cruise moment there). Considering that Janet’s eyes turn to cold marbles, I’m guessing she’s not keen on Rick and his infuriating fake tenderness so much. I can’t say that I blame her
Meanwhile, Lucy’s driving around business men and telling them stories about living with her parents and graduating college, giving up her life and joining the Peace Corps (gag me with a spoon), which makes one think that she really does want a better life than the one she has now, but has little power to change it (See? You wouldn’t be enabling her! Take THAT Rick!).
Lucy then goes to pick up Willie Shiner to take him to the poker game she’s set up for him as practice for Celebrity Poker Survivor! (I know, it doesn’t actually have a ! at the end of it, but I think it needs it. It’s a special flair!). There, she meets his yuppie-death glare giving neighbors, the Chapmans, who were packing their Lexus SUV with camping gear (what yuppies go CAMPING? I’ve never seen my parents go camping…). Willie stumbles out of his place, trips over the Chapman’s cooler, nearly gasses everyone within a 5-foot radius with his Cuervo fumes, and then has the gall to complain that Lucy getting thrown in jail last Friday could ruin HIS career and make him an expose on E! TV like P. Diddy. Dude. Seriously. You’re Willis. There’s nothing that could make you P. Diddy.
So, Lucy drives Willie to the poker game, where she leaves him to leak money like a sieve. She comes back in and starts a massive coughing fit, and freaks the shit out when the flop cards start hitting the table.
The cards Lucy sees over Willie’s shoulder contain an alphabetic code that was solved by Unfiction members. Putting this cipher to the test reveals the message “Maurice is All In.” which led to Lucy’s extreme cough-y coughs.
This gets Willie kicked out of the poker game, so Lucy gets the distinct pleasure of driving the dinkus home, during which he starts whining about his career and how he’s going to end up on E! (Seriously, NO ONE watches E! The freaking should stop NOW). After a sound bitchslapping by Lucy where she points out he lost more money per hand then she spends on rent a month, Willie realizes that he is a sad little human (oh, and now the pity card ). He mentions how deathly pale Lucy was during the game, sending chills down Lucy’s spine, and offers her his walk-in closet to stay in (oh gee, thanks).
Red. Red. Black. Ace and queen of diamonds first in the flop, queen and nine of hearts, ace of spades at the river. The death card.
Lucy is rightly freaked out and in need of a drink. Might I suggest a Corona?
But no! Lucy stops off at her local pub for a scotch on the rocks (yum yum) where she has a little meeting (this is a very tasty movie) with the effervescent Spider, who loves a girl in uniform. Funny, though, as Spider’s not there to actually there to hit on Lucy which we discover when Spider whips out a pair of Lucy’s panties, shoves a knife in them and says she’s recently been to Lucy’s flat (those were nice looking undies, too. I have a couple of pairs like that, but mine came from Victoria’s Secret, not J.C. Penny, so I probably paid a lot more. Dammit.) looking for (dun dun DUUUUUN) The Gun.
Lucy notices the tattoo on Spider’s wrist that marks her as one of Vaquero’s girls, and when she doesn’t tell Spider where the gun is (which she couldn’t as she doesn’t know Clay buried it in his garden ), Spider turns the friendly meeting into a Barroom Brawl (Cat fight! All this needs is some Jell-o wrestling and the boys playing along would wank themselves silly). At the end, Lucy bets that Spider doesn’t have the will to shoot her now and guesses right. However, Spider leaves, saying she’ll be seeing Lucy again. This Spider is one naaaaaaaaaaaasty beeyotch.
Back to the story -
So Lucy sees the cards spell out “Maurice is all in”… where IS our dear Maurice?
Well, Don McPherson sees Maurice talking to Phillip Kim at the local Applebees, trading guns for information (ooo bribes. good stuff) on Robert Brown’s murder (which funnily, Don also looked into) sorta, because they’re really looking for the Navy Colt.
Maurice then heads up to the Santa Monica Rancher’s Club to do a few gun deals on Rosh Hashanah (after dark! 
Naughty Maurice!). He finishes up his deal and heads to his car, where a skinny blonde dude is waiting for him (El Cigaretto! dun dun DUUUN). El Cigaretto tries to get Maurice to look away 1) by asking for information about himself, as Cigaretto has scratched his car - Strike One, and 2) Mentioning what a damned funny place that is for a canoe - Strike Two. Maurice then mentiones how he’s been killing people since El Cigaretto has been in diapers, and then decides that it would be a really swell idea to try to whoop some teeny bopper ass. Which fails miserably as Maurice is a slow old dude now. He ends up on the ground, staring down the barrel of El Cigaretto’s gun, thinking how perfect it is that he, a Jew who fought in WWII against the Nazis, would be killed later by some blonde haired, blue eyed, bearded Arian jackass.
Players were treated to a phone call from the Club’s housekeeper, Clara, who found Maurice’s body in the garage. Ta ta for now, Maurice. See you on the Poker Tables 
The update starts with a new email from Lucy to her brother, Devon about boogers and snot, which is often one of my favorite topics, but usually I bring those up to try to rid myself of boring people at a party. Snot and diarrhea. But I digress:
From: Lucy Brown
Sent: Saturday, October 8
Subject: Buckets of SnotHey Penguin-Boy,
The picture of the salps you sent was particularly disgusting in light of your
comment that they look like snot. It’s a glamorous job you’ve got down there.
Hauling buckets of snot out of freezing cold water. Makes me want to roll the
windows down, which I did since It Is Warm Here. And I went and had tamales at
Conchita’s just for you. And they were fabulous.
Okay, enough of being a bitch. Can’t wait until you get home, even though I
know you are actually in pig heaven out there freezing your ass off.
Lucky used to take me to Conchita’s all the time. Can’t stop thinking about
him these days.
Remember that time I had to move back in with mom and dad because I was so
broke, and everybody was telling me to quit the cards? Lucky told me to keep
playing. ‘Play harder,’ he said. He said I would break through, that I’d be
one of those people who made it. Like I’m going to be the next Chris
Moneymaker.
Then when I lost really big, and I knew I had to walk away from the cards, you
know, he tried to talk me out of it. He offered me the money I’d lost. And I
told him to screw off and give the money to mom, and SHE told him to screw off
and stop trying to bribe his way out of having Corrupted Her Daughter, and…
So there’s this flaky good-natured con man trying to give away like a hundred
grand and none of us will take it, and he was absolutely a bad influence and he
was absolutely the one person in the family I loved the most-
–But I wouldn’t talk to him anymore. And what I told myself was, Lucky was
the one guy who could talk me into playing again. That’s what I said. I was
taking the moral high road, I was the GA Centerfold of the Month.
…except now sometimes I think maybe part of me was just ashamed to see him
anymore because I was a loser.
Loser.
Loser.
Loser.
And I was used to being a loser for everyone else (not counting Penguin Boy).
But I couldn’t bear to be a loser for him too.
And then he was dead.Christ, like you need to hear this. Go play with your snot.
Yr crybaby sister
Whine whine whine. Sheesh, don’t be such a BABY, Lucy.
Saturday also finds Lucy actually taking up Willie Shiner’s offer to be his roomy (I know. My … I’m speechless) until all this shit blows over with the gun, and comes to the logical conclusion that because no one else has it, Clay must be the one with the gun. She also decides that she’s quitting her job and current life and gives everyone free limo rides. WOO! Oh right, while again making up stories about how wonderful her life is going to be. You know, Peace Corps and all that.
With this in mind, Lucy and Willie head over to Clay Sizemore’s place to snag the Gunniest of all Gunnies, the Navy Colt. Clay happily retrieves it from his roof garden (Much to Willie’s chagrin. He’s most upset that he lacks roof garden) and hands it over to Lucy after having some apparently dirty thoughts (Like, EW! AGAIN! Where are the hot ARG men?! I wouldn’t find this whole thing so nasty if Clay were actually GOOD LOOKING and had a NICE JOB but NO! He’s unattractive and works at a 7-11! Come ON PMs!) about her. Lucy mentions that her next item of business is to go and rustle up the dude that broke into her apartment, but Clay rushes to the newspaper and points out Maurice Pikar’s obituary. Oopsie.
Willie and Lucy high-tail it to Maurice Pikar’s funeral, where they bump into Simon Bassi. Lucy asks if Maurice’s death was an accident, to which Simon replies it was an accident like her relative Robert Brown’s death was a big oopsie. Simon informs Lucy that the gun was owned by a Jeb Stuart (yeah, I’m with you - Who? I knew I should have payed more attention during history class…) and suggests that she be careful (oh like DUH Simon. Thanks for that helpful tidbit life lesson. I take it that Simon did NOT see that cat fight between Lucy and Spider).
Our dynamic duo Willie and Lucy (a.k.a. Cagney and Lacey) are at it again this week, starting off with a little creative reconnaisance at Robert Brown’s house while his widow Millie is in Buffalo (Self-Loathing, USA) visiting her sister. Willie worries more about his “career” (yes willie, you’ve forced me to now use quotes to encompass the word “career” because I’m really beginning to doubt that you’ll ever have an acting job again because you are so WHINY. WHINY WILLIE. Yes, that’s your new name) as they skulk around to the back of the apartment building. Lucy finds Robert’s first floor apartment, shoves her hands into a pair of latex gloves (dude, are her hands going to stink. I know. I wear them daily when I set up my experiments because I’m some big “science contaminator.” But that’s not the point. The point is that I really hope she has some hand lotion, or even better, some of that anti-bacterial instant hand wash handy because FHOO does that get rid of the latex stink) and yanks the sliding glass door lock open.
Looking around the apartment, we find that Millie has absolutely no taste for decorations. Nobody does crystal figurines and art deco black lacquer shelving anymore. Except for poor college students and pimps.
Anyways, Lucy and Willie head into the spare bedroom where Robert used to keep his computer, only Willie gets bored and thirsty from all of his whining and heads to the kitchen for a beer. After getting rightfully chafed by Lucy for stealing beer from a dead guy and his widow after breaking into their place, he starts to put it down on the computer desk WITHOUT A COASTER (dear god Willie, no wonder you’re single) but Lucy Liu saves the day for Millie’s art deco style by strongly requesting Willie grab himself a damn coaster.
Whiny Willie, being the typical sort of man who has no consideration of how freakin’ difficult it is to polish water rings out of a deco black lacquer finish, rolls his eyes and reaches for a nearby pad of paper to use in place of a coaster. After stupidly asking Lucy if reading Robert’s email was a good idea (dude, you’re 1. Already in the house and 2. already drinking dead guy’s beer and you’re going to ask if reading email is a smart thing? Now?), Lucy quips back calling him Nancy Drew (To make that really ghetto, it would have to be the Nahnsay LeDrew) which only makes Willie that much hotter for Lucy (gah). Willie suggests looking for the hidden folders on Robert’s computer, which leads Cagney and Lacey to a vast array of files arranged strategically by sex act (Booty, Big Booty, Bigger Booty, Biggest Booty).
Willie’s highly impressed by the categorization system.
Lucy’s swears she’s never touching his computer keyboard.
Seeing something, Lucy snatches the pad of paper/coaster out of Willie’s hand. The number on the paper (seen by impression) is 888-217-2311. Calling that phone number sends you to a message that asks you to input your fax number. Doing so and waiting a few short minutes will get you a copy of a fax (image kindly scanned and hosted by Ariock) with the title “Liberty Calls: The Brotherhood of Modern Minute Men” (and I’m guessing this isn’t the Missy Elliot version of “Minute Man”, but just as horrid in my opinion), which essentially reads like an idiot manifesto against the government and anything non-Christian. Nonetheless, the fax is important for it introduces us to a new character, Lothar Barbel, Chairman of Liberty Calls.
Once again, we’re treated to an un-hot old man character with nasty, racist tendencies (seriously PMs, would it be THAT hard to give us just ONE hot, semi-good, like, I dunno, Bounty Hunter or something? Something we girlies can drool over?). Lothar is the author of one verrah fine pamphlet/dumbbook titled “How the Jews Cost the South the Civil War: The Confederacy and the Zionist Conspiracy,” one page of which totally tries to eat the soul of the Rothschilds out with a spoon while complaining that the addition of fancy gold fringe to the U.S. flag makes it baaaad. Ooo grandpappy! Tell me that good story about when you whipped the slaves too! Nonetheless, it looks as though our original thoughts that Maurice Pikar was the buyer were wrong.
Whoever the new “Big Hat” is for Mi Casa, it sounds like they’re going to be on the lookout for Lucy and the Gun, and they’re even starting to do some surveilance on Lucy and OMG WHO IS THERE WATCHING HER BATHE?! IS THAT….. WHINY WILLIE?! *ScarpeGrosse faints*
While all the male players are still drooling over the “Lucy in a bathtub” scene from last week, we’re forced to remember that Lucy actually is shacking up with Willie. Somehow. The true meaning behind “shacking” and “up” has yet to be totally determined and really I’m kinda hoping that we can keep whatever the booty in the bathtub bit to ourselves.
Lucy, as usual, emails her brother Devon:
From: Lucy Brown
Sent: Friday, October 14, 2005
To: Devon Brown
Subject: Eighth Wonder of the Ancient WorldDev,
I’m staying with a friend, a guy-nothing romantic. William’s a sweetie but also
a trainwreck. The kind of guy girls bitch to about their awful boyfriends. Not
that I have one of those, either. Just think of me as yr sister the nun.
He lives in this very expensive loft that’s supposed to look like it was
transplanted from New York or something. It’s honking huge. It’s got a
doorman. Stan Corbet. An ancient guy they must have dragged out of the La Brea
Tar Pits. He can never remember that I live here. He says I’m ‘not on the
list.’ Then William has to call down and say that I am staying with him and
it’s okay, except William doesn’t spend a lot of time sober, as such, and it
takes a while for him to get to the door, you know?
But today William finally remembered to email the co-op board or Homeowner’s
Association or Bureau of Foreign Affairs or whatever, and this morning Stan
informed me that I am On The List. He seemed disappointed.A lot of things in the last week have brought it to my attention that I may not
come across to people the way I think I do. First there was the Night in Jail
where I was taken for a working girl. Then there was the Eighth Wonder of the
Ancient World. And on Thursday, I picked up this woman out at the airport
Hilton, and she was kind of pretty but, you know, hard. Lines around the mouth
like the edge of a playing card, straight and sharp. I had her for the morning,
stopping and waiting while she visited clients. After awhile I started looking
in the rearview mirror, looking at my own face.
I kept thinking of this woman I, uh, Met in a Bar. We kind of got into an
altercation. Not my fault (for once.) She’s part of the reason I’m staying at
William’s. Anyway, I find myself wondering how she ended up the way she is.
And how the woman I was driving around ended up with a face you could bounce
bullets off.
I guess it will all keep me working my program. Keep me on the straight and
narrow. And I still haven’t picked up a deck of cards.yr sister the one day at a time girl
Willie finally pulls his ass out of bed an hour after Lucy has left for work. He stares at himself in the mirror, deciding that he’s not a black actor, as they have dignity and rage - he just has a shitty hangover. So I guess that makes him a white actor?
Anyways, Willie’s bored and needs people around, and since the Lucy booty is unavailable, he’s forced to call some random blonde skank and twelve of his other very close friends (not) up for some drinks and a bit of a party.
Having decided that this means that he’s accomplished something good today, he trots joyfully to the mailbox, where he finds a package addressed to Lucy (but in “care of” himself) from Simon Bassi. Deciding that the “c/o William Shiner” means “Hey Willie! Get nosy and open Lucy’s Mail!” Willie rips open the envelope. Inside, he finds Maurice Pikar’s Hugh Hefner-like Little Black Book. The page shows a diagram of a HangMan with the text “Unknown SD 10/15/45 observed. Mueller, Franz (?) re: Johnnie W 10/19/45.”
So Willie has his little drinks party, and his doorman Stan Corbet, isn’t not too happy to see another bloke, Johnny Deuces, at the foray. Hmm. Is this Johnny fellow a good guy? I think not.
Lucy comes home following work to find a blonde passed out on the ping pong table with her fake tits akimbo, floating about in buoyant space, and Willie passed out on his bed, snoring peacefully.
She goes to her room to find her room ransacked, and the box that had been storing the Navy Colt, empty.
Oopsie! Bad Johnny Deuces!
As usual, Lucy’s out driving her limo, lying about her life, and about how she just divorced her alcoholic husband, William (bwahaha! Pause while I laugh). Her fare mentions how alcoholism is a disease and how it all makes you believe in redemption…
And how, Mr. Fare Payer.
So Willie’s feeling a little bad about that whole “My Shitty Ass Friend Just Rifled Through Your Underwear Drawer and Closet and Stole Your Gun While I Was Passed Out” thing, so when she comes in the door, he’s happy she’s turned off the Frosty the Snowbitch persona.
So glad in fact, that he finally remembers that envelope she got in the mail a couple of days ago and thinks to hand it over to her (geez, Willie, nothing like good timing ). Lucy looks at the contents and remarks about how it’s oddly filled with names and dates and places, some in South America, some going back to WW2. Inside were two pictures and a note from Simon Bassi: “Maurice knew your uncle during the war. He said that he was looking into Robert’s death because it was an old debt. These were all I could find from that War. Good luck finding out what has happened. Justice be served, Simon.” Is that “Martin” scribbled on the back of that picture of the girl?
And what OF Johnny Deuces and the Navy Colt? Oh, right, Johnny had the most BRILLIANT plan to hide the gun in a pawn shop for *cough* $75. Of course he also manages to pick the pawn shop with the gang ties. Which just makes it that much more absolutely flabulous. Calling the number on Johnny’s receipt gives you the name of the shop owner, a Mr. Toller Fazio, who might i say, looks like a cross between Hitler and John Cleese. Anyways, after ripping Johnny’s gun out of his cold, dumbass hands for $75, Toller calls up his buddy Tony Viet, only things aren’t looking so good for Tony…
*cracks knuckles as she sits down to write*
Ok, then. Lucy sends an email to her brother, Devon, mentioning that their other brother (Zach) has called her to see how she’s doing. Which, honestly, is not well. She’s freakin’ out because of the whole Spider stabbing her Victoria’s Secret panties into a bar thing and the fact that people keep breaking into her place and rifling their hands through her skivvies. Which I understand. I myself am not keen on strange hands in my pants. You don’t know if they’ve been recently washed. Next thing you know, you’ve got some uncomfortable itchiness going on down there and all hell breaks loose and you have to tell your mom that you’ve got some “issues” and then she makes fun of you for years. Or something. I’m guessing. I don’t really know. Swear.
Speaking of moms, Lucy’s mom Janet has found an old family letter from 1929 addressed to Mary from Seamus, congratulating them on the birth of their second son. Seamus was apparently a cop in Chicago at the time, making a lot of money and will be toasting the new baby with real alcohol when he gets the chance (This is still a little bit of a question as to where it fits in, but will most likely play in The Story of 1929)
But the freaked-outness continues for Lucy as she receives yet another mysterious package in the mail (It’s just a good thing that the whole Anthrax scare is over, otherwise Lucy would be purchasing stock in Cipro right about now). This one is again sent from Simon Bassi and contains pictures taken by Victor Aldridge of Robert Brown’s cemetary shooting. Lucy’s scribbled a couple of questions on the envelope, including “Q: Who was Victor Aldridge?” and “Q: How did the photos get to the LAPD?” Under the LAPD address label, Lucy’s able to find a different label addressed to Corazon Suarez. Lucy decides to head over there for a little “How De Do” with the photographer’s girlfriend (OMG, is she in for a suprise…) while Willie snacks on an apple fritter and a screwdriver and asks if that’s a good idea (just shut UP Willie. Shut UP and eat your damn fritter and pass out, would ya? Maybe you can get yourself on a celebreality show then.)
So Lucy skips over there, knocks on Corazon’s door and introduces herself. Which is good, because Corazon is thinkin’ that Lucy looks a bit like a rent-a-cop in that limo driver uniform of hers. Corazon also is thinkin’ that “Lucy Brown” doesn’t sound very much like a white girl name (Corrie, Corrie, Corrie. What IS a white girl name? Jennifer Smithy? Because I guarantee it isn’t going to be Josefina Hotentot. Sheesh. That’s so racist. Racist Corazon!). Lucy asks if Corazon knows of a Victor Aldridge, because she happened to get some pictures of his in the mail.
While Lucy’s wondering what it is with transvestites and makeup, Corazon is trying to fit the pictures into the whole story of Vic’s disappearance. By the time Lucy gets to the bit about the Bar Brawl A-Go-Go with Spider and the stabbing of the panties, Corazon’s rolling her (his?) eyes, complaining about the cliche campiness of the panty stabbing, and inviting Lucy in.
Meanwhile, Kerry’s finding himself awakening in the trunk of a car. It seems like the everywhere man, Simon Bassi, has hunted him down, though he promised Lucy that he wouldn’t kill the guy (but as Simon says, accidents do happen. Heh. Simon Says. SIMON SAYS EAT MY SHORTS! Simon says…. Get in the trunk! Simon Says… Go Jump of That there Cliff! Bwahahahah. Oh, story. Right). Simon drives Kerry’s lifeless, chloroformed bod to Maurice’s home, where he can unload him in private. He half-carries Kerry (oh the puns are just flowing today!) into the laundry room. There he rips off the blindfold and rather bluntly informs Kerry that he’s thinking of killing him. In fact, he would kill him if he thought Kerry was the actual man behind the gun, but Simon’s pretty sure that there’s someone out there merely using Kerry as a tool (And no, it’s not Corazon. Not using THAT tool), so instead, Simon just leaves Kerry bound and gagged in Maurice’s laundry room and heads out to do his other nefarious deeds.
Simon Bassi makes it back to Maurice’s house after his errand running (everyone needs toilet paper, and you sure don’t want to be without on a bad poop day) and checks in on his new little friend, Kerry Tucker. He rips the tape off of Kerry’s mouth and strings him up by some pipes in the ceiling and sets him down for a little chat and a short game of Dress Up Barbie. Simon whips out some pictures of Kink Coover by Victor Aldridge that Maurice had gotten from Philip Kim at the LAPD and asks if Kerry knows the guy in them, or the guy who took the pictures. Kerry shakes his head “no,” causing Simon to pull out a note from Lucy which states that Lucy met Corazon, and that together they looked through Vic’s memory chips and found the original photos. She also mentions that the pictures were taken when Robert was shot, and that she thinks that’s why Vic was killed.
This causes Kerry to spill his super secrets: the dude in the photo is Kink Coover, who he hired on behalf of Don McPherson.
Simon nods happily and decides not to kill Kerry, but still beat the shit out of him for killing Maurice. Which sounds pretty fair to Kerry. Especially when compared to death and/or having to do more French braiding on those really tiny Barbie doll heads.
Since Lucy has a flair for attracting and enjoying the company of, uhm, the social oddities, she’s over having tortilla chicken pot pies and cheap wine with Corazon. Sadly, their charming cuisine is interrupted by a knock at Corazon’s door, causing Victor’s cat to get all freaky and mrow. At the door is a bloody, beaten Kerry Tucker who chooses at this point to (ta da!) admit to Corazon that he killed Victor because some dude showed him pictures of kiddie porn. Corazon, agog at the fact that Kerry would kill someone because of a few pictures almost smacks him herself (I’m guessing. I know I would).
Lucy’s voice echoes from the other room, asking if anything is wrong, which causes Kerry to get all social-phobic and worry about disrupting dinner and bleeding on Corazon’s carpet. He then asks for a towel so he can mop up the mess so it doesn’t stain the paint on her doorjam, sending Corazon into a pseudo-sympathetic spin wiping (and causing a little pain to) Kerry’s bloody face and grabbing him ice, while Lucy cracks some ascinine comments and asks what cop showed Kerry the pictures. But Kerry is a bit gunshy right now (heh, PUNNY!) and isn’t sure if he trusts a pretty bitch like Lucy. Or if he trusts Simon, for that matter, because what did Simon show him but more pictures? Just like McPherson. But he trusts Corazon because she has nothing to do with this whole shebang (heh. SHE BANG. omg. I’m on a roll) but the fact that Kerry killed her boyfriend and ran his body through the car crusher (ye-OUCH can I say? Dookies).
Later that week, Lucy’s out running limo pick-ups (Illegally, mind you, as she seems to LACK A LICENSE. Good lord) for the C-Cubed company, much to Willie Shiner’s chagrin as he wanted Lucy to drive his sad ass around. However, we finally know why Lucy keeps giving free rides - it’s not illegal if she doesn’t charge (oooo sneaky) - so everyday is her last day, which allows her to make a WHOLE lot of shit up (and the odd mystery is solved!)
However, that does leave our horrible child star, Willie, without a Lucy ride (don’t be gross. don’t be gross… OH TOO LATE) to his “audition” for Celebrity Poker Survivor, which Willie is also pissed about, because why on earth should he, Willie Child-Actor-Haventhadajobin20years, have to audition?! So Willie a) has to audition b) isn’t happy that it took nearly all of his day and c) didn’t get a Lucy ride. Could Willie’s day get any worse?
WELL, since you asked…
Willie’s limo, while they’re out driving in the middle of nowhere, gets hijacked by everyone’s favorite Lesbian Ninja in nasty pointy boots, Spider. She and her troop of not-so-English speaking construction workers stop the limo, which gives Spider time to shoot the driver in the head and kick their body out of the car. Willie, being a smart weenie (once in a while it does happen) tries to run away. Unfortunately for Willie, he’s been spending too much time sitting and drinking and playing pool and not enough time on the treadmill, so Spider’s band of merry elves has a fairly easy time of catching him and shoving him back in the limo next to Spider, who’s totally hoping that Willie will help her locate that pesky Lucy, Miss Brown if you’re nasty (NASTAY!).
Lucy meets up with her mom, Janet, who’s been going through some of Lucky’s old belongings and has found some things that Lucy might find interesting and also mom wants to check that her baby girl (who’s such a hottie) isn’t dead considering that her roomie, William, was kidnapped. Lucy emails her brother that the phone call was one of the weirdest she’s had, and that she’s going to try rescuing instead of being rescued. Anyways, Janet hands over a box of things that Lucky held onto, which were Janet’s grandmother Mary’s. Among them was a picture of an Uncle John from 1914 who was some gunslinger in Mexico (this will so come in handy for the 1914 Story).
But dear Willie (celebrity of the month, now on magazine covers everywhere) is holed up in the canyons with the Ninja Lesbian, Spider, as NinjaBabe needs the Navy Colt and thinks Willie might be a good impetus for Lucy to had it over. So Spider whips open her flip-top Kyocera cell phone and rings up Miss Brown (if you’re nasty).
Once Spider gets Lucy on the phone she’s like “Girlllll, I gots somethin’ to tell ya. You know that man? Your man-toy? He a fo’ minute man. He so small, a toothpick gives better pleasure. He so bad, I gonna cut off his ear and send it to ya in the mail. Unless you get me dat Navy Colt, beetch.”
To which Lucy replies, “Bitch! I ain’t got no gun! And you just all stretched out! But I get you da gun, ’cause I don’t like no ear in my mailbox. Plus, he lettin’ me hole up at his place and not pay no bills and that’s frontin’.”
After that, Spider heads to the laundromat to wash her panties because Miss Brown is so scary, Spider filled her diaper. Oh, and she has a meeting with Don McPherson. Don and Vaquero apparently go back far enough that Vaquero is able to give Don recommendations on bitches n’ hos for both his dining pleasure and killer ninja babe needs. Vaquero gave Don the lead on Spider when Don decided he needed someone to go after Lucy and the gun. Only Spider’s not doing so well at the assignment, as she doesn’t have the gun or Lucy and has randomly killed some other limo driver in her grabbing of the Willie. He asks if Spider has the gun yet, to which she has to say no, but Lucy’s getting it, which buys her some more time with Don before he sends her to a mattress in the crack den with a family sized tub of Vaseline (omg, like, ew. If ever the idea of prostitution was attractive (for the money) the mention of Vaseline makes it unattractive. Really. Unattractive. Maybe table dancing though… )
Spider then stomps off and hops in her Hoopie car to head back to the canyons where she’s keeping Willie. There, she has a chit-chat with Carlos Delaje, her mini-partner in crime with a hairdo as big as bejesus, who mentions that Johnny Deuces might know more about where the gun than he’s letting on. Spider (who Carlos calls Arana) tells him to hoist his buttocks over there and get the info then (geez, Carlos. Why must you be so lazy?!). Carlos asks why Spider is called Spider, which we learn she got from Vaquero when he said she was like spider that would mate with you and then eat the dude’s head off (lightening bugs do this, too. Not that it makes the image any more attractive. Bobbitted. Bam). Spider kept it because the name is better than her real one, Elsie. Which I have to agree. Elsie is a grandma name and is just fodder for the kids to make fun of.
But I digress. Carlos Delaje found Johnny Deuces at a garage, hanging out with some other Mi Casa members. Walking in, Carlos immediately finds himself the butt of a ‘fro joke. His hair like fro yo! Where’s that hair pick? Trapped in that bird’s nest? bwahahah! Ohhh you’re funny Deuces. And you are so going to be road grease soon. Carlos rolls his eyes, secretly picturing his finger up Johnny’s nostrils, poking his brain with a crack nail and Johnny starts babbling about how he doesn’t like this new Big Hat (McPherson) because that Tony Viet thing was just… harsh, man, harsh. Carlos is like “whatever dude, I just want a Big Mac. I’m having a Mac Attack” but Johnny keeps babbling about McPherson and the gun. And then he asks if Carlos can keep a secret (danger Will Robinson!) and then he begins to tell Carlos the actual whereabouts of the Navy Colt he ganked from Lucy’s bedroom. Hmm. Somehow methinks that wasn’t so smrt.
Carlos then hops on his Nextel and goes “ring ring!” to Big Hat (Big Fat) McPherson to give him the scoop on Deuces and the gun. Carlos interrupts a meeting between Kerry Tucker and McPherson under the bridge (I wonder if the Red Hot Chili Peppers were there). Carlos gives McPherson the scoop on Deuces’ brother that the pawn ticket went to and McPherson sends Kerry off on an errand to collect the ticket and then the gun from the pawn shop instead of telling Kerry about his family history, which is apparently colorful and tightly linked to the Navy Colt.
Once Kerry trots off, McPherson goes back home to type away in his journal about Kerry being a Sullivan (his mother’s name. Tucker is actually his step-father’s name) and that the Sullivans were always somewhere around the gun throughout history, which Lothar Barbel has obsessively chronicled (this will come in handy for the 1914 Story). Though Kerry thinks that the murder of his step-father brought McPherson to his door, it was really the gun.
Meanwhile, Kerry’s staring at the address for Deuces’ brother (a Pedro Suarez), which has a strangely familiar address attached to it - Corazon’s. He rushes over to Corazon’s, where he gets Corazon to admit that her name used to be Pedro, that Deuces is her brother, and that yes, she has the pawn ticket. Kerry flips out and tells her to go and stay with friends or something (awww, see? he does like her. it. Yeah. And stuff) because the cop that wants the gun will most certainly kill her for it (or just because she knows about it). Corazon agrees, gives Kerry the ticket and asks that he watch out for her brother and try to keep him from getting killed. Kerry, lovestruck, agrees and frolics out into the wild.
Kerry rings up Don and informs him that he’s got the gun in his possession. Don nearly wets himself with joy and bounces up and down and tells Kerry to bring it over right now because he totally wants to roll around naked in bed with the gun and fulfill his many years of dreams and fantasies.
Kerry pauses while he pulls out his Grandma’s old Bible and thinks about how his family tree had no room for he and his sisters (This will also come in handy for the 1914 story). Those damn O’Gradys.
And then Kerry runs off into the Sunset to give Don a gun and see about saving a brotha. However, when Kerry arrives at McPherson Death Park, Don looks at the gun and says “Dude, what are you dumb? This isn’t the 1851 Navy Colt owned by Jeb Stuart that I wanted. This is some steel replica of a 1860 ARMY Colt. GOD YOUR DUM!”
Kerry’s like, “What- EVAR. This is the gun that the pawn shop dude gave me. Check the stickers and the receipt. Gawd YOU ARE SO UGLY!”
McPherson pauses to check that out, and yes, indeed the numbers match. “Damn. It must be that Deuces guy pulling a fast one! Thank goodness I have Carlos out back watching over him in the shed!” So Fatty McFartsalot waddles his way out to the shed where he scares the dookies out of Johnny and tries to get him to confess that he still has the gun and that the one he took to the pawn shop was a fake.
Johnny’s like, “No way dude! That gun isn’t the one I took in! Swear on a Girl Scout!”
McPherson’s like “damn. This so totally sucks,” and sends Kerry off to search the pawn shop for the gun (Obviously the owner of the shop was trying to pull a fast one. Too bad we know Clay has it. Next week should be interesting…) and has Carlos rid them of the annoyance that is Johnny.
Awww. Bang bang he’s dead. 
Sorry Corazon.