[Author's note: This is a parody of a movie I haven't actually seen (Mystery Men) so I suppose it shouldn't be called a parody at all. However, I liked the idea of the town superhero removed from the scene, allowing all of the lesser wannabe's to take their shot at battling evil and such, so I am stealing the premise. The Backburner cast has been purposely whittled to include those who have been most maligned (in my opinion) in order to promote the triumvirate of Sonny, Jason and Luke. The others shall return in subsequent episodes.]
"Please, Luke..." Felicia's voice was a quivering mass of emotion, and she gripped the front of Luke's shirt with both hands. "You have to save Mac. He's so obsessed with Faison that he can't think straight."
Luke gazed tenderly into Felicia's desperate eyes and gently pried her hands away from his shirt (which was a linen/cotton blend, after all, prone to wrinkling). "I'll see what I can do, Darlin', but Faison's a tough customer. I'm gonna need some help...."
"Well, I've already spoken with Sonny and Jason, and they're willing to step in...."
Suddenly, a large couch pillow appeared out of nowhere, hitting both of them in the head with one blow. They continued unfazed, however, as the padded projectile glanced harmlessly off of Judy's TV screen. Disappointed in her ineffective salvo, Judy aimed her remote at the pair and fired, muting the offensive exchange.
"That's the last straw!" she yelled.
What was that supposed to refer to anyway? The one that broke the camel's back? The one that signifies an unpleasant deed for the person who draws it (or is that the short straw)? A beverage crisis at the local Dairy Queen? Whatever. It felt good to shout it out loud anyway, startling her three cats from their perches on the sofa. They took up positions at a safer distance across the room and sat staring at their human, waiting for an explanation.
She pointed at the TV screen. "I'm seeing the same darn thing, over and over again! One of my beloved Backburner characters finally gets a little bit of the spotlight, only to wind up eclipsed by one of the Eternal Frontburner guys." Noticing that the cats were watching her finger, and not the TV, she stopped gesturing and started drumming her nails on the side table.
"First, there was Tony," she began, "he had this fabulous melt-down, kidnapped Michael and then...nothing! The story became all about Jason and Carly, and we didn't see Tony again for months and months. You'd have thought he was the one who needed the maternity leave." She launched herself off the couch and started to pace around the living room. "Then, there was Justus. He moves in across the hall from Jason and we actually start to see him more than once a month, then...BAM! Sonny needs to get back on the canvas pronto, so they bring in Moreno and decide to 'take Justus in a new direction'...right off my TV screen. What a waste!" She held up her hand in a preemptive gesture. "And don't get me started on AJ!" she cried, "The guy is backburnered for the better part of a year, while his infant son hogs the spotlight, only to reemerge as Snidley Whiplash to Jason's Dudley Do-Right." She stopped pacing and gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. "If only the writing were half as good as the cartoon's," she muttered. She turned to face the TV screen, just in time to see Jason and Sonny join Luke in his office. Their voices were still muted, but Judy knew what was going down. "And now we have poor Mac, hauled off the backburner to play the village idiot to the Wise Guys yet again," she sighed. "Same as it ever was..."
Or did it have to be? Must the circle be unbroken? Must the big wheel keep on turning? She picked up the phone and started punching in numbers.
"Backburner Bar..." said the answering voice.
"Hello, Alex?"
"Judy, is that you?"
"Yeah. I gotta favor to ask you. I want you to arrest Sonny, Jason and Luke and haul them all over here."
"That's gonna be tough. I haven't got a warrant."
Judy glared at the soon-to-be-abducted trio on her TV screen, and grabbed another sofa pillow. "I got your warrant right here," she said menacingly, "Just do it, okay? I'll explain later...."
"Alright, I'll do it," he relented. "But I have to tell you, I'm leaving the PCPD soon...."
"WHAT?"
"I've decided to become a priest."
Judy nearly dropped the phone. "Oh dear God!"
"Yep." agreed Garcia, oblivious to her distress. "See you at confession!" he quipped, and hung up the phone.
Judy stared at the dead receiver and sighed. "Confession, my ass. You can't handle the truth...."
True to his word, Garcia extracted the three popular characters from the GH landscape and brought them to Judy's living room. Needless to say, they were less than pleased with their new situation and accommodations.
"What the hell is this?" demanded Sonny. "Who are you, and what do you want with us anyway?"
Judy smiled and nodded at the sofa. "Have a seat, boys. You're gonna be here for a while." She proffered a large Tupperware bowl. "Want some chexmix? It's got M&M's in it...good stuff!"
Suffice it to say that the chexmix was not enough to assuage their tempers. They had quite a lot to say actually, but, seeing as this is a Backburner piece, and they get enough screentime as it is, we'll assume that the initial whining and protestations occurred off-screen. When it became clear that Judy was no pushover, and they weren't getting anywhere, the three of them eventually gave up and listened to her explanation.
"I'm tired of the three of you being the heroes of the show," she began.
Luke bristled. "That's blasphemy, Darlin'! I'm an anti-hero!"
"Yeah! Me too!" said Sonny.
"What he said," added Jason, nodding at Sonny.
Judy snorted derisively. "Anti-hero! What the hell does that mean, anyway? If you come in contact with a real hero, the universe will implode? Gimme a break! What I mean is, I'm tired of you guys saving the day and making my Backburner boys look like fools. I'm just trying to spread the spotlight around a little." She smiled and gave them a wink. "It's nothing personal, really...."
Sonny laughed. "Did it ever occur to you that those losers can't think their way out of a paper bag and that's why they don't get the primo stories?" He pointed at the TV. "Look at 'em gathering in Mac's office, lookin' like a bunch of clueless idiots...."
Noticing that Jason was staring at Sonny's finger, and not at the TV, Judy suppressed a smile. "Well, intelligence and insight are sometimes housed in the most unlikely vessels," she said. "They've rarely been given the chance to display their hidden talents." She pointed the remote at the television and de-muted the sound. "Let's just see what they can do before we make any judgments...."
They were just in time to hear AJ recap Garcia's story: "So what you're telling us is: Luke, Sonny and Jason are out of the picture for a while, leaving us to do battle with this Faison character?"
Garcia nodded. "That's it in a nutshell."
"That's a pretty tall order," said Tony.
"It is not!" Mac exclaimed. "Taggert and I can do this by ourselves, right Marcus?"
"Oh yeah," said Justus. "So far, your plan of false imprisonment and illegal harassment is working really well...."
Taggert tensed, glaring at Justus. Before he could retort, Dara stepped between the men. "Okay you guys, this is gonna get us nowhere fast," she said. "Let's reel in the machismo for a while."
Tony shook his head in agreement. "Dara's right. This little adventure is supposed to involve all of us, so we've got to put aside any previous differences and learn to work together. There can't be any loose cannons...AJ, what are you doing?"
AJ had pulled out his cell phone and was busy punching in numbers. "I'm calling Carly," he said. "She'll know what to do...."
Taggert rolled his eyes. "Oh fer god's sake, how 'whipped can you get?! Gimme that thing!" He grabbed the phone, removed and pocketed the batteries, and handed it back to AJ, who stood staring at it as if he could will it back to life.
"There can be no Frontburner intervention," Garcia said. "You can interact with them, but they can't know your agenda. The whole point of this is to get you to think and act for yourselves."
Dara looked puzzled at Garcia's second person narrative. "Aren't you going to be involved in this caper, Alex?"
"No, I'm afraid not," he replied. "I'm going to become a priest," he added, as if that were a logical excuse for his absence. He bade them farewell and left the room.
"That'll be one redundant vow of celibacy," Taggert mused.
Sonny handed Judy his handkerchief as she broke into sobs. "What a waste...to never have seen that man unclothed in a love scene..." she wailed.
Unable to resist a damsel in distress, Sonny reached over and patted her shoulder. "Hey, don't cry, honey. I'll be naked with Hannah again soon."
Judy shot him a withering look and turned up the volume.
"Okay," Mac was saying, "taking down Faison is going to be the biggest challenge we've ever had. I think we should take stock of our assets. Taggert and I are sharpshooters, and I've had some experience with explosives and sabotage. How about the rest of you?"
Tony spoke first. "Well, I'm a doctor, of course. And, even though I can't perform surgery anymore, I can still throw a scalpel with accuracy."
"I was really good with a baseball bat," said Justus, glancing sidelong at Mac and Taggert. "...Er, in little league, that is," he amended.
Dara wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What are we planning here, a rumble? Instead of resorting to assault, or worse yet, murder, shouldn't we be trying to find a legal way of dealing with the guy?"
"Legality's only a problem if you get caught," offered AJ.
Tony laughed. "Spoken like a true Quartermaine," he said, clapping AJ on the back. "But he has a point, you know, going the legal route never works in Port Charles...."
"Spoken like a true kidnapper," replied AJ, glaring at Tony, "and my point was to advocate the covert route. Let's try to avoid abducting Faison in the middle of the PC Hotel lobby, okay?"
Mac intervened: "So... AJ, just what is it that you're going to contribute to this mission? Are there any skills you've learned from your position as CEO of ELQ that we could use? Are there any business contacts you have that might know him as his alias 'Herr Krieg'?"
"C'mon Mac, you know all that takes place off-screen. I have no clue what it is that I do there. Heck, I don't even know where my office is." He started rummaging through his pockets. "I think I have the number of a good arsonist, though...."
"Yeah, that'll come in handy if Faison decides to build a warehouse," scoffed Taggert.
"I'm afraid I won't be much of a help either," said Dara. "Other than a working knowledge of the legal system, which we've already established as being a rather ineffective tool, all I can do is sing."
"But you do have a lovely voice, Dear," offered Justus.
Dara beamed. "Thank you Honey...."
Taggert held up his hand, obviously confused. "Wait a minute.... Dear? Honey? Dara, I thought WE were dating..."
It was Dara's turn to look confused. "Maybe we are.... I just don't know anymore...."
AJ placed a comforting hand on Dara's shoulder. "Being involved in a triangle isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?"
Mac checked his watch and sighed. "Okay, I think we've spent enough time discussing our strong points. We need to come up with a plan of action...."
"I think killing him is out of the question," said Justus. "Especially since he's a citizen of a foreign country. We've got local law enforcement on our side, but there might be an inquiry from overseas."
"Agreed," said Dara. "There's got to be a way of neutralizing him that won't arouse suspicion."
Tony snapped his fingers. "How about using drugs?"
AJ held up his hand. "No thanks. My family has a bad history...."
"Not for us! For Faison! There's a whole apothecary of poisons at Wyndemere. The Cassadines use 'em like candy."
"That's right!" agreed Mac. "Helena and Stefan both had administered some kind of death-mimicking drug to Katherine and Lesley...."
"And I'm pretty sure Helena's current condition is not because of a stroke," added Tony.
"Okay, so we have to break into Wyndemere," said Taggert, "which, I understand, has one helluva security system."
Justus nodded. "We'll need some kind of diversion...."
Luke pointed to the television. "Now wait a minute. How'd AJ get to Count Vlad's place so fast? That's at least a 20 minute boat ride from my place...."
"It's called cutting," replied Judy. "It spares us the tedium of having to watch every little moment of your day."
Luke smiled. "Darlin', there are no tedious moments in my day...."
"Mr. Alan Quartermaine Jr. to see you, sir," said Mrs. Lansbury.
Stefan rose from the chair behind his desk. "What can I do for you, Mr. Quartermaine?"
AJ smiled and shook Stefan's hand. "Mr. Cassadine! It's a pleasure, as always...."
Stefan looked a bit puzzled. "You may have to refresh my memory. When have we spoken directly before?"
AJ looked down at his feet. "Well...never...but really, our meeting one another was long overdue. I'm married to your ex-wife's illegitimate daughter, after all; which makes us practically family."
"Which makes us of no relation whatsoever...."
AJ gave a nervous laugh. "Tomato, tomahto...."
"Mr. Quartermaine, I'm a busy man. And as much as I'd enjoy whiling away the hours trading vegetable-related metaphors with you, I must ask that you state your purpose."
AJ sank into the enormous stuffed chair across from Stefan's, clearly indicating that he didn't intend to leave anytime soon. "Well, as you know, I'm the new CEO of ELQ," he began, "and I'm here to offer you a business proposition."
Stefan reseated himself at his desk, steepling his fingers under his chin. "And what might that be?" he asked.
AJ glanced at the security grid on the wall behind Stefan's chair, noticing with some relief that none of the alarm lights were lit yet, and racked his brain for some kind of answer; an answer lengthy enough to distract Stefan from his cohorts' clandestine activities....
"Okay, I've got the phone lines disconnected," whispered Mac, "and now I'm going to work on the security system."
Dara refocused the flashlight on the tangle of colored wires. "How do you know which ones to cut?" she asked.
"First of all, I'm going to disable the audio alarm," he replied, his wire cutters hovering over a rather innocuous-looking blue wire.
The peripheral light from the torch illuminated a shift from interest to concern on Dara's features. "But won't tampering with the alarm system set off another alarm? I would think there'd be a back-up of some sort."
Mac nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, it'll set off a silent alarm, which is why we needed Taggert to dispatch the guards and AJ to deal with Stefan. As long as they don't see that little red light, we'll be just fine." He pulled out his walkie-talkie and pressed the call button, silently alerting Taggert to report in.
"Taggert here," came the reply.
"Mission accomplished?" Mac asked.
Taggert's soft chuckle was nearly lost in the accompanying static. "Yep. I made the rounds of all the sentries, and they're sleepin' like babies." He paused, blowing on the barrel of his dart gun in the manner of a wild west gunslinger. "Tell Doctor Jones that his hypodermic cocktails did the trick."
Mac smiled. "I will," he replied. He turned his attention back to the alarm, clearly enjoying himself. "Okay, here we go!" he said, feeling a rather nostalgic rush of adrenaline as his snipped the first wire, "Let's hope that AJ's keeping his part of the bargain...."
"So...if I'm understanding you correctly, Mr. Quartermaine, which is a bit unlikely given the rather oblique nature of your presentation, you're offering me the entire city of Jakarta? Don't its three million citizens have anything to say about this?"
"B-but of course, I don't mean the whole city," AJ stammered. "Just the parts that ELQ owns."
"Ah, I see." Stefan replied smoothly. "For a moment, I was worried that ELQ had turned Napoleonic."
AJ chuckled, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. But when he saw the red light begin to flash over the shoulder of Stefan's gray suit, his throat tightened and produced an involuntary burst of hyenic laughter. He instantly quelled it, only to provoke a coughing fit.
Stefan moved to rise from his chair. "You seem agitated Mr. Quartermaine," he observed. "Perhaps you would like a glass of water...."
AJ held out his hand in a preemptive gesture. "NO! Please! Don't get up on my account!" he exclaimed. Hoping to attract Stefan's attention away from the security grid, he slung his briefcase onto the desk with a loud thud. He flipped it open and began rifling through its contents. "I...I'm sure there's a pie chart in here somewhere," he said.
Stefan sighed and leaned forward on the desk, massaging his temples. "Of that eventuality, I have no doubt," he muttered.
Justus nudged Tony, "Okay, we're clear to enter," he whispered. "Mac's got the alarm thing under control."
The two men crept through a maze of hallways to Helena's room, thinking Stefan would most likely store the drugs near the person for whom they were intended. "Now remember," Tony advised, "Helena can see us and hear us, but she's completely unable to respond. She won't be able to tell Stefan a thing about our breaking and entering."
"If she'd even want to," Justus replied, "I understand that she and Stefan are not on the best of terms." He glanced uneasily at the door as Tony stood poised to open it. "Still, the idea of her watching our every move is a bit unnerving."
Tony made a face at a stone gargoyle sconce which brandished an electric torch, the only light in the darkened hallway. "And it doesn't help that this place is like something out of Edgar Allan Poe's nightmares," he quipped. "Let's hope the Evil Eye is asleep."
"'...For it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye'," whispered Justus, quoting from The Telltale Heart with a grin.
Tony smiled and assumed his best Vincent Price voice, opening the door and shining the flashlight in: "'So I opened the door...until at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of a spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye'.... GEEZ!" he yelped, dropping the flashlight.
Tony's inspection revealed that Helena's eyes were indeed open; and, upon seeing the hapless intruders stumble into her room, they rolled skyward in an expression of contempt.
"Remember..." Justus reiterated (perhaps speaking more to reassure himself than his companion), "you said she's powerless to do anything...."
"Except mock us silently," Tony replied. "I imagine she finds us as idiotic as her resurrected minion, Katherine Bell."
Justus smiled, unable to resist launching into Poe once again. "Katherine Bell, Bell, Bell, Bell, Bell, Bell, Bell...."
Tony fell immediately into the parody: "In her clamorous appealing to inseminate a womb, In a mad expostulation to dissimulate her doom...." He trailed off as he glanced at Helena's eyes, her lids opened wide to reveal unblinking pools of rage. "Okay, I think she's had enough faux Poe for one day," he said. "How about we get down to business?"
"I'm afraid that I'm reluctant to do business with a company that would produce such a poor chart." Stefan rotated the paper in his hands 180 degrees, squinting at it through his eyeglasses.
AJ leaned over the desk and peeked at the paper. "Oh!" he laughed. "I gave you one of my son's drawings by mistake!" He pointed at a small, crude pair of stick figures. "That's Michael and his mommy, Carly" he said. Then he indicated a huge figure looming over both of them, "...and that's Jason, his uncle." His finger moved to a rather insignificant spot of color in the corner of the page, "and that's me, I guess...."
"It appears to be a jelly stain," Stefan observed.
AJ sighed and took back the drawing. "Story of my life...." he lamented.
Stefan stroked his goatee, suddenly interested in his visitor. "So, you have a brother who overshadows you, and a son who idolizes him because he's been led to believe that he's his father?"
"Yes. And my mother prefers him as well."
"I understand. I'm somewhat familiar with that situation myself. Fortunately, the tide has turned in my favor."
AJ leaned forward in his chair. "Really? What did you do?"
"What are we gonna do?" Justus asked. "We've searched this entire room and turned up nothing!"
Tony put his ear to the door. "I don't know, but I can hear footsteps coming this way." He motioned to the bed. "As Helena's doctor, I can explain my presence, but you'd better hide."
Justus slid under Helena's bed, as its occupant's nurse entered the room. "Doctor Jones!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you'd be here today...."
"Yes," said Tony, glancing at Helena's monitors. "I'm just checking to see if there's been any improvement in her condition."
She cast a pitying eye on Helena's still form. "I'm afraid I haven't noticed anything encouraging," she said. "Although I do think she enjoys the books I read to her," she added, wielding a copy of yet another bodice-ripper.
Tony suppressed a smile, imagining Helena's true reaction to such literature. "Try reading her Poe," he suggested. "I understand he's a favorite of hers. I'm sure Mr. Cassadine has several copies of his books in the library that you could use...."
"Of course, Doctor!" she said, turning to leave. "I'll go get one right away!"
"Well, that was easy..." muttered Tony, as the door closed behind her. "You can come out now, Justus."
"Wait," he replied, rummaging around under the bed. "I think I've found some kind of trap door under here.... YES!" he said, lapsing back into Poe-speak "'tear up the planks! here! here! It is the beating of his hideous'.... HEY! Jackpot!" Justus emerged with a book under his arm. "I think I've just found the Cassadine Codex of Potions and Cauldrons."
Tony extended his hand. "Let me see," he said. He took the book and flipped it open, taking a cursory read of the contents. "This is what we need, all right," he agreed.
Justus peered over Tony's shoulder. "Yeah, this'll put Faison out of commission for long time," he agreed, "And how convenient that most of these are made from common household cleaners...." He gave an involuntary shiver upon reading the effects of one of the more noxious concoctions. "Ooh! Never mix bleach with those scrubbing bubbles...."
"I'm afraid that my solutions are somewhat unorthodox, and may not be applicable to your situation," said Stefan. "For example, I doubt that Luke Spencer will conveniently dispose of your brother for you...."
AJ nodded his head. "That's for sure. They get along great. Besides, regardless of how I might feel about Jason now, there was a time when we did get along, and I couldn't bring myself to have him killed."
Stefan looked a little disappointed. "I see," he replied. "And as for your mother, I don't suppose that it's occurred to you to incapacitate her...."
AJ's eyes grew wide at the suggestion. "No!" he protested. "I like my mother!"
Stefan shook his head. "I'm afraid that your sentimentality will be your undoing. My remaining piece of advice is for you to love your nephew as your son. Then, if the truth eventually does come out, it won't be so...jarring for him."
"Um...Michael is my son. There's no doubt about that...."
"Nephew...son...it really makes no difference, does it, in the grand scheme of things?" said Stefan, with a rather faraway look in his eye. "Give your son the father he deserves, and over time, he'll learn to accept whatever truth he's given. Patience and perseverance will prevail in the end, as in Aesop's fable of the hare and the tortoise...."
AJ raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Of course, it's a lot easier for the tortoise to win if the hare is pushed down a flight of stairs...."
Stefan shrugged. "Potato, potahto...."
A mild tremor from the beeper in AJ's hip pocket indicated the successful completion of his cohorts' mission. He glanced furtively at the security grid and noted with some relief that it no longer indicated any sign of tampering. "Wow, look at the time," he said, making a show of checking his watch. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've really got to get back to the office...."
Stefan rose with AJ and shook his hand. "It's unfortunate that we never got around to discussing the specifics of your offer," he said. "Perhaps another time...."
"Uh...yeah...maybe..." AJ hedged. "You know how mercurial these business deals are. One day, you get offered the world...and the next...well...."
"I understand," said Stefan, nodding his head. "Would you like my driver to deliver you to your office at ELQ?"
"NO!" AJ blurted, a little too loudly, "I mean...it's a nice day. I'll walk there from the launch."
"How convenient," Stefan replied. "I had no idea that your office was that close to the docks."
AJ sighed. "Neither did I..." he muttered, as he walked out the door.
"So now they're at my place? What the hell are they doing at my place?" Luke griped.
"Number one, they know you're not using it and the place is always conveniently empty unless there's some boy-band playing," replied Judy with a wicked smile. "Number two, we haven't seen Tony's, Dara's, Taggert's or Justus' apartments in years...and, in Dara's case, never; while AJ lives in some nondescript, not-too-private room at the Q house, and Mac lives with two young girls and a nosy wife...."
"Hey!" Luke protested. "You watch what you say about Felicia!"
Sonny snorted and nudged his friend with his elbow. "You and your blondes! Don't you realize that Felicia only appeals to you because she reminds you of Laura?"
There was a long moment of silence. But alas, no epiphany.
"Uh...speaking of pots and kettles," Judy said, nodding at the television set, "it looks like they're getting ready to mix Faison's brew..."
"Okay," said Tony, standing behind the bar with an assortment of cleaning solutions, "we've assembled all of the ingredients. How's the rest of the plan panning out?"
Mac and Taggert were hunched over a laptop computer. "We've posted our personal ad on the Port Charles Lonely Hearts Club page," said Taggert, "and then sent copies to rec.arts.music.mahler and alt.obsessive.danes. One of 'em should get a response."
"How do you know that?" asked Dara. "What if he's not interested?"
"If I know Faison, and I think I do, despite what my wife would have everyone think," said Mac, "he'll find it hard to resist this woman." He clicked the mouse and reopened the text file. "Listen to this: 'Do you dream as I do? In fits of film noir, serenaded by the strains of Mahler's 'Resurrection' symphony? Single female looking for a male companion to share dreams, visions and nights.' And it's signed Orchid@pcu.edu."
"Mac, you're a poet!" exclaimed AJ. "And here, all along, we thought Felicia was the writer...."
"Don't you think it's too perfect, though?" asked Justus. "Won't Faison be suspicious?"
"All the better if he is," replied Mac. "Faison loves playing games, the more dangerous the better. If he's baited, he'll nibble at the worm until the hook is clean. It's a huge power trip for him."
"Only this time, the worm will be packin' poison!" said Taggert.
Dara held up her hand. "Can we please stop with the worm thing? It's not a particularly flattering simile."
Justus reached over and patted Dara's shoulder. "Awww...is 'Orchid' feelin' a little droopy?"
"Maybe this'll cheer you up," said Taggert, responding to an incoming e-mail beacon. "I think your mystery date is signing in already...."
"You think it's him?" asked Tony.
AJ leaned in over the monitor. "Well, he says his name is 'Cesar' and his email address is Scorpiosux@PCPD.org...."
"Hey!" said Taggert. "How'd he get one of our accounts?"
Mac shook his head. "It figures. It's gotta be him." He typed in a brief message. "I'm asking him to meet 'Orchid' here at Luke's."
Tony rubbed his hands together and smiled. "I guess it's time to mix Faison's special cocktail," he said, and went about doing so, creating a pinkish, effervescent liquid. He held it up for inspection. "So, what do you guys think?" he said. "Will he drink it?"
"I don't see why not," said Taggert. "It kinda looks like champagne to me. You could mix it with some of that Dom Perignon stuff...."
AJ walked over and scrutinized the potion. "Hmmm...not Dom. I'd say the color and clarity are about equivalent to that of Moet and Chandon Imperial Rose, vintage 1990. And use a fluted glass, not a coupe; the bubbles will last longer, making it look freshly poured when he arrives."
"Alright!" said Mac. "I knew we'd find a good use for you, AJ!" He motioned to a table for two. "Let's get this table set and find a champagne bucket."
"Yeah, lucky for us all, I was a rich drunk," said AJ, with more than a touch of sarcasm. "The only thing is," he added, "if he's a real connoisseur, he might be able to taste the other ingredients."
"He's a cigar smoker, isn't he?" said Justus. "How about if Orchid offers him one first? It might help disguise the taste."
"Yeah," agreed Tony. "He smokes those thin cigars. I think Luke might have some in his office."
And so they went about setting the table for the faux romance. Candles, champagne, cigars, and, of course, a centerpiece of Cesar's favorite flowers, from which Dara plucked a single orchid blossom and placed it behind her ear.
"So, are you ready for this, Dara?" asked Taggert.
Dara took out her compact and studied her face in the mirror. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."
Tony walked over and placed two glasses of champagne on the table: one in front of Dara and the other by the pack of cigars. "Now remember," he said. "The potion with the poison's in the flute by the cheroots...."
Dara rolled her eyes. "Spare me the vaudeville, Tony...."
"Killjoy..." Tony muttered.
"Hey, I see him coming," said Justus, who had stationed himself by the door.
Mac put a reassuring hand on Dara's shoulder. "Be careful, okay? We'll be right in the next room listening, and watching his every move."
Dara managed a weak smile and took in a deep breath, preparing herself for the all-important meeting. Faison entered Luke's place and moved smoothly toward her, the dim room lights illuminating his features in a gradual manner. His hair was swept back into a simple pony-tail except for the wild mane of gray hair framing the sides of his face. His attire had a decidedly professorial look to it, with the slightly rumpled tweed suitcoat and the palate of mild earth tones exuding an air of innocuousness and perhaps even vulnerability. He tilted his head to one side as he approached, regarding her through slightly narrowed eyes, one corner of his mouth lapsing into a lop-sided smile. And at that moment, she knew that his clothing was merely a facade. She had become the vulnerable one.
"My dear Orchid, you look exquisite," he said, taking her hand and brushing it with his lips. "How fortunate that we have this entire place to ourselves for our first encounter."
"I'm friends with the owner," Dara lied, feeling strangely guilty for doing so.
"Ah, so you know Luke Spencer," he replied. "An interesting man, although not entirely reliable."
"You, of course, are very reliable..." she offered, trying to adopt a coy expression.
He smiled, inclining his head in an almost imperceptible nod. "In all things, my dear, in all things...."
She indicated the box of cheroots with a wave of her hand. "But you do share his love for cigars," she said.
"Yes," he replied, withdrawing one from the box. "And, I must add, that you have remarkable intuition." He lit the cigar and withdrew a breath, exhaling the smoke in a clean, diagonal line. "Or perhaps I am simply transparent...."
"Oh no!" she blurted. "Hardly! I - I just assumed...."
"A rather bold assumption," he said, the ember of his cigar cutting graceful spirals in the air as he gestured with his hands. "Smoking is not deemed 'politically correct' by you Americans."
"But you aren't an American," Dara replied. "I could tell by the syntax of your email. Your language seemed very...um ...old world to me."
"Yes, yes, of course," he said, bowing his head in a deferential manner. "You are quite the detective, my dear, to be able to ascertain so much from so little information." His gaze wandered from the champagne flute to the bottle resting in the ice bucket beside the table. "And what other assumptions have you made about me?" he asked, turning the label of the bottle so that he could read it. "Ah!" he smiled, "I am pleased with your selection. None of that pretentious Dom Perignon for us; ours is to be a simple meeting of like minds, not some fantastic staged event...."
"Oh man, he knows something's up," whispered AJ, his eyes glued to the security monitor in Luke's office.
"Of course he does," replied Mac. "But I'm banking on the fact that he thinks Dara is some law enforcement agent, sent undercover to gather information about him. It's just the sort of thing he'd expect me to try."
"Yeah, that's gotta be the oldest trick in the book," added Taggert. "A woman appears out of the blue, sympatico in every way, and immediately falls at his feet."
"Geez," remarked Justus, "What kind of idiot would buy into that one?"
"Want some more chexmix, Sonny?" Judy asked.
"Of course, the whole point is for him to think that's the plan," Mac explained. "Meanwhile, we just want him to drink the champagne...."
Sonny eyed the bowl with suspicion. "Why are you pushin' that on me?" he said. "Is there something in there...like in the champagne?"
Judy sighed and took a handful of the snack treat for herself. "Yeah, you're on to me, alright...."
Dara held her champagne glass poised to toast. "What shall we drink to?" she asked.
"How about to our dear departed friend, Gustav Mahler, who has done so much to bring the two of us together?" Faison replied.
"Yes," Dara agreed. "Perhaps to one of his symphonies...."
Cesar looked lost in thought for a moment. "Did you know--and I suppose you do, being as astute as you are--that Mahler abandoned what would have been his ninth symphony in the midst of its composition, fearing the 'Beethoven curse': that he would die after its completion. Later, however, he turned back to the symphonic form, composing a ninth symphony and even a portion of a tenth before he passed from this world." He rotated the goblet in his hands, watching the room lights play against the effervescent liquid. "What do you suppose changed his mind?" he mused.
"Maybe he felt that his ambition was stronger than fate...."
"Yes, yes, ambition...or perhaps a better word would be 'obsession'. But in the end, of course, his fate remained intact. Like Beethoven, he did not live to complete another symphony." He raised his glass and touched it to Dara's. "To Mahler's ninth," he said.
Dara smiled, feeling guilty as hell. "To Mahler's ninth..." she echoed.
"HAH! THEY DID IT!!" Judy cried, leaping to her feet and executing a football referee's 'touchdown' pose. "He drank the champagne!"
Luke, Sonny and Jason looked on in disbelief as Faison crumpled to the floor, incapacitated by the poison. He lay there utterly still, except for his eyes, which scanned the room, perhaps trying to ascertain the identities of Dara's accomplices.
Tony was the first of them on the scene, and if Faison was surprised by this, he was unable to express it. After performing a quick check of Cesar's vitals, Tony pronounced him stable, yet completely neutralized, in the same condition as Helena Cassadine.
"Let's get him over to the free clinic and then from there, I'll admit him into Mercy Hospital's long-term care facility," Tony instructed. "That way, we'll avoid any further entanglements with the CEO of General Hospital."
"You really think Stefan'd turn us in?" asked Justus. "After all, I think we just did him a favor...."
"A favor at his expense," corrected AJ, "And those Cassadines have quite a taste for revenge."
"Yeah, better safe than sorry," agreed Dara.
"I can't believe they pulled it off," said Luke, shaking his head in wonderment, "and with such a simple plan...."
Judy smiled. "I suppose that, compared to some of the convoluted stunts you guys have pulled, it was a simple plan: no flashy stunts, no trips to Mexico, no smuggling diamonds.... They used the tools already at hand."
"Yeah, but was that as entertaining?" asked Sonny.
"For me, it was," Judy replied. But then her smile vanished. "It's been fun gentlemen, but I'm afraid that it's back to reality for all of us." She approached her now-freed kidnap victims and shook their hands. "Have a safe trip back to Port Charles."
"But what am I gonna do?" Luke griped. "Faison was a huge part of my storyline...."
Judy glanced back at the television set, watching as her backburner gang loaded Faison into the back of Mac's SUV. "I wouldn't worry about that," she said. "Something tells me that Faison won't be down for long...."
And so, after her guests had left, Judy seated herself back on the couch and sighed in a rather melancholy fashion. "It was nice while it lasted," she said to her trio of cats, "but, unfortunately, tomorrow is another day...."
"Tomorrow on General Hospital," her TV intoned, displaying a brief montage of the usual stuff: Monica and Alan were grounding Emily yet again, Carly and Jason were exchanging longing looks on the docks while AJ stood by oblivious, his thoughts riveted to the enormity of his land-sea crane, and finally, there was a brief flash of the fully-recovered Helena, talking on the phone to some minion. "That's right," she was saying, "he's at Mercy Hospital. Give him the antidote and then inform him that my debt has been repaid...."
Soon, the slate would be wiped clean, the drama continuing on as if there had been no intervention. Was it really worth it? Judy smiled and raised the bowl of chexmix in a mock toast to the futile efforts of her no-story men.
"To Mahler's ninth symphony..." she said.