Chapter Five: Answering to Eric

Roxy set the phone receiver back in its cradle, a frown on her face.
"Great." She said out loud. "Just brilliant!"
"Now what are you bleatin' about?" Jetta glanced up from her magazine. "I assume that was Stormer?"
"Well, aren't you the clever one." Roxy snapped back. "Yeah, it was."
"What did she say?"
"What, you mean you don't know everything already?" Roxy returned. Jetta scowled.
"Quit it, Roxy. What did she say?"
"That she thought they'd definitely still be in DC over the weekend." Roxy relented, dropping down into an empty seat with a sigh. "Which is brilliant. More days stuck here with noone but you for company."
"The feeling is mutual." Jetta observed dryly. "I don't like spendin' time with you either, fact, I ain't plannin' on it. I'm goin' out tonight."
"Where?" Roxy demanded.
"Anywhere that don't involve you." Jetta snapped. "If I stay round you much longer my IQ will begin droppin' to your level."
"Well, it can't get much worse than it already is." Roxy retorted. "Fine, go out. See if I care. I don't want you here, anyway. Just take your key cos I ain't gonna let you in."
"I'm a big girl now, Roxy. I can take care of meself." Jetta informed her, getting to her feet and depositing the magazine on the table. "Is there any coffee left in the pot?"
"I dunno." Roxy shrugged. "I didn't make it, did I?"
"Hopeless." Jetta rolled her eyes skywards. "And that's the door..." As the doorbell chimed. "Who could that be?"
"Well, open it, duh." Roxy snapped.
"Why not you?" Jetta demanded.
"You're up, you dumb Brit." Roxy retorted.
"Roxy, callin' me a Brit ain't an insult." Jetta said witheringly.
"It is the way I mean it." Roxy returned. "Just get the door, will ya? Or is that too much for you British bluebloods to manage?"
Jetta flinched at this. Since Pizzazz and Stormer had left, she had been forced to face a bevy of blueblood jokes, a cruel reminder to her masquerade as one of the English upper classes when she had first joined the group. Unable to respond with sufficient venom to shut the guitarist up for good, she merely tossed her head, stalking into the hall to open the door.
Eric stood on the doorstep, and she glared at him.
"What?" She demanded.
"Good morning to you too, Jetta." Eric said dryly. "Can I come in? I have some stuff to discuss with you girls about Saturday night."
"Well, it depends, duckie," Jetta lounged in the doorway. "On who you'd be wantin' to see."
"Well, I was under the impression that the Misfits lived here, so would it be too much to assume I came to see them?" Eric replied.
"Yeah, actually, it would." Jetta allowed him in, closing the door behind her. "Roxy an' me are the only ones in."
"Oh?" Eric raised an eyebrow, secretly wondering what brainstorm had caused this setup. "Where are Stormer and Pizzazz."
"DC." Jetta replied succinctly. "Didn't you read the papers?"
"They're in Washington?" Eric looked taken aback.
"Pizzazz went to see her Pa." Jetta nodded, pushing open the door to the lounge and leading the way in. "Stormer reckons they won't be back in time for the concert, so I guess we ain't gonna be playin'."
"What?" Eric's expression became angry. "You girls are under contract, and you have an obligation to play!"
"Don't take it out on us, Eric." Roxy scowled at him. "We're here, ain't we? It's Pizzazz and Stormer who've gone AWOL."
"I read the story about Harvey Gabor, but I didn't think she'd hare off across the country to see him." Eric sighed, sitting down. "Question is, what do we do about getting her back here in time for Saturday's concert?"
"That's your problem, ain't it?" Roxy shrugged. "Not ours. Not out company. Like I said, we're here. You can't yell at us."
"Jetta, you have influence with Pizzazz, don't you?" Eric's mind was clearly working on a solution already. Jetta frowned.
"Don't know as I do, ducks. Pizzazz does what she wants, when she wants." She replied flippantly.
"Jetta's singer's pet." Roxy snorted. "Pizzazz's little puppy dog."
"What about you, trailing round after Stormer an' gettin' 'er to read the lyrics aloud for you?" Jetta snapped back.
"Stop it, the pair of you." Eric held up his hand for quiet. "This is a serious situation, and I need you girls to focus. Do you want to miss the concert?"
"Don't care either way." Jetta shrugged. "No skin off my nose if we play or not."
"Same here." Roxy agreed. Eric groaned.
"Why did I pick a group who seem to be allergic to work!" He exclaimed. "You're gonna turn my hair grey between you!" He turned his attention back to the sax player. "Listen, Jetta, I want you to call Pizzazz and get her to come home, whatever it takes. Stormer will do as Pizzazz tells her, after all."
"Don't tell me what to do, creep." Jetta bristled. "I ain't your slave, an' I don't take orders from noone!"
"Except Pizzazz." Roxy put in snidely. Jetta poked out her tongue at her rival.
"This is your career as much as anything else!" Eric exclaimed. "If you girls don't play on Saturday night you might as well never play again! The Misfits are beginning to fade away - don't you care?"
"Well, we all know you don't." Roxy said bluntly. "You spend all your time with Riot and his witches...if you care so much about us, then you should spend more time promoting us, shouldn't you?"
"Much as I 'ate to say it, Roxy's right." Jetta nodded. "Look, Eric. Pizzazz is 'er own person, an' she'll come 'ome when she wants to, not when we tell 'er to. You got a problem, go to DC yourself an' talk to her."
"Talk to her?" Eric frowned for a moment. Then a slow smile crossed his face.
"You know, that's quite an idea." He mused. "But not I can think of someone much better for the job - I'm sure she'll be home in no time."
"What you plannin, yank?" Jetta demanded suspiciously.
"Nothing." Eric told her smoothly. "I'm going back to my office to make a couple of calls, that's all."
"Who's going to go to DC?" Roxy asked.
"Use your brains." Eric told her. "I'll see you ladies later...I've things to do."
With that he was gone, letting himself out, and leaving the two Misfits to exchange looks.
"What was that about?" Roxy wondered. Jetta shrugged.
"Beats me." She admitted. Then, "'Ere, 'ang on a minute...I got a nasty feelin' I know what Eric's plannin'. We might 'ave to work Saturday night after all, with Pizzazz in no sweet mood to boot."
"What do you mean?" Roxy demanded.
"I think," Jetta said slowly, "That Eric's sending Riot to DC. And you know what Pizzazz is like around Riot...the girl don't stand a chance."
Roxy let out a heavy sigh.
"Just when I thought we had a free vacation." She said sadly. "Damn Eric. Why did he have to interfere, anyway?"
"Guess we'll see what 'appens, but I'd be very surprised if Pizzazz says no to Riot." Jetta grimaced. "And that means the Misfits will be playin' Saturday's concert, whether 'Arvey is dead or alive."

Chapter One: The Magazine
Chapter Two: A Phone Call
Chapter Three: Washington DC
Chapter Four: Harvey Gabor
Chapter Five: Answering To Eric
Chapter Six: Breaking Down
Chapter Seven: Riot
Chapter Eight: A Change Of Luck
Chapter Nine: Harvey's Proposal
Chapter Ten: A Cunning Plan
Chapter Eleven: As It Should Be

(The Misfits and Holograms and other animated Jem characters 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 (2001)