A Misfit Should Be...
Chapter One: The Fight
“This song totally sucks.”
Phyllis Gabor, better known to the world as the
fast-moving, sharp-mouthed Pizzazz, lead singer of rock band the
tossed her guitar down on the floor of the recording studio with
putting her hands on her hips and wheeling on her curly-headed
“Stormer, where did you come up with this rubbish? It stinks! It has no
beat! It…It’s worse than something even Jem and the wretched singalongs
would come out with!”
Stormer, otherwise known as Mary Phillips, the
musical brain behind the Misfits’ high-paced music sighed, sliding her
synthesiser off her shoulder and casting Pizzazz a resigned look. This
was the third song her band-mate had rejected this week, and if she was
totally honest with herself she was a bit fed up with it. After all,
told herself crossly, it wasn’t as if music materialised out of thin
She took time and energy to compose, letting the music flow through her
mind as she scribbled down the words on the piece of paper, and yes,
was proud of the number of hits she had masterminded. To have her work
belittled in this way was more than a little bit galling.
But then, Stormer was big-hearted, and she knew
she would never say such things out loud. For a start, Pizzazz was
when in a rage. The spoiled only daughter of a business tycoon,
mother had left when she had been only a tot, and it had made an
mark on that girl’s personality. She didn’t – wouldn’t let herself –
anyone. It had taken Stormer the whole time that the band had been
to even discover this much about her colleague, and even then most of
she knew had not come from Pizzazz herself, but from a friend of her’s,
Kimber Benton, the keyboardist and songwriter from the Misfit’s chief
band, Jem and the Holograms.
Pizzazz hated Jem, that was beyond dispute.
didn’t know who this ‘Jem’ really was, but she certainly had an aura.
could sing, and she appealed to people – most significantly she
to Riot, the blond-haired, arrogant lead singer of another band, the
who had hit the west coast of America some months earlier.
Pizzazz had fallen in love with Riot the moment
they had met. It had been strange, Stormer mused, the roller coaster of
events that had occurred since that day. For a while the singer had
off her band, shrugged off everything that had always been important to
her in a vain attempt to get his attention – and then he had fallen for
Jem. Pizzazz had reacted in the way she always reacted to things –
and threats and angry rages – but Stormer knew she was hurting.
She bit back her own frustration at the
They would work it out, so long as she could keep her patience. Someone
had to stay sane…especially in such a madcap environment as a Misfit
session. They had an album due in less than a month – somehow Stormer
a feeling that the deadline would be fudged once again.
“What are you whining about now, yank?” Sheila
(known to all Misfit fans as ‘Jetta’ due to her wild black hair), the
born saxophonist who had joined the band in a wild publicity stunt but
whom had fitted right in with the others both musically and mentally
casting Pizzazz a dark look. “I’d just got that sax solo straight, and
you ‘ave to screech your ‘orrible voice right across it!”
Well, that was Jetta. Stormer hid a smile. She
a certain amount of admiration for the way the young Briton could stand
up to Pizzazz, even when that girl was in the foulest of moods. No
what the situation, Jetta was very rarely put off from making her
She had a good deal of intelligence, that was clear from the start, but
most of it she had indulged in manipulation and trickery. Her one
contribution to the world was the music of her saxophone, which she
had a talent for. Not that Jetta had no heart or no feelings. Stormer
made the mistake of thinking that way when the Brit had first joined
band. She was just very clever at hiding them away. Her background was
working-class and lacking in both love and support – her entrance to
United States had been un-approved and as yet she had no work permit, a
fact which Pizzazz liked to bring up every so often to keep the sax
under thumb. Jetta was deeply ashamed of her real roots, and often
to project a fantasy of being a friend of the British upper classes,
everything had come out in a rush when the group had paid a visit to
Jetta had not mentioned the trip since, and Stormer had used the little
influence she had in the band to prevent anyone else from mentioning it
It had been an incident at Heathrow airport
had made Stormer realise Jetta’s shrewd, snappy attitude was not the
side to her. Stormer herself had spent much of the visit to Britain
her brother Craig and his band, so she had missed a lot of the
but Pizzazz had been keen to fill her band-mate in on all that had gone
on. Jetta had borne all of Pizzazz’ teasing in stony silence, but once
the singer and the other member of the band, Roxanne Pelligrini had
off to buy jewelry from the duty free stores things had all changed.
Jetta had cried.
It had come as a real shock to Stormer that
as collected as Jetta could have so much resentment inside of her. Her
parents, impoverished and grasping people, had no time for their wild
Her elder brother, in prison and never spoken of had been her idol when
she had been growing up, but now she wasn’t even allowed to speak his
And then there was her desire to be someone – the desire which
driven her to earn the money for her saxophone by a number of odd jobs
and to hitch and hide her way to the United States – which had finally
come true when she had joined the Misfits. And there, in the Departure
lounge of Heathrow airport, hidden from the view of the reporters who
busy flocking round Roxy and Pizzazz, Stormer had hugged her companion
tightly, and promised her that she would never breathe a word to anyone
about all she had learnt.
Since then Jetta had never had a cold word for
and Stormer had understood the sax player more and feared her less. Not
that Jetta had softened her composed attitude to the world, but now
understood everything and it no longer seemed so hard-hearted. In fact,
she now felt she could ask Jetta’s opinion on the sax lines she wrote,
for the saxophone was an instrument Stormer knew little about.
the music of the band carried a stronger, more convincing sound, and
had scored a couple of great hits since.
Pizzazz reached for her guitar, raising it and
it in Jetta’s direction. She would probably smash it in a minute,
mused. Pizzazz tended to go through at least one guitar per week, and
father would always foot the bill for a new one. Not like Jetta and her
sax…the beautiful ebony instrument which she had so carefully saved up
for was generally treated with the utmost care – except when she lost
temper and started wielding it at the audience, of course.
“My father could have you deported.” The
snapped now, jabbing Jetta squarely in the chest with the head of the
“Don’t forget that, huh? You don’t have your visa or your permit yet.”
“It’s a good thing for you that I need one.”
retorted calmly. “Else this band could function perfectly well without
you and your silly whining. You ain’t the only one who can sing, you
You are replaceable.”
Pizzazz let out a patent scream of rage.
“You think you can come in and take over my
band?” she demanded.
Jetta raised a perfectly fashioned eyebrow.
“It’s your band now?” she asked, her tone
laced with sarcasm. “Did Daddy buy it for you?”
“At least my Dad can afford to buy me stuff.”
seethed back. “At least I didn’t crawl out of some British dumpster and
hitchhike my way up the charts.”
Oh-oh. Time to take cover. Stormer winced,
slowly away from the two girls and taking refuge behind the big
Roxy settled herself in a nearby chair to watch the exchange with
Though Jetta was not afraid to stand up to Pizzazz, she rarely let
be dragged into a dispute with the lead singer, knowing all too well
in the Misfits Pizzazz was most definitely in charge. She had learnt
quickly that to keep Pizzazz happy was to keep the band happy, and had
been careful to adapt her attitude accordingly, but sometimes there was
just no stopping her temper.
“Who do you bet’ll win this one?” Roxy murmured
to Stormer, setting her own guitar down.
Stormer rolled her eyes.
“Roxy, aren’t you gonna try and break it up?”
asked, knowing the answer before she even spoke. Roxy was a high-school
dropout, with limited academic skill and a frustrated temper to match
– this kind of distraction suited her short attention span and meant it
would be another day or two before they could begin to cut the new
a delay the platinum blond relished, since it meant she had an extra
of days to fix all the lyrics in her head. Roxy could not read, though
she had so far carefully concealed this fact from the press, and in
to memories the song words she was reliant on Stormer recording them
cassette for her to play over to herself. Because of earlier tantrums
the volatile lead singer Stormer had not yet recorded the cassette –
Roxy had no wish to be made to look stupid. It had been bad enough when
Pizzazz and Jetta had discovered her deeply hidden secret – she was not
ready to tell the world. Stormer half suspected that people outside the
band did know more than Roxy naively believed – Jem and the Holograms
supported a campaign to stamp out illiteracy and Roxy had gotten
hopelessly entangled in the whole affair – but if Roxy wanted to
her secret was safe, then that was up to her. Stormer was not in the
of bursting people’s bubbles.
She had once been naïve herself – well, in
many ways she knew she still was. However, her venture into solo music
with Kimber had wised her up to things fast, and her natural
had been allowed to blossom. She and Kimber were still friendly, though
with the strong rivalry between the bands it made meeting up difficult.
The main rivalry, of course, lay between Pizzazz and Jem, but Stormer
when not to cross Pizzazz, and Kimber seemed very fond of Jem.
Roxy shrugged her shoulders carelessly now,
“Nah.” She replied. “Why should I? Beats
I’m bored with this song already, anyway. We’ve done it over like a
times already. If that dumb Jetta could get her stupid saxophone to
the right notes we’d be done by now – I wanna go lounge by the pool and
“Maybe I made it too difficult.” Stormer sighed.
“But she’s got it now, Roxy. Please don't make things worse...don't
with Jetta today!.”
“You know what?” Roxy eyed her companion with
thoughtfulness. “Something happened to you, Stormer. You never used to
talk back like this.”
Stormer shrugged, blushing slightly.
“Craig told me to believe in myself.” She
softly. “So I am.”
“Craig.” Roxy pulled a face. “What a loser. Boy
am I glad I don’t have a brother. As if it ain’t bad enough
he’s dating a Hologram.”
Stormer didn’t answer. The fact that Craig had
up with Aja Leith of the Holograms upon his recent return to America
concerned her, also. Not that she begrudged him his happiness, but she
was afraid that it could cause trouble between the two bands. The last
thing she needed was more rivalry.
She glanced across the studio. Jetta had not
Pizzazz’ remarks well. Stormer knew it had hit that raw nerve, and now
the British girl’s temper was firing on all cylinders. Absently she
if it would be safer to leave them to it. There were a lot of bits and
pieces to throw around in a recording studio and she had no mind to get
herself a black eye.
“Not good enough for you, am I?” Jetta demanded
now, hands on hips, her London tones cutting through Stormer’s
“Well, maybe I don’t want to stay ‘ere either, Pizzazz. Maybe I should
go find a band who aren’t just a joke of a shadow behind Jem and her
Pizzazz uttered another enraged shriek, reaching
for the nearest thing - her microphone - and tossing it in Jetta's
Fortunately for the British girl, Pizzazz's aim was none too good when
the singer was in a temper, and the microphone glanced harmlessly off
door of the studio..
“Get out then!” she exclaimed. “We don’t need
and your stupid sax, anyway.”
Now Stormer knew she had to intervene.
“Stop it, both of you!” she begged. “Pizzazz, we
do need Jetta, and Jetta…don’t go. We can work it out – the song
“Shut up, Stormer.” Pizzazz snapped, and the
in her eye carried a direct threat. Despite herself, Stormer bit her
She’d spoken out of turn.
Jetta just shrugged her shoulders.
“Don’t you fuss about me, Stormer.” She said
“I don’t take insults from people whose idea of life is the size of the
bill she sends Daddy. See ya.”
And, saxophone over her shoulder, the
girl stalked out of the practice room.
Roxy let out a low whistle.
“Think she’ll come back?” she demanded, and
could tell that she was half hopeful they would never lay eyes on the
“Who cares?” Pizzazz shrugged. “We don’t need
anyway. We were a great band before she came. Come on, let’s do
else, I’m bored.”
“But Pizzazz…it took me ages to do that sax
Stormer sighed, sinking down into a chair. “And you’ve hurt Jetta’s
“Hurt?” Pizzazz snorted. “Couldn’t hurt her with
a bulldozer. Stop being so soft, Stormer, you’re a Misfit, or had you
that? Forget the sax solo, huh? The song sounds better without it.” she
narrowed her eyes. “Or would you rather follow her?”
Stormer bit her lip once more. This was Pizzazz
at her most bullying, and she usually buckled to this kind of treatment.
But then the last week had been no picnic, and she could do with
a break. She shrugged her shoulders.
“I think you need a time out.” She said quietly,
putting her synthesiser back in its case and fastening the catch. “We’re
the Misfits, Pizzazz. There are four of us now and…and I won’t
for or play for the group if we’re not all there.”
“Stormer!” Roxy stared at the other girl, her
big with disbelief. “But…you can’t just walk out on us just because
had a fit! Pizzazz is right, we don’t need her!”
“We all need each other.” Stormer refused to
either Pizzazz’s or Roxy’s gaze. “That’s how I feel.”
And with that, she quietly opened the door of the studio, not daring
to look back because she knew that if she did her resolve would go.
had told her just the night before that she had to learn to stand up
what she believed in – and she believed in the group, not Pizzazz and
stupid tantrums. It was a gamble, playing with Pizzazz’ pride, but it
one she felt had to be taken.
“And if it comes to it, well, the Misfits went
with a bang.” She said with a sigh, slinging her case over her shoulder
as she made her way slowly down to her car and stuffing her instrument
boot. “I really hope it doesn’t, though.”
“Did she kick you out, too?”
Stormer turned to see Jetta watching her. She
“I walked out.” She responded. Jetta raised an
“Because there are either four of us or none of
us.” Stormer responded quietly. “Now, I’m going to see if Craig can put
me up in his hotel room tonight, since Mum's old house is shut up and
the furniture is still in storage. Bye, Jetta.”
Jetta stared at Stormer, but made no comment.
she shrugged, and, saxophone in hand, she set off at a walk down the
whistling softly to herself. Not for worlds would she have let anyone
that she had regretted giving in to her temper the moment she had
out of that studio.
“But I’ll be damned if I’ll apologise to that
yank this time over.” She muttered to herself. “I’m not her slave and I
ain’t gonna take that from her just because her Dad has too much dosh
not enough sense!”
Where she would stay that night she wasn’t sure.
The Misfits lived in a mansion owned by Harvey Gabor, Pizzazz’ rich
and Jetta knew she wouldn’t be welcome back there tonight. But then
survived on her own before, and she’d do it again if she had to.
“At least while I work out what to do.” She
“And how to get even with that blighter Pizzazz, too!”
Craig had just returned back to the hotel from an evening jog with
Aja when he caught sight of his sister locking her car, slowly making
way towards the big brick building. He knew his sister well enough to
on sight that something was up, and he frowned. “Mary! Wait up!”
Stormer turned, and relief flooded her face as
registered her brother’s presence.
“Craig!” she exclaimed. “I’m glad you’re here, I
was worried you might not be.” She cast a shy smile at Aja. “Hi, Aja.”
“Hi.” Aja returned the smile. The first time that Craig had tried
to explain to Aja the relationship he and Stormer had the
girl had gotten the wrong end of the stick and had believed they were
and wife, but that was all in the past now. Aja and Stormer had no real
ill feeling for each other, though it could not be said that they were
friends, since the Hologram/Misfit rivalry dominated much of what both
girls did. It was fair to say, though, that none of the Holograms
Stormer with as much dislike as they regarded the other Misfits.
stint at recording with Kimber had meant that they had all seen the
Mary Phillips, and had realised that, Misfit though she might be, she
a lot of heart.
“What’s up, Mary?” Craig asked, linking his arm
in his sister’s. “Did something happen at practice today?”
“Kind of.” Stormer sighed. She glanced at Aja.
you and Aja have a date? Because I’d hate to intrude…”
“We just went jogging.” Aja shrugged her
“That’s all.” She eyed Stormer thoughtfully. “You look depressed.”
“That would be an understatement.” Stormer
again, then outlined all that had gone on.
“So the Misfits are broken up?” Aja stared. "For
“I’m calling it a time-out. I hope that’s all it
is.” She replied. “I know you don’t like the band, Aja, but I don’t
it to break up.”
“I have never understood why you waste your
on those low-lifes.” Craig hugged his sister. “But I am proud of you
making a stand, Mary.”
“Craig, can’t you call me Stormer?” Stormer
“Everyone else does, and anyway...I don't feel much like Mary any more,
to be honest. Stormer is who I am now.”
“I can try, but it’s hard when I’ve called you
for your whole life.” He said wryly.
“Well, so long as you try.” Stormer relented.
Craig, they’re not low-lifes. This might sound weird…but I
“How anyone can like Pizzazz is beyond me.” Aja
frowned. “Or that Jetta…she gives me the creeps.”
“You just don’t know them.” Stormer shrugged.
“True, not that I want to.” She responded. “Hey,
so you’re out of a place to crash, huh?”
“Yeah.” Stormer glanced at her brother
“I almost regret having our old place shut up, but with me at the Gabor
place and Craig in Europe most of the time there didn't seem much point
in paying the bills. I came to see if Craig had a spare patch of floor
at the hotel I could use.”
“Well, you could have my bed and I’ll take the
Craig suggested. Stormer shook her head.
“I couldn’t!” she protested. “It’s your bed!”
“Like I’m going to let you sleep on the floor.”
Craig retorted. “I promised Mom I’d look out for you, Ma…Stormer,
and I mean to keep that promise. You stay with me, and you get the bed.”
“Or she could come to the Starlight Mansion.”
offered. “I know Jerrica would not mind, Stormer. Since you and Kimber
cut that album you’ve always been welcome, so long as your three
aren’t in tow.”
“You think I could?” Stormer looked doubtful. “I
dunno, Aja. I mean, it’s very sweet of you to offer, but I don’t want
cause you any trouble…”
“Come with me.” She instructed. “I’m sure it
be no trouble at all.”
Chapter Two: Starlight
Chapter Three: Jeremy
Chapter Four: The Reward
Chapter Five: Where Is
Chapter Six: At The Concert
Chapter Eight: Kimber's Plan
Chapter Nine: Jetta Of The
Chapter Ten: Conclusion
(The Misfits and Holograms and other animated Jem
are copyrighted to Hasbro Inc. All characters who do not appear in Jem
episodes are my own creation. This story is copyrighted to E.A Woolley