Chapter Seven: Bombshell
"Ok, Pizzazz, what's goin' on?"
Jetta lounged in the doorway of her friend's bedroom, a questioning
look on her face. "It's bloody new year an' you're 'oled up 'ere like
some blinkin' 'ermit instead of joinin' in the party! What's the deal?"
"What deal?" Pizzazz raised her gaze from where she was curled up on
her bed, flicking through a magazine with little interest. "There is no
'deal', Jetta, and what I do is none of your business! I don't have to
do anything I don't want to do, you know!"
"Quit it with the brat routine. You know that don't work on me." Jetta
said bluntly, coming to sit down in the chair opposite the bed. "You
ain't never missed a chance at a party since I've known you! Please
tell me you ain't missin' that Raymond creep now 'e's gone off to
A dark scowl came over Pizzazz's features.
"Don't talk about him." She snapped. "Not now and not ever. He's a
lousy no good creep and if I ever set eyes on him again then I swear to
God I'll rip his throat out!"
Jetta raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to make a wry remark, when
she registered what her housemate was wearing and her expression became
one of incredulous amazement.
"What in 'ell are you wearin'?!" She exclaimed.
Pizzazz glanced down,
"Dressing gown." She said defiantly. "Pyjamas. So? I'm tired, all
I've been busy!"
"You weren't wearin' that at the start of the party!" Jetta looked
confused. "What the hell are you doing? Throwin' a sleepover?"
I've been trying to save the Misfits' ass, that's what I've been
doing." Pizzazz shot back. "I've spent most of the last few weeks
making sure we got our damn number one and you damn well know it,
too! Plus I've been suing the ass off that Raymond creep for every cent
owns! I'm tired!"
"We're all tired, Pizzazz." Jetta said evenly. "We've all been doin'
our bit at Misfit Music. 'Ell, even Roxy's 'ad a stab at makin' 'erself
useful since Eric left. But things are okay with us now. Sure, the
friggin' company is givin' me a migraine, but you've more than made it
clear that's my problem an' not yours. You're not ill any more,
your chest is fine an' you were singin' up a treat when we did that
string of shows in October an' November. It's not like we've been out
of action for years. The Misfits are buzzin' again an' our song is
already a huge hit.
We got plenty to celebrate, an'
you want to go to bed? When we barely get a decent night off to party
as it is any more?"
"Phyllis Gabor refuses a drink and a chance to fraternise with a bunch
of young, available executives from Washington DC?"
"I don't want anything to do with them!" Pizzazz grabbed her pillow,
slamming it down on the bed in her anger. "I don't want anything to do
with any man ever, you hear me? Get them out of my house!"
"Steady on!" Jetta looked startled. "What in bloody 'ell is goin' on?
You sound like you're bloody possessed or somethin'! Don't tell me you
were actually in love with Eric or somethin'?"
Pizzazz's eyes narrowed.
"I have never been in love." She muttered, an almost bitter
to her tone. "I leave that to wimps like you and Stormer."
Jetta flinched slightly at this, her gaze narrowing.
"Okay, so what is it, then?" She demanded. "What 'appened between you
two, then, that's turned
into the biggest drag this side of Cuba?"
"Nothing happened. He was my employee, he screwed over the company. He
had to go." Pizzazz spoke in a flat monotone.
Jetta shook her head, letting out a groan of impatience.
"Quit sayin' that, when we all know it ain't bleedin' true." She
retorted. "Pizzazz, we know you slept with 'im an' we know there was
somethin' goin' down between you. I don't know why it 'appened and I'm
damn glad you returned to your senses about 'im now, but there ain't no
point in denyin' it, at
least, not to us."
"Nothing to deny."
"Pizzazz, we know." Jetta responded.
Pizzazz opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it. She
sighed, retrieving her pillow from the far end of the bed and
stretching out on
her front, resting her chin in her hands.
"So what if it did?"
"Well, apart from the fact he's America's biggest creep next to Rory
Llewelyn, I wouldn't normally give a damn." Jetta replied. "It's your
business, like Justin is mine. What bothers me is that since the court
ruled in favour
of us, you've been, well, some total other bird, to be honest. You
bein' Pizzazz at the moment. You're bein' damn Phyllis!"
"Don't you ever call me that again!" Pizzazz flared up. "I'm Phyllis to
noone except my father, and don't you forget it! I..."
She stopped dead, the colour draining from her face as she did so.
Sharp eyed Jetta was quick to pick up on it.
Pizzazz took a deep breath.
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"Why can't you just leave me alone, I'm fine, damn you, and...ah!"
She grimaced, putting a hand to her stomach. Now Jetta's impatience was
becoming anxiety and she got to her feet.
"I'm goin' to get someone." She said. Pizzazz was alert in a second,
grabbing out for Jetta's arm and pulling her back down.
"No you're not. It's fine. I'm okay." She said quietly. "Stay. It's
gone away now."
The tone was so unfamiliar, so totally lacking in confrontation and
petulance that Jetta did as she was bidden, staring at her friend for a
moment in confused silence. Then,
"Well, are you gonna elaborate?" She demanded. "I think I deserve an
explanation, don't you?"
"You deserve a slap in the mouth for being so nosy." Pizzazz snapped
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay." Pizzazz nodded. "It's just...just cramp, that's all.
Leave it, Jetta. It's nothing you need worry yourself about. It's my
"If it affects the Misfits, it's all of our business."
"Who said it will?"
"It already has." Jetta replied. "Pizzazz, look. If you're sick or
"Im not sick." Pizzazz shook her head. She bit her lip, then,
"Close the door." she ordered. "If I tell you this, you're on your
honour on pain of death not to tell a living soul, so long as you're
still breathing! You understand me? Noone!"
"Okay, okay, chill." Jetta nodded, getting to her feet and closing the
door. "Right, it's closed."
"I swear, all right?" Jetta spread her hands, looking frustrated.
"What, do you want it written in blood or something?"
"Shut it with the smart remarks. I need your help!" Pizzazz snapped,
then she blushed slightly, lowering her gaze as Jetta stared at her,
not believing what the singer had just said.
"You...need...my help?" she repeated at length.
"Oh, dammit, do you have to make a meal out of everything?" Pizzazz
demanded. "Yes, already, I need your help. Okay? Satisfied?"
"Is this the same kind of help that roped me into running a music
company without any bleedin' qualifications?"
"Jetta, this isn't a game." Pizzazz's tone became serious, and Jetta
thought she could hear a note of helplessness somewhere in her friend's
words. "This is something bad."
"Bad? What kind of bad?" Jetta asked suspiciously. "As in Roxy's eaten
all the cornflakes bad? Or as in your accident bad?"
"Worse." Pizzazz whispered.
"Worse than your accident?" Jetta frowned. "There is a worse? For the
Misfits...being out of action that long like we were and then the
battle over the music company's survival...you're saying this is
something worse than all that?"
Mutely Pizzazz nodded her head.
"What in hell could be worse?"
"Jetta, I'm pregnant."
For an instant, Jetta could do little more than stare at her companion,
her expression a mixture of shock, horror and disbelief. Despite
"I said it was worse." She said morosely. "You believe me now?"
Jetta cursed, then,
"You're not bleedin' serious!"
"I wish I weren't."
"Shit!" Jetta fell speechless again, then, "Why? How? Dammit, what were
you doing?" Her eyes widened. "Oh God, no...bloody hell, Pizzazz,
Pizzazz nodded slightly.
"I told you." She murmured. "It's worse than anything else that's gone
"I didn't do it on purpose!" Pizzazz flared up at this. "Do you think I
was happy when it occured to me something wasn't right? That I was
funny and not getting my period? Do you think I laughed when the test
I swiped from that stupid housemaid of mine came up positive? I don't
damn well think so!"
"All right, calm down, before you give yourself a blinkin'
Jetta snapped. "How long 'ave you known?"
"A week or two. Not much more."
"Why didn't you say something then?"
"Because, dumbo, I was going to get rid of it. None of you would have
needed to know."
"So why didn't you?"
"Because Daddy and his people are still in LA, and the press are
everywhere." Pizzazz groaned, burying her head in the pillow. "If they
see me going into a clinic or get wind of what in hell is going on,
what do you think Daddy will make of it? Hell, Jetta, he'll cut me off
if he finds out what I've done!"
Jetta cursed again, realising the truth in her friend's words.
"Then what does that leave us with?"
"Nothing." Pizzazz replied darkly. "Except to wait."
"Wait? You mean hang on for nine bleedin' months? You cracked? You
think noone will notice?" Jetta exclaimed.
"Shut up, will you! There are people downstairs!" Pizzazz snapped. "I
don't want the world to know!"
"Well, you're not thinking straight. Dammit, do you want this baby?"
"God no. Of course not!" Pizzazz answered scornfully. "What do you
think I am? A Hologram? Of course I don't want it!"
"Then why in hell are you willing to give up nine months of your life
"I don't have a choice!"
"And what if people ask questions later? It's not gonna stay hidden
forever, you know! And what about when it's born, what then?"
"I don't know, all right?" Pizzazz buried her head in her hands.
"I...haven't thought it all through yet. That's why...why i needed your
help. You're...well...more devious than me."
This frank admission knocked the wind from Jetta's sails yet again, and
she frowned, contemplating.
"What do you want me to say?" She asked finally.
"You're not dumb, you know how bad this could be if it got out."
Pizzazz responded quietly. "You have to help me make sure noone does
find out...ever. You got me? Not ever."
"Pizzazz, I can't see 'ow you're going to hide a newborn baby from the
press, let alone nine months of hormones." Jetta shook her head
"Well, I ain't gonna keep the brat, what does it matter?" She demanded.
A tiny light dawned in Jetta's grey eyes.
"I suppose." She said slowly, "That noone would ask many questions, if
they thought that the baby had been abandoned here..."
"Go on." Pizzazz looked a little more interested. "Explain."
"Well, if we were to, say, call the Starlight Foundation, tell them a
baby had been left here on the step overnight." Jetta's mind was
now. "Who'd ever know any different?"
"What if it's a boy?"
"Well, Jerrica and her lot are so soft-'earted they ain't gonna leave a
baby abandoned like that, are they?" Jetta reasoned. "They'd take the
boy or girl, an' well, then it's their problem, ain't it? Not ours.
done our duty...it's over with then."
"I like it." Pizzazz admitted slowly. "You have your uses, Jetta."
"I wish though that you'd just get rid of it." Jetta admitted. "In the
long run it's a lot less hassle. And I don't see how it will be easier
to keep from Harvey if you go ahead with it than if you get rid. It's
not like it won't be bleedin' obvious in a few months. You're thin as a
rake. People will talk."
"I know, but I need time to think." Pizzazz glanced at her nails. "Time
I don't exactly have, but right now I don't see what else to do.
Obviously I'm going to have to...well...think of something. Or you are?"
She eyed her bandmate hopefully.
"You could just see sense and go with the first option. Get rid of it
and damn the press."
"Not with Daddy in town." Pizzazz shook her head. "Listen, Jetta, when
I was sixteen I messed up. I slept with this guy - he was a college
freshman - and I was late. Daddy happened to come home from a business
trip the same night I took a test to see if I was. I wasn't, but it
hardly mattered. When
he found out he went mental at me for...I dunno, being irresponsible or
sleeping around or something. He said then and there that if he ever
found out I'd done it again he'd cut me off and that would be that. He said
it. I can't take the risk! Without Daddy's money all our careers are
down the tubes, don't
you understand? We don't have any choice."
"You were sixteen, Pizzazz! That was ten years ago! You're bloody grown
"Not in Daddy's eyes." Pizzazz said bitterly. "I still belong to him.
I'm still his little girl. You wouldn't get it. It's just how it is."
"I wish you'd learnt to be more careful." Jetta
muttered. "The amount of guys you take off with, I kinda figured you
knew how contraception works by now. What went wrong? Did you just
forget? Because it's a bloody big oversight to make, considerin' the
"Shut up." Pizzazz snapped. "Are you gonna help me or not?"
"I guess I'm helping." Jetta sighed. "But look, you're gonna 'ave to
tell Stormer an' Roxy...you ain't got a choice. I mean, we might shield
you from the press, but they live with you, an' they'll see. Stormer
will at least."
"I guess so." Pizzazz acknowledged with a tired sigh. "You tell them,
huh? I'm knackered...I'm going to bed and to sleep. If you want the
past three nights I haven't slept for sickness, and, well, I finally
all right so I'm taking advantage of it while I can. Get out, will you?
boot out the party. I want some quiet."
Jetta sighed, rolling her eyes. She got to her feet, heading to the
"We'll do our best to 'ide it, for the Misfits' sake." She said
"You damn well better remember it an' all."
She paused in the doorway, watching as Pizzazz took off her dressing
gown, dumping it on the floor and sliding into bed. Her nights of
sickness had taken their toll, and soon she was well away in a deep,
dreamless sleep. Once sure the singer was lost to the world, Jetta
withdrew from the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her as she
ran over the encounter again in her head.
She muttered a string of curses, hurrying down the main staircase
towards the front room. As she reached the bottom, she realised that
the party was already beginning to wind down and she perched herself on
the windowsill, taking a glass of wine and sipping it slowly.
"Where did you go?" Justin asked her, casting her a grin as he came to
sit beside her. "I missed you."
"Up to speak to Pizzazz." Jetta sighed, finishing her drink and setting
the glass aside. "Turns out she was above stairs after all. I went to
see if she was coming down or not."
"I'm guessing the answer was 'not'?" Justin raised an eyebrow. "Is she
"Define okay." Jetta said darkly. Justin looked confused, and at the
sight of his expression, Jetta sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"No, she's fine. Or she will be." She said at length. "She seems to
have mixed with something that disagreed with her and she's feeling a
bit sorry for herself. I left her to wallow. Her own stupid fault if
she feels sick."
"The way she mixes drinks at these shindigs, I'm not surprised she's
seeing double." Justin said ruefully. "She'll be a nightmare in the
"Oh, tell me about it." Jetta chewed on her lip, glancing up at the
clock over the mantlepiece. "It's almost half past. I'd ask you to stop
'ere, but we both know that that's a major league taboo an' we got a
lot of cleanin' up to do now most people 'ave cleared out."
"I know, and it's all right." Justin assured her, kissing her softly on
her forehead, then getting to his feet. "I should be heading off
anyway. Happy New Year, Jetta. And good luck with the patient tomorrow
Jetta rolled her eyes, raising her hand in a wave as her boyfriend
crossed the floor, saying a brief word or two to his sister, then
following the remainder of the party guests out to waiting taxis.
Once sure they were alone, Jetta grabbed both Roxy and Stormer by
the arm, pulling them into the lounge and paying no attention to Roxy's
or Stormer's confusion.
"I need to talk to you." She said finally, once they had arrived at
their destination. "We 'ave a problem."
"Yes, you." Roxy muttered.
"No, stupid. A big problem. A real problem." Jetta snapped,
"What is it, Jetta?" Stormer asked, her tone concerned. "Did something
happen at the party we didn't see?"
"No...something 'appened upstairs." Jetta said darkly. "I went up to
see why Pizzazz weren't joinin' us. I wish I 'adn't bleedin' well
She rubbed her temples. "This ain't somethin' I want to 'ave to deal
now or ever."
"What's the story?" Roxy asked.
Slowly Jetta explained, and silence fell as her two stunned housemates
struggled to come to terms with what their third was saying.
It was Roxy who spoke first.
"Is she mad?" She exclaimed.
"Apparently." Jetta pulled a face. "Look, maybe you can talk better
sense into 'er. I sure as 'ell ain't 'ad much luck at it. She's
insistant that this
is the only way to go but I think she's talkin' nonsense."
"Poor Pizzazz." Stormer spoke softly. "She must be terrified."
"She's not scared, she's insane." She returned. "Look, she can't have
this baby - what are we supposed to do? Turn midwives? Play doctor?
Hell, doesn't she realise what she's gonna wind up sticking on us to do
if she goes all nine months of this?"
"Roxy, it's Pizzazz's decision. It's her body." Stormer chided. "Maybe
she wants different things from you."
"No, she don't want it." Jetta shook her head. "If that's what you're
thinkin', Stormer. She ain't thinkin' of playing Mama or nothin'. But
we still got the
problem. She don't want 'er father to find out - apparently it could
us all in 'ot water financially if 'e did, particularly considerin' the
"Eric?" Roxy raised an eyebrow. Jetta nodded grimly.
"Does she love him?" Stormer wondered. Jetta rolled her eyes.
"Don't be soft, Stormer. She 'ates 'im. She wants to rip 'is bleedin'
throat out." She replied. "She ain't in love or nothin' stupid. She's
just been careless
an' gotten 'erself knocked up, that's all. An' now we 'ave to 'elp 'er
with the consequences of it, else it could be the worse for the
"Men suck." Roxy decided, banging her glass down on the table as she
did so to emphasise her point. "Eric especially. So what are we
expected to do? How are we gonna keep this a secret, huh? I mean, it's
not like it's gonna be hard to spot!"
"We just have to do our best." Stormer looked thoughtful. "And rally
I mean, we've always made a thing of the fact we take care of our own.
just have to do so. Whatever it takes."
"Well, you can bloody well deliver it then. I'm goin' down the pub that
Jetta said shortly.
"She'll change her mind." Roxy decided. "At least, we'll do our best to
well make her - right girls?"
"Roxy, you can't make her do anything." Stormer protested.
"Listen, Stormer, it's not in her interests to do this. Or ours." Roxy
"She's already enough of a pain to live with - can you imagine her on
for the next nine months? Plus she's not exactly gonna be
hell, what if we can't keep it down?"
"For once I'm with Roxy." Jetta said darkly. "I know we can't force her
do anything, Stormer...but we gotta make 'er see 'ow mad she's being."
"Well, okay." Stormer said slowly. "But listen, you guys. If she's dead
on going through with this, whatever her reasoning - we have to be
her, and protect her all we can."
"Whatever happens, we stick together." Roxy agreed grimly. "But damn
I hope she sees sense."
"She's dog tired at the moment. Maybe it's lack of sleep talking."
observed. "At least, I hope so." She sighed. "Look, I don't know about
girls but I'm gonna 'ead to bed meself. God knows I'm gonna need some
if we gotta deal with this situation tomorrow!"
Part Four: Desperate Times
Chapter One: Recovery
Chapter Two: Harvey
Chapter Three: A Disturbing Realisation
Chapter Four: Shock
Chapter Five: Complications
Chapter Six: New Year's Eve
Chapter Seven: Bombshell
The Boring Disclaimer:
Pizzazz is not my character - she and the Misfits
were created by Hasbro and given life by Christy Marx and the writers
of the Jem series. However, the events, concepts and plotline contained
in this story is my own and may not be duplicated. Justin, Alan and
any character not featured in the Jem cartoon are entirely my creation
and are also not to be duplicated anywhere else.