"I want to talk to you."

Jetta blocked the doorway of Pizzazz's bedroom, eying her bandmate with a determined expression on her clever face. "An' urgent, like. It's important."

"Can't it wait? I'm going out tonight." Pizzazz cast her companion a frown, not ceasing in her search for her hairbrush. "I've lost my goddamn brush and I have plans."

"Well, they will 'ave to wait." Jetta crossed the room, scooping the brush up from it's location on a shelf, and holding it out. "'Ere. Stop fussin' around your room an' listen to me, will you?"
 
"Are you giving me orders?" Pizzazz's green eyes glinted angrily and she snatched the brush away, sitting down on her bed to brush her thick wavy hair. "You should know better than that, Jetta."

"You don't scare me. You never 'ave." Jetta said coolly. "An' I ain't goin' nowhere until you 'ear me out, so you better get it over with if you want to go out tonight. I'm bloody serious. This is a big deal."

Pizzazz gave an exclamation of annoyance, but she tossed the brush down on her dresser, fixing her bandmate with a glare.

"Well?" She demanded. "Spit it out! I haven't got all goddamn night!"

"I thought you should see this."

Jetta reached into her pocket, producing a crumpled sheet of paper.

"What is it?" Pizzazz took it, glancing at the numbers without comprehension. Jetta tut-tutted with impatience.

"The secret of the universe. What do you bloody think? Misfits Music's account statement!"

"What are you doing with this?" Pizzazz demanded. "Eric deals with all the money and that side of it, not you! It's nothing to do with you."

"No?" Jetta pursed her lips. "Well, I admit it, We...I did some diggin' about in 'is office while 'e was flyin' to Arnheim this morning. I wanted to find out what was goin' on."

"And why would you do something like that?" Pizzazz's eyes narrowed. "I thought we were Misfits. I didn't think we went trawling through each other's paperwork."

"You don't do paperwork. As you just said, Eric does - and 'e's done all the more since your accident. 'E is developin' the kind of stranglehold 'e used to 'ave when it was Stinger Sound." Jetta replied quietly. "Not that that's my business, but this..." she indicated the paper, "does concern me, at least indirectly. I searched the office on Justin's account."

"Justin? What, he has you snooping through my company's records now?" Pizzazz's expression was one of incredulous anger.  "Ooh! I've warned you about him, Jetta..."

"No, this is a legit complaint." Jetta shook her head. She paused, then, "An' if I tell the truth, it ain't just me who's been investigatin'. Roxy's involved in it too. Apparently Justin ain't been paid for the last round of photos 'e did. He wondered if there was a glitch in the system an' 'e asked Roxy to check it out for 'im, knowin' 'ow you feel about me an' 'im an' 'ow you'd take my interference. But Roxy couldn't make out all of the small print without 'er damn glasses - which, apparently, she broke usin' them to rejig a carburettor, or somethin' - an' she dragged me into it, since Justin's interests are also mine." She frowned. "Also, she thought you might listen to me more than you would to 'er. I'm not sure she was right."

"So Justin ain't been paid - so? He will be...as soon as you tell Eric it's been overlooked." Pizzazz snapped. "There's no need for this cloak and dagger garbage!"

"No?" Jetta raised an eyebrow. "Eric's office is full of correspondance from various companies an' organisations expectin' money for various things. All of which are catalogued on the account printout, but...when Stormer went to the bank to see what she could find out, all the payouts that are supposedly goin' to these people are actually all goin' into one account. Eric's."

"Stormer? Dammit, are you all ganging up here?" Pizzazz demanded, then, "What? Eric's account? What do you mean?"

"I mean, Pizzazz, that 'e's not only skimmin' off the company profits. He's directly usin' 'is power an' influence 'ere to divert payments that should be goin' out to legitimate sources into 'is own pocket, an' you ain't doin' anything to stop 'im. This goes on much longer an' you won't 'ave a damn music company at all!"

Despite herself, Pizzazz blanched, studying the sheet of paper for the first time with any interest. At length she glanced up.

"How does this tell you all that?" She said at length.

"It doesn't." Jetta shook her head. "But we've done more diggin' since. Roxy's been workin' through Justin's account statements an' he is right, Misfit Music ain't paid 'im a cent. Stormer charmed the bank teller into givin' 'er printouts of where the money was goin' and we tracked the account number down to Eric's at payroll. The evidence is all 'ere, you just 'ave to wake up an' take notice, that's all. Unless, of course, you want Misfit Music to fail." She shrugged. "As it stands, the bank balance is fairly unhealthy. Look." She indicated the figure at the bottom of the page with a red-painted nail. "That's everythin' your music company 'as left after 'is little game."

"Two hundred sixty one dollars?" Pizzazz bit her lip. "Dammit, that's it? Everything?"

"Down to the last dime." A fresh voice came from the doorway and both girls glanced up to see Roxy leaning against the doorframe. "And people are starting to get nasty about it, too. Stormer took a call in your office when we were going over accounts this morning and they weren't amused by not bein' paid. Can't blame 'em...if they ain't getting paid, then nor will we be, either."

Pizzazz let out a gusty sigh.

"Fine. I'll deal with it." She said at length. "In the morning! Tonight I have plans, and..."

"I hope they ain't plans with Eric." Roxy interrupted her, her expression unreadable. Pizzazz looked startled.

"Excuse me? Eric's in Arnheim - and why would they be?"

"Oh, cut the crap, Pizzazz. We all know what's been going on. No way he'd try a stunt like this if he didn't think he had you whipped." Roxy said bluntly. Pizzazz bristled.

"Hey, you shut your mouth!"

"Roxy's right." Jetta said quietly. "We don't care what you do when you ain't doin' Misfit business, but doin' our manager when 'e's rippin' off your company is a bit over the top. Besides..." She paused, exchanging a sidelong glance with Roxy, then, "If you 'ad've 'ad plans with 'im tonight, I wouldn't 'old your breath. I doubt he's sleepin' on 'is own in 'is Michigan 'otel. Angry clientele ain't the only calls Eric gets in 'is office."

Pizzazz, who had been about to launch into a tirade at her companion's insinuations stopped dead, her face draining of colour for the second time that evening. Roxy, understanding at once what her bandmate was up to, nodded her head.

"It's true." She said with a shrug. "I've seen them. She's some dumb blond. They were at the Red Rock the other weekend. I almost brought back up my sushi watching them."

"Oh, is that a fact?" Suddenly Pizzazz's expression turned unpleasant. "And how long might this little business have been going on?"

"Do we care?" Jetta spread her hands. "It's gross enough that it is, an' it's about time you quit lettin' 'im take you for a ride, on whatever level. We're the Misfits an' this might be your music company, but we damn well fought with you to get it back from those Stingers. If you don't do somethin' drastic, an' soon, it'll all 'ave been in vain. He will not only 'ave ripped you off an' made a public fool out of you with this bimbo of 'is, but 'e'll also 'ave taken away your music company an' the Misfits' recordin' contracts in one fell swoop. Harvey ain't gonna finance a second company after the mess this one's becoming!"

Pizzazz's expression darkened, then she got to her feet, grabbing her jacket out of the wardrobe and heading towards the door, where she paused, turning.

"Come on." She said quietly.

"Come on? Where are we going?" Roxy looked startled.

"Nobody is taking Misfit Music away from me while there is still breath in my body." Pizzazz muttered. "We're going to the office. You girls are so keen on spending time there, well, you can damn well show me what you've found so I can see for myself what's going on. Then I'm going to speak to Daddy. If everything you say is correct, then Eric will have to go - and I will need Daddy's help to strengthen the company again." She cursed. "He gave me this company to run. I damn well meant to make a success of it, not let some greedy buffoon take it for a ride. I didn't expect to have to go running back to Daddy for help, but if it's that versus bankruptcy, then that's what I'll have to do." She clenched her fists. "It was that damn accident! He took over then...one of you should have stopped him!"

"On what authority?" Jetta asked. "We don't 'ave any. Technically you own the place, but we're just Misfits. Employees. We certainly ain't got corporate clout."

"That hasn't stopped you this time." Pizzazz said grimly.

"What did we have to lose?" Roxy asked quietly. "Kinda figured it didn't matter what we did now, since the company was going in the dumpster."

Pizzazz didn't say anything for a moment, then,

 "Go find Stormer. I want to hear her side of this too. And be quick - we'll take the van."

"She's in her room. I'll be right back." Roxy nodded, withdrawing into the corridor. As the door swung shut behind her, an awkward silence fell.

Jetta met Pizzazz's gaze with a quizzical one of her own.

"Is it too late?" She asked levelly. Pizzazz's brows drew together in a deep frown, and she scrunched up the account statement, tossing it across the office in the direction of the bin. It ricocheted off the rim, tumbling to the floor and she muttered a curse.

"Too late isn't an option." She said softly. "I'm a Gabor. Too late doesn't happen to Gabors. We'll fix it. Now quit yapping and get in the van."

Meanwhile, Roxy had sped along the main hallway and up the stairs to Stormer's bedroom. The door was ajar, and she pushed it open, meeting her friend's startled gaze with a grin.

"Things are afoot." She said, by way of preamble.

"Afoot?" Stormer set aside her manuscript. "What do you mean?"

"Jetta told Pizzazz about the stuff we found." Roxy smirked. "Eric's a goner when she sees the pile of junk in that office."

"Well, he shouldn't be ripping us all off." Stormer frowned. "Much as I hate to be causing trouble, something had to be done. I'm glad Pizzazz listened. I've been worried about her of late. She's been...too keen on Eric."

"She has been bedding him." Roxy's expression became one of derision. "You might as well say it - it's true, even if it is sick. After her reaction tonight...I'm ninety percent sure and so is Jetta. But that's okay. We've used that to our advantage."

"You've what?" Stormer looked confused.

"We told her that he's been screwing her over with some other chick." Roxy shrugged. "Hey, desperate times, Stormer!" As the songwriter looked stunned. "Besides, it worked. She's going to the music company now to see what's going down, and she wants all of us with her. You coming?"

"Yes, of course, if she wants us all." Stormer nodded, grabbing her boots and pulling them onto her feet. "What do you think she will do?"

"Do? Get shot of Eric, probably." Roxy shrugged. "She said she'd talk to her father, too. We all know Harvey is Mr Moneybags, so he'll bail the company out." A smile touched her lips. "And if Eric's gone, there's noone to try and keep us in line."

"As if he ever managed that, working for Pizzazz." Stormer pointed out, tying a loose band into her thick curls and pulling on her coat. "Okay, I'm ready. If Harvey gets involved, ten to one he sends someone down to take over the job."

"Ugh, you think?" Roxy pulled a face. "Maybe you're right. Still, we can scare off any stiff in a suit if he doesn't comply with our rules, can't we?"

"It might be a she." Stormer pointed out. "But yes, I think you guys have proven that you're not to be taken lying down." A wry smile touched her lips. "You three still scare even me from time to time."

"Then don't be such a wimp." Roxy shrugged. "Pizzazz said we're taking the van, so she and Jetta must already be out there."

They made their way downstairs and out onto the Gabor Estate's main forecourt. Pizzazz was already behind the wheel, Jetta in the passenger seat, and, exchanging looks, Roxy and Stormer clambered into the back, barely seated before their impatient leader roared the van out of the driveway and onto the main road.

"What she thinks we'll be able to solve tonight is anyone's business, but at least she's takin' note." Roxy muttered, as the vehicle rattled around a bend. She moved to the front of the van, leaning over Jetta's shoulder to observe the road. "Hey, what are we gonna do, exactly?"

"Take a look at this so called evidence while Eric ain't at the office." Pizzazz said flatly. "What do you think? That I'm gonna go to him and demand he show it all me?"

"He's been doin' plenty of that, if you ask me." Jetta pursed her lips. Pizzazz's eyes narrowed.

"Shut your face." She ordered. "Else you'll find yourself out on the tarmac and walking home."

Jetta shrugged, turning her attention to the road.

"At least it isn't busy tonight." She observed absently. "We might even get to Misfit Music without causin' a fatality."

"I could arrange a fatality..." Pizzazz sent her a warning look.

"Please, don't fight." Stormer joined Roxy, clinging on to the seat for support as she did so. "This is a serious business, and we all need to work together. I don't think any of us realised what was happening until Justin brought it up with Roxy, but now we know about it, the sooner we do something the better. The music company is important, after all."

It did not take long to make the short drive across town to the music company and before long the four girls were stationed in the main office where Eric spent most of his time. Papers were out on the desk and it did not take long for Pizzazz to see that her bandmates had been right. She muttered a curse, rubbing her temples.

"I don't damn well need this." She murmured. "Who would've thought running a music company would be so damn hard?"

"Are you all right?" Stormer looked concerned. Pizzazz dismissed her with an impatient gesture.

"I'm fine, just mad, that's all." She replied grimly. "Nobody makes a fool of me or makes a joke out of my company!"

She skimmed through the pile of letters that the company had received from angry clients, pursing her lips.

"Right. This stops here." She said at length, dropping her bag down onto the table and rummaging around inside it for her chequebook. "I'm gonna write out cheques for all of these right here and now - we can mail them out on our way back from the office. Sooner they're gone the better. Stormer, tomorrow morning I want you to go through these people and call them - tell them that there has been a glitch in our system and that their payment has now been sent out. Do it nicely. We need these people. Roxy..." She eyes the guitarist thoughtfully, then, "You're good with math, ain't you? Work out what exactly Eric owes us, because I want to know exactly what I'm gonna take him to court over. Jetta..."

"Court?" Before Pizzazz could finish, Roxy had interrupted. "Dammit, you're gonna sue him?"

"Damn right I am." Pizzazz agreed darkly. "For every cent he's stolen from me and for everything he owns. This is not going to carry on! This guy is never going to work in Los Angeles again!"

"Should we inform the police?" Jetta asked quietly. Pizzazz bit her lip, then shook her head impatiently.

"No." She said finally. "He'll only wriggle out of it somehow that way. I want my money back and I want it with interest. I want to ruin him in this damn country, so noone ever thinks of employing him here again!"

She set the pile of papers down on the desk.

"So what am I to do, if Stormer's on phone duty an' Roxy's doin' the numbers?" Jetta folded her arms.

"That's simple." Pizzazz shrugged. "You're gonna fire the jerk."

"Me?" Jetta's eyes could not get any bigger.

"Hey, no fair!" Roxy protested. "I'd like to throw him out the place myself!"

"Well, maybe you will. But Jetta's gonna fire him." A strange glint came into Pizzazz's eyes. "If you wanna escort him off the premises, Roxy, be my guest."

"But why me? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I have to speak to Daddy and tell him what's going down." Pizzazz grimaced. "I could rip Eric's head off for making me look like a screw-up in front of my father, but my bank account will only tide the place over temporarily." She pursed her lips. "So it's settled? Everyone knows what they're doing?"

"I'm still not sure I 'ave any authority to do somethin' like fire your chief executive." Jetta looked doubtful. "He might just laugh in me face."

"He might." Pizzazz agreed grimly. "But he'll be laughing from a hospital bed if he ain't careful."

She pulled a sheet of paper off the memo pad, scribbling a note and signing it with her familiar looping scrawl. "Here. Here's your authorisation. I won't be here. I gotta track Daddy down - I think he's still in San Francisco, and that means an early start."

"You're gonna drive out there? Can't you just call him?" Stormer looked surprised.

"I could, but it's better done in person." Pizzazz said briskly. "The less people who get hold of this, the better - I don't want middle men and interns getting a scoop. Gimme the first of those, Stormer. It's already late and I got cheques to write."

"What about Eric's junk?" Roxy scooped up the name bar that stood on the desk. Pizzazz shrugged, and Roxy deftly snapped it in two.

"Whoops." She said, smirking. "Look what I did."

"Dump it all in a box or something. If he takes being fired badly, there's a dumpster outside it can go into." Pizzazz signed the first cheque, hunting around for a blank envelope. "Jetta, envelopes!"

"Yes, your highness." Jetta rolled her eyes, nevertheless retrieving the stack of envelopes from the shelf and handing them over. Pizzazz's brows knitted, but she made no comment, merely handing over the cheque to Stormer.

"Write a cover note or something, will ya?" She said. "You're better with all that nice crap than me."

"Sure, if you like." Stormer agreed, taking a sheet of headed notepaper and writing a brief explanatory note on it.

"You two might as well go grab a box from downstairs to dump Eric's garbage in." Pizzazz glanced up, her gaze falling on Roxy and Jetta. "Go on! I want it all ready to surprise him tomorrow when he brings his sorry butt here."

Roxy eyed Jetta with a grimace, and the English girl shrugged.

"Sure." She said. "We'll see what we can do."

She grabbed Roxy by the arm, pulling her out of the office.

"Hey, don't manhandle me." Once outside, Roxy wrenched her arm free. "So now we're playing errand girls - together?"

"No, we're getting out of there before we're sent to make the tea." Jetta said dryly. "Stormer can play secretary. We can take our time findin' a box...an' then take great pleasure in dumpin' Eric's junk into it!"

"I'm so gonna gatecrash your firing session tomorrow." Roxy cracked her knuckles. "He won't take it so good and it might take two of us to get him out."

Jetta snorted.

"Hardly likely. Eric's a wimp. Stormer could take him." She said derisively. "I can't pretend I won't enjoy it. I've never liked that guy."

"You think I have?" Roxy snorted. "Not me. I don't know why Pizzazz has been funny over him lately, but it's no skin off my nose if he's packed off into oblivion. Not a moment too soon, if you ask me."

"Think Harvey will send someone down to cover the vacancy?"

"Stormer thinks so." Roxy pulled a graphic face. "Which means we'll get to play scare the stiff, I guess. I don't want outsiders coming into our company and screwing it up by trying to set 'rules'."

"God forbid." Jetta shuddered. "Eric was bad enough but at least he wasn't an outsider."

Roxy sent her companion a sidelong glance.

"You and me ain't a bad team when we want to be." She observed at length. Jetta shrugged.

"Well, this is for the greater good." She said quietly. "This is your job an' my job - it's also my work permit, for the record. I ain't letting anything happen to it. And I'm sorry, but I'm done letting Pizzazz degrade herself to some guy almost twice 'er age. I don't know what's gotten into 'er, but that's just..."

"Doesn't bear thinking about." Roxy agreed. "No, he has to go." She smirked. "I ain't got problems with Pizzazz, you know that, but the only reason a guy like Eric would stick around and take the risk is for her money."

"Well, it's a pretty good incentive, if you feel like living dangerously." Jetta mused. "He wouldn't be the first guy."

"No. You'd think she'd wise up." Roxy snorted. "Oh well. At least we hit her where she lives. She won't let him off the hook now she thinks there's another woman involved."

"Like that would ever happen." Jetta chuckled. "The fact he's got to Pizzazz is surreal enough. There's just no way in hell there'd be another woman. Hell, this is Eric we're talking about! Maybe if he was  young, attractive, pleasant company..." She looked amused. "Or even rich and fatally ill. But plain old Eric? Just ain't goin' to 'appen."

"I guess that accident wacked her out more than we thought." Roxy contemplated. "No matter, though. Once he's gone, well, things get back to normal, right?" Her brown eyes sparkled. "And the Misfits are on top again."

"I wonder how Riot and his bimbos will react to the change." Jetta pursed her lips, pushing open the door to the storeroom where empty boxes from equipment were generally stored. "I 'ope 'e won't try and muscle in again. Pizzazz may not be soft on him any more, but if the accident 'as sent her outta wack we don't need her getting ideas in that direction."

"If she's suing Eric's ass off, she won't have time." Roxy said confidently.

"Don't bet on it." Jetta said frankly. "If you ask me she was funny on that Dr Garcia guy who saved her life first of all. Then Eric...who knows what she might do next? I know that she almost died and everything, but sheesh! Someone needs to give 'er a reality check on 'er taste in guys."

"She - and all of us - would be better off if she cut them out altogether." Roxy said firmly. "And I might well tell her so, too. Men are nowt but trouble. Hey, this one do?"

"Big enough for all his rubbish?" Jetta looked doubtful. "Wouldn't get even half of his personalised stationary into this one."

"Or his hot air." Roxy smirked. "But it's the biggest one down here."

"Guess we could stick the rest on a bonfire." Jetta mused, getting to her feet. "Well? Shall we shift it upstairs?"

"Hrm, let's wait a while. Let Stormer finish her little errand first, else we'll get dragged in." Roxy shook her head. "Bad enough I gotta do math tomorrow." She pulled another face. "I might be able to do math - it doesn't mean I like it. You really got the fun job, Jetta. I always knew she liked you best!"

"More likely she doesn't want to do it herself because of the stupid position she's put herself in with you know who." Jetta said wisely. "She doesn't want a confrontation with him, so muggins 'ere is gonna do it. Not that I really mind. I think it might be one of those things which I remember for some time to come!"
 

Part Three: To Hell And Beyond
Chapter One:  Confrontations
Chapter Two: Harvey Gabor
Chapter Three:  Aftershock
Chapter Four:  Enter The Cavalry
Chapter Five:  Executive Meeting
Chapter Six:  Legal Wrangles
Chapter Seven:  New Recruits

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.