Chapter 1: The Journey from the Bored-room

The Disneys were in charge of a factory that made soap operas, much in the same way that other factories make bicycles, Frisbees, or clothespins. Their products may come in slightly different colors and slightly different sizes, but basically, they all did the same thing in the same way. Even their speech had an aura of sameness about it, as they conversed almost entirely in sentences like: "Stay the course," and "That's the way things are," and their most favorite line of all, "If they liked it yesterday, they'll like it today and tomorrow too..."

So when Harried Plotter, who had been working for them for the past couple of years, suggested that perhaps Jax would be better off paired permanently with Alexis, naturally, they had something to say about that:

"JAX LOVES CHLOE, AND ALEXIS LOVES NED! AND THAT'S THE WAY THINGS ARE!" came the response, in a particularly loud voice.

"I know they do," said Plotter. "It was just a thought..."

But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing that the Disneys hated more than contact negotiations, it was his talking about anyone acting in a way they shouldn't--or, at least, in a way not tried before--they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

"And another thing," the Disneys continued, "we'd like you to feature the teens on every single show on every single day this entire summer...and well into the fall, if you please..."

Harried Plotter let out a loud sigh. "No, I don't 'please'!" he said. "Teenagers aren't our only target audience, you know, and if it's all the same to you..."

"Of course it's all the same!" they replied. "If they liked it yesterday, they'll like it today, and they'll like it tomorrow too!" And as if to additionally punctuate the end of another of their favorite sentences, they punched the speed-dial on their phone: "Get me another boy-band... No, we don't care which one... They're all the same, aren't they?"

Plotter slumped back into his comfy chair, trying to ignore the buzz of the Disney chatter, and wishing that something would happen that was definitely not the same. That was when he heard someone banging on the boardroom door.

"PLOTTER! IS THERE A HARRIED PLOTTER IN THERE?" boomed the very loud and somewhat familiar voice.

Plotter, noting that no one else in the room seemed to have heard the voice, rose from his seat to answer the door. Standing on the other side of the doorway was a rather large, dark man with a shiny bald head.

"Who are you?" asked Plotter.

"Don't you recognize me?" said the large man, looking a little hurt. "I'm Marcus Taggert, Keeper of the Keys at the Backburner. Y'all know about the Backburner, dontcha Mr. Plotter?"

"But...but...you're not on the back-burner right now," Harried replied, retrieving this week's script from his hip pocket. "See here? You've got at least ten lines this week..."

Taggert laughed and addressed the Disneys, who were still ignoring the both of them. "Ooooh, rather brave of him, dontcha think? Givin' me all those lines?" he said. "I might take a few minutes of precious screen time away from the Reggles..."

Plotter was definitely confused now, but he decided that confused was better than bored. "Reggles?" he asked.

"Y'know, 'Regulars'," Taggert replied. "The ones who are onscreen day after day after day. Folks like Sonny, Carly, Jason, Luke, Roy, Bobbie, the Teens. The story-hogs..."

"Er...of course," said Harried, looking a tad bit guilty. "So what do you want with me?" he asked.

Taggert laughed again and produced a yellowish envelope addressed to Mr. H. Plotter, The Comfy Chair, Boredroom, 4151 Prospect Avenue, Hollywood, California. "It's not what I want with you, Plotter," he said, "It's what you might want with us..."

"You misspelled 'boardroom'," Harried noted, looking at the envelope.

"No we didn't," replied Taggert.

It was Harried's turn to laugh. He pulled out the letter and read:

Dear Mr. Plotter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Backburner's School of Invisibility.

Term begins on October 1. We await your dog by no later than September 15.

"My dog?" Plotter said. "What does it mean, they await my dog?"

Taggert turned his head and whistled loudly. "FOSTER! HERE BOY!" he bellowed, leaving Harried nearly deaf and wishing he hadn't asked.

A large ugly dog bounded down the hall, his long tongue trailing out of his mouth, leaving a Hansel'n'Gretel-esque path of drool in his wake. He leapt up and draped a big front paw over each of Harried's shoulders, applying his tongue liberally to Harried's face.

"Fer gawd's sake! Get this mangy thing offa me! I hate pets!" Plotter cried.

"No one knows that better than Foster," said Taggert through a bemused smile. He pried the dog off of Harried and scrawled a short note:

Given Harried his letter. Taking him to the Backburner now. See you when we get there.

Taggert rolled up the note and gave it to the dog, who clamped down on it with such relish that Harried was dubious that the message would survive the journey intact.

"So, I'm going with you?" Plotter asked, at last.

Taggert nodded, indicating the others in the room, who were still droning on, oblivious to their presence. "Hell, you're half-way there already. No one's paying any attention to you anymore. Just like the rest of us at the Backburner. You'll fit right in..." He paused, cocking his head to one side, "Say, what's that jagged streak on your forehead? Is that some kinda birthmark?"

Harried reached up and rubbed at the aforementioned spot. "Damn!" he said. "I must've fallen asleep on my pen again! Stupid bored-meetings!"

Taggert looked a little disappointed. "Oh. I thought you might have a tattoo, like me," he said, pulling back his shirt to show Plotter.

And it was as if Taggert suddenly became visible to the Disneys in the boardroom:

"Oooh, great pecs!" someone said.

"Nice tattoo! Very hip!" another cried.

"But a shame he's too old for our demographics," clucked a third one. "Maybe he has a little sister..."

Taggert sighed and buttoned up his shirt. "And so it goes..." he said.

Their journey to the Backburner School was a strange one indeed, for Harried. They wandered past the various rooms and streets of Port Charles, passing through scene after scene of 'Reggle' conversations.

In Kelly's, Jason was busy soothing Elizabeth's worries.

"I wonder if anyone else gets as tired of me talking about Lucky as I do," said Elizabeth to Jason.

Taggert chuckled and raised his hand.

"Can't they see us?" asked Plotter.

"Nope," Taggert replied. "One of the things you're gonna learn at the Backburner school is how to make yourself invisible to Reggles. Right now, I've gotcha covered, but eventually, you'll be able to wander around by yourself and no one'll be the wiser."

Cool, thought Plotter. Who knew that resigning from his job could turn out to be so fun?

At the Penthouse, Jason was busy helping with Carly and Sonny's wedding.

"I, you know, do," said Sonny.

"I, you know, do too," said Carly.

"There's a match made in, you know, heaven..." muttered Taggert.

"I don't write that in there, you know... " whispered Plotter.

At the Quartermaines, Jason was busy explaining to everyone how to deal with Emily's kidnapper.

"Oh, Marcus!" Lila exclaimed, as Jason droned on, oblivious to the interruption. "How lovely to see you! And Mr. Plotter too!"

"Wait a minute," said Harried. "I thought no one could see us."

"Oh, none of the Reggles can, dear," explained Lila. "But I can see you perfectly well."

"Hey Taggert!" said Alan and Monica, with a wave.

Taggert waved back. "How's the fertility treatments going?"

"Backburnered, as usual" said Alan. "And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go yell at Jason..." Alan turned and did just that, as if there had been no interruption.

"Now wait a minute," said Plotter, "won't the viewers notice all the weird extra conversation?"

Taggert pulled a little box out of his pocket. "Not with this thing: the Nevermind Rewind. It automatically erases any extra conversation--or stuff you don't want them to hear--from both the viewers' and the Reggles' memories. All the Backburner folks have 'em."

"Wow," said Plotter, clearly impressed. "Can I use that thing to change the lame ending to the Mixed Marrieds story? I'd love to have a do-over on that one..."

"Sorry, it doesn't work that way..." Taggert replied.

The two of them bade farewell to Lila and headed for the docks...where Jason was busy helping AJ avoid a confrontation with Sorel.

"AJ, you're not doing anyone any favors by paying off Sorel," Jason said. "You did all you could for Emily by getting me out of jail..."

To Jason's obvious surprise, AJ burst out laughing. "Not too full of yourself, are ya, Jason?" he said.

"But...but that's not what you're supposed to..." stammered Jason.

"Yeah! Mighty Jason, released from the PCPD, like a Genie out of a bottle, to grant us our every wish," AJ continued, "and I'm just the dork with the cork!"

"AJ!" Taggert hollered. "Quit clownin' around with the 'Nevermind'!"

"Sorry," said AJ, wiping the shocked look off of Jason's face with a touch of a button. "But you gotta admit, it was pretty funny..."

"Actually, that was kind of funny..." said Plotter with a grin.

"Ah, he's been usin' that thing way too much lately. Tellin' off everyone, sayin' stuff out loud that he's always wanted to say. Sure, it's kinda funny, but I swear, now that he's getting more screen time, some of it's slippin' through and the viewers are starting to hear it," explained Taggert. "Besides, you shoulda heard what he said about you during the whole AJ/Carly/Jason triangle..."

Plotter's grin faded. "I see..."

They reached the end of the docks and Taggert gestured to the Port Charles River. "Our yacht awaits!" he said.

Harried saw only water. "But I don't see anything..."

"Just walk straight ahead. The gangplank's out and ready for you," said Taggert.

Plotter took a few tentative steps, and then looked back at Taggert. "Uh...you're not still mad at me for back-burnering you for the better part of three years, are you? I mean, you're getting a bit of story now, right?"

Taggert laughed. "I'm not tryin' to make you take a long walk off a short pier, if that's what you mean. Although, I'll admit the thought crossed my mind 'round about the billionth time Corinthos and Morgan made fools of me and everyone else at the PCPD," he said, winking at the now-very-nervous-looking Plotter. "We have to keep things hidden so the Reggles don't get suspicious. Trust me. It's there." He cupped his hands to his mouth and hollered out over the water. "HEY, ANDY! YOU GOT THE ANCHOR WEIGHED AND ALL THAT?"

"How many times do I have to tell you to please call me by my proper name, Marcus?" Came the disembodied and rather miffed reply. "Or are you feeling up to a long swim today?"

"Oh all right, if you insist...BOY-TOY!"

"Very funny. Nearly as funny as the last hundred times I've heard it." There was a brief pause, and Plotter could hear the sound of papers rustling, but still couldn't see anything at all besides the water. "Now, if you'll please stop lollygagging and get on board," Andreas' voice continued, "I'm on a rather tight schedule you know, and Madame hates to be kept waiting..."

Taggert gave Plotter a light shove in the back. "You heard the man," he said. "Get goin'."

Harried swallowed hard and stepped out over the water and was pleasantly surprised to discover himself supported by a very solid and now very visible gangplank. Before him he could clearly see Helena Cassadine's yacht with Andreas waiting at the top of the gangplank, nattily attired in a skipper's uniform, impatiently checking his watch.

"Step lively now, I haven't got all day," he said, motioning the two men aboard.

"He's in a bit of a mood, isn't he?" muttered Plotter to Taggert.

"Well, I tend to be when pressed to provide passage to the man who's responsible for my twin's demise," said Andreas, who'd obviously overheard. "You remember Ari, don't you, Mr. Plotter? Looks just like me...except for that nasty ice pick in his back. Needless to say it's quite easy to tell us apart now..."

"Uh...yes. Of course. Sorry about that," mumbled Harried. And for the first time, he felt a sense of trepidation about this new adventure. Sure, it was great getting away from the Disneys, and it was kind of fun discovering all the perks this alternative reality had to offer, but in doing so he was entering a world populated solely by folks who might have an axe or two to grind with him. He felt his posture stiffen as he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable assault of karma backlash.

"We've arrived!" announced Andreas, expertly maneuvering the yacht into its moorings.

"Funny, it didn't feel as if we went anywhere at all..." Plotter said, but when he looked out upon the new vista, he knew they had traveled far from Port Charles indeed.

On to Chapter 2

Back to Front Page of Issue

Back to Top