Diet Drugs Gone Wild

So, there's this whole big flap about a new diet drug, and the senior residents here are in a wild frenzy to beat drug company Sanofi-Aventis for FDA approval. The WME had an informant inside Sanofi-Aventis, who got the formula and naturally, the WME has the exact same drug, all ready to go. As you can see from their one test subject above, the drug is effective.

Gosh, since the Weapons of Mass Euphoria is a government branch, who do YOU think will have the drug on the market first?

I hate this place.

Franny has been busy at her desk, not saying much to any of us, just looking up now and then to give Luka a quick smile.

Wonder what that girl has up her sleeve?

Dinner

Well, Franny joined us for dinner last night. Renee was practically foaming at the mouth for decorating advice, I think Luka has a serious crush, and Jordan seemed to finally "get it". Thank God. He can be so obstinate sometimes, but that's one of the reasons I love him. When he finally comes around, he is a good sport about being endlessly and mercilessly teased.

We filled her in on the horrors of working at the WME bit by bit, and, after rather copious amounts of beer and wine had been consumed, gave her the hard lowdown - that nobody ever leaves of their own volition. She took it well, especially since we let her know that we were hard at work on an escape plan.

Jordan had suggested we not scare her by telling her everything, but once we got rolling into dinner, she expressed her anger that her workspace had been invaded, and said she was going to quit.

"Oh no!" Julianne had just taken a sip of wine and nearly choked. Jordan shot her a warning look.

"What?" Franny had said, understandably taken aback by Juli's reaction.

"Um, uh, you can't quit, um, you just got here, and we really like you, and, uh...."she trailed off helplessly, shooting an apologetic glance back at Jordan.

Jordan emitted one of his long-suffering sighs, and inwardly I rolled my eyes. Julianne does not have a poker face.

"Hey, guys, c'mon, I appreciate being included and making new friends, but really, I've only been here, what, two weeks? I'll request a transfer and you guys will get over it. Seriously."

What could we do? We had to tell her.

Like I said, she took it remarkably well, although she immediately ordered a full carafe of wine.

After we gave her the details of the escape plan, she was quiet.

We were all holding our breathe, nobody wants to be informed that they are a prisoner, it's a shock to the system, and besides, it's rude.

"You know," she took a long pull of her wine. "I might be able to help. I am still in touch with DHHG Secretary Kenneth L. Kenneth."

She paused, looking into her glass and swirling the contents around.

" What is it?" Jordan asked.

"Nothing, I.... well, I think this information might explain Kenneth's weird response when I told him about being transferred over here....." she trailed off.

"What?" I asked, "What did he say?"

"What do you mean weird?" Luka said.

"Your old boss, right?" Renee asked.

We were all pelting her with questions, when Jordan cut in and we immediately shut up.

"Franny," Jordan's voice was urgent, "do you think you can trust him?"

She looked at each of us for a very long time.

"I don't know," she said, biting on her thumbnail. "But I'm sure as hell going to find out."

Franny Finally Speaks

Jordan and I were working today, it was pretty quiet before lunch, when I felt someone standing over me.

It was Franny.

She had not spoken to anyone since her personal items had been removed from her desk.

At first she just stared at us, then she whispered, "first my things get taken, now this place says mad cow disease doesn't exist? That it's Victoria Beckham's fault?"

I nodded. She drew her breath in sharply.

"May I eat lunch with you guys?"

"No," Jordan answered not looking up from his papers.

Her eyes got very wide, and she looked as if she were about to cry.

Jordan tapped me under the table, handing me the tiny folded paper, which I slipped into her hand.

"That is where we meet for dinner," he said, not once looking up from his files.

Vegan Terrorist

It just never stops around here. Now the Administration is denying Mad Cow disease, saying Victoria Beckham started it by getting cows tanked on Jack Daniels. Do they even HAVE Jack Daniels in England? And for the love of Mike, look at the girl! She couldn't wrestle a mouse into submission!

When is somebody going to stand up and start screaming, "LIARS!!!!"?



Although, I don't know, she does look kinda tough.....I mean, if she could choke a big cat like that.....

Whatever. I still think the Administration is lying out their asses.

But, they're probably going to get away with this one, too. Sigh.

Sigh

She didn't believe me.

It's late, and I am sitting here, feeling miserable because today I was vindicated.

Franny listened to me give her a very short, basic outline of what the deal was working at the WME, and she listened very carefully, but then shook her head.

"I admit, it's pretty grim down here," she said, "but you're saying if I bring a few personal things from home to spruce up my workspace, I am going to get in trouble?

"I don't know for sure, but I have been here a long time, and it's just, it's just never been done! I mean, people get in hot water for saying or doing a lot less, so it only makes sense that, yeah, it's not allowed."

"That's just rubbish," she shook her head. "I think you have been working here too long, Peter." She tilted her head and smiled up at me. "But thanks for the concern."

Then she walked back to her desk.

Well, this morning she came into work to find all of her personal belongings gone. The look on her face, I would have given anything not to have seen it. And the information I shared with her was only the tip of the iceberg. Wait until she heard the rest.

Times like this, I would give anything to be wrong.

But I am not, and it makes me miserable.

The Cheerful Guy

Oh no, I am freaking out. Just saw this picture of our (deargodhelp us all) President, the WME is behind an article about cheerful men and heart disease, and they suggested the Prez endorse the article. It not HIS smarmy, grinning face that upsets me, it's that guy behind him! He WORKS here, he is the "Orientation Greeter" for when new people are hired, and he is always smiling and friendly and helpful, but here, in this candid photo, is the real face.

That is NOT a cheerful dude, and the scariest part is, I always thought it was a different guy who came to "transfer" people out of here, but seeing "Orientation Guy" without his smile plastered on, and Oh My God - it's the same guy!

Do you see why I am freaking? Does he scare you as much as he scares me? He looks NOTHING like that at orientation, and I have a clear memory of it because he is the one who escorted Franny to her desk the day she got here.

I just glanced over at her desk, and my heart just about stopped. She is inputting data, working away, but - - - -

There is a beautiful little picture frame, a small votive candle in a frosted glass holder, and a delicate vase with a tasteful, slim bouquet of fresh flowers in it.

We've gotta move fast. It's Sunday, and none of the higher-ups are here. Psycho Orientation Guy is definitely not here, but if they come in here Monday and see her desk with these items on it.........I don't know. I just don't know. No one here has ever personalized their workspace before. She may only get a warning, but we just can't take the chance.

I am looking around for Jordan, Renee, someone. I don't even know if Julianne or Luka are working today, weekends are so weird.

Oh shit, Franny just looked up and saw me staring at her. I am sure my face is a frozen rictus of horror, because she looks confused.

Oh god she is coming over here.

Breathe, Peter. Breathe. You have to talk to her, and it looks like it is happening now. Breathe.

The Decision

The six of us had dinner last night. Renee and Rayman had to be brought up to speed about Franny, and there was an enormous amount of discussion that ensued concerning her.

Julianne, Luka and I were convinced she should be brought into the group, but Jordan was dragging his heels on the issue. We needed to hash this out, and dinner got very lively.

I proposed in no uncertain terms that she was one of us, and Jordan was insisting on a reason.

"Because there is NO WAY she would choose to work at the WME voluntarily," I said, signaling for another round of Corona's.

"How can you be so sure?" Jordan demanded. He was getting exasperated with my certainty.

"Jordan, Peter's right," Julianne cut in. "No one would go from such a prestigious, glamorous position to the testing area of the WME. ESPECIALLY not from the DHHG. Even interns at the DHHG would not transfer over here."

"But that's what I am saying, it makes no sense, plus, we don't even know if she was transferred! She may have requested it, we don't know, no one has asked her, you guys are just assuming and if you are wrong..." Jordan spread out his hands, as if nothing more needed to be said.

Rayman spoke up. "I have to agree with these guys, Jordan. When I was on the outside, I was briefed on many forms of governmental transfers, and this one would be unprecedented. I think she must have said or done something a little willful, or perhaps knows too much, and they brought her down here to start doing heavy testing on her, zombie her out, neutralize the issue, you know, like...." he trailed off, morosely running his finger across the glass beer bottle.

We knew. No one wanted to mention Anna and Sam these days. We were getting nowhere with them, and were starting to resign ourselves to their fate. Jordan kept saying that he had hope, that he was getting closer, but the lines of defeat around his eyes told a different story.

Renee put her hands over her face. "It can't happen," she groaned. "Franny G. is the lone voice of good taste in this hideous world. If she gets zapped, I cannot imagine what will happen inside department stores, furniture stores, Home Depots, Pier Ones, I just can't..." her voice caught in her throat, and she quickly looked down. Julianne patted her hand.

"Don't worry, Renee, that's what this meeting is about, we are going to get to the bottom of it."

"I haven't even met her yet," she wailed.

"The next strap down test isn't until April twenty-first," Luka passed Renee a tissue. "We have time."

Jordan looked at Rayman. "Are you certain? I have to listen to you because these four," he waved at us, "are operating from irrational emotion, and I have to hear a reasonable voice above the fashion fray."

"It's DECORATING!" I shouted. "Rayman, I gotta warn you, you are trying to talk sense into a man who only lights a candle if there is a power outage."


"Well, Rayman answered slowly, "I see Jordan's point, but to be fair, if it were not for reading Franny's tips about Holiday decor, my house would not only have looked horribly tacky, but I would have been in violation of governmental code, and had to pay a fine. So, I may be a bit biased, but I am trying to leave my feelings out of the equation."

Jordan sighed, draining his beer. "I think I am going to lose this one, so I am folding with as much dignity as possible. Let's move on to issue number two. Which one of us is going to talk to her?"

The table went silent.

The New Girl, part 3

"Hello, she said, her voice quiet.

"Hi" the four of us said in unison.

Her eyes took in my desk, Jordan's desk, and the blank beige wall.

"My name is Frances," she stuck out her hand.

"Peter," I answered.

She shook my hand, gravely.

"Luka," he rumbled, hand over my shoulder.

"Julianne," she reached over, smiling at Franny.

"Jordan," he gave her the invisible hat tip.

We all fell silent. I opened my mouth to ask her why she had identified herself as 'Frances', when I felt, more than actually saw, the warning glance from Julianne.

"Well, nice to meet you all," she said, sticking her hands in her pockets, "I have to put my desk together and go pick up some files."

"Nice to meet you, too," we all answered at once, again.

"Do you need help finding anything?" Luka asked, leaning into her slightly.

Her gaze made the steady 360 around the room again.

"I do, but I am not sure it is something you could help me with," she said, a touch of melancholy flitting across her features.

"Try me," Luka smiled. "At least let me give you a tour, starting with the lunchroom."

She hesitated, then gave a quick nod. "Okay, why not? It's good to know where the coffee is, at least."

"Working here?" Julianne raised her eyebrows, "sometimes you need something a little stronger than coffee. Give her the tour Luka. Welcome to the WME, Frances."

They locked eyes. Franny G. broke into a slow smile.

"Call me Franny," she grinned at Juli, then turned and followed Luka through the double doors.

"What was that?" I asked, feeling left out. After all, Franny G. was MY hero - and she and Julianne had just had some mysterious bonding moment that had flown right by me.

"Later, Peter." Julianne looked at us pointedly. "I have a feeling things are going to get veeeerrrry interesting around here."

Jordan and I stared at each other, baffled.

The New Girl, part 2

"Peter!" Jordan looked up from his conversation with Julianne. "What is your problem? I have not seen you this hysterical since you spotted Jackie Collins at Bloomingdale's last year".

I could hardly breathe. "The new girl, over there, the..." I pointed and Luka grabbed my arm.

'Rude!" he said sharply.

Inhaling slowly I focused on the three of them.

"That, my friends, is Franny G., of the Department of Homeland Homes and Gardens."

Luka and Jordan stared at me, clueless, but Julianne gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth.

"Yes," I nodded.

"Why is she down here?" Julianne whispered, her eyes huge. "Just BEING down here could literally kill the poor woman."

We all looked over at Franny, who seemed to be trying to take her own deep breaths. We watched as she slowly sat down, taking off her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I know they dissolved the Department around the first of the year, but why would they send her here?" Julianne persisted. "Do you think maybe they are finally going to make this hellhole livable?"

I snorted. "Are you kidding? Does she look happy, like a person rolling up her sleeves to renovate? No."

"Guys?" Jordan cut in, "Care to fill us in on this Franny G.? Sorry, but I'm lost."

I shook my head sadly. "Jordan, do you think my gorgeous apartment just happened on its own? Do you think my coming over to your place with tea lights and throw pillows was some sort of creative whim? It was ALL suggestions and pointers from Franny G. She is renowned for her decorating tips, and if it were not for her, you would STILL be in that horrible Eighties glass-and-chrome cell you called home.

That woman was number one at the Department of Homeland Homes and Gardens, she worked hand in hand with the Department Director, Kenneth H. Kenneth, fighting the terror of home decor. She is the living, breathing "Do" and "Don't" when it comes to creating the showpiece, the absolute end in good taste, I, I could go on all day...."

"Shh!" Luka whispered. "She's coming this way."