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toxic_cornSo the big winner in the poll has been Your Boyfriend Snorts Cocaine, Mary Anne. Since the story is co-written, Nutmeg has done the commentary with me. Our comments are in italics and noted with an N or T. Also, we're not doing commentary for the whole story, just selected chapters. Here's our take on Chapter One!
All disclaimers and explanations for this story can be found here.
Your Boyfriend Snorts Cocaine, Mary Anne
Toxic: Hey guys, commentary's started, woo hoo! Now how the hell did
we think of pairing Chad Shelten up with Mary Anne Spier of all people?
Well, I think it started with a discussion of old tv shows we watched as
kids. One of us brought up the Babysitters Club and I expressed
disappointment over the Mary Anne chosen. She was Cabbage Patch doll-like
and gross and just not cute at all. I said, "Too bad Summer Glau couldn't
have played her." Then since Summer always has to paired up with Adam in
Numeg's mind, and we were currently into Day Break, linking her up with Chad
Shelten was suggested. We both laughed at the notion and jokingly
suggested he pull her over for speeding. Eventually we got semi-serious
and decided to write this thing. I came up with an outline and Nutmeg
played Chad perfectly to my Mary Anne.
As for the title, we knew Mary Anne's name had to be in there somewhere,
like in the original series. And it needed to be kind of hokey, too. We
were stuck between Freeze, Mary Anne! and Mary Anne's Whirlwind Romance when
Nutmeg suggested Your Boyfriend Snorts Cocaine, Mary Anne. Around the time
I recovered from my giggle fit, it became the official title.
CHAPTER ONE
In the movies when someone says "Things can't get any worse," they always
do. I've seen thousands of movies; why haven't I learned this lesson
yet?!
- a page from the diary of Mary Anne Spier
Toxic: These little snippets we have in the beginning are a nod to the
original books. Some chapters began with an entry from the Babysitter's
Club Notebook in the club member's own handwriting.
Nutmeg: Normally they wrote in the book to let the other babysitters
know how the babysitting job went, or any problems they were having with a
certain kid, but I'm sure it was done so the author could show us how bad
Claudia's spelling really was, or that Stacey dotted her 'i's' with
hearts.
"Oh no!" Mary Anne stared at her alarm clock in horror. 8:24, it said, with
no explanation for not waking her up two hours and twenty-four minutes ago.
She leapt out of bed and ran to her closet, randomly grabbing garments and
throwing them on.
T: I think what happened was she accidentally programmed her clock for
PM instead of AM after a power outage or something. That's what happens
when I end up late, at least.
Forget the shower, teeth brushing, makeup. No time!
Mary Anne hopped into the kitchen, tying her shoelaces. She grabbed her
keys from the ceramic plate on the counter, squeaking out a hi to her
step-sister seated on the counter with a bowl of granola in her lap.
Dawn blinked blearily at the clock. "Don't you have a class in half an
hour?"
"Yes!" Mary Anne slipped her bag over her shoulder as she opened the front
door.
"Isn't it with the professor who really hates tardy-"
"Yes!" Slamming the door to their apartment, she dashed down the
steps to the parking lot and piled into her car.
That alarm clock had been giving her trouble for months. Why hadn't she
replaced it? Because it had never been an issue before; Tigger usually
woke her up wanting to be fed.
Pulling on to the street, Mary Anne managed a soft sound of pity for her
beloved cat. The day before, she and Dawn had found Tigger trying to pee
all over the apartment. When they tried to pick him up to take him to his
litter box, he had yowled in pain. A trip to the vet revealed that
Tigger's urethra had gotten blocked. It would take four hundred dollars to
get it unblocked. Four hundred dollars Mary Anne couldn't afford to part
with but was more than willing to for Tigger's sake.
T: My own cat has the blocked urethra problem. So far it's happened
twice. I gave poor Tigger this malady because it's pretty non-lethal if you
catch it in time but it's enough to send tender-hearted Mary Anne into a
tizzy. I wanted to heap as much stress on her as I could to fully justify
the tears later…
Mary Anne got onto the freeway and tensed up. She loved Los Angeles almost
as much as Dawn did, but she was never going to love its freeway with its
crazy drivers and unreliable road construction and the horrible traffic
jams. That's why she usually left early to avoid the worst of that stuff
and get to her class on time.
T: I don't drive. I hate it, hate it, hate it.
N: Neither do I. I hate taking the bus, but if I drove I'd probably
crash into a tree...in the desert. Oh yes, I'd find one.
Oh god, Dr. Ewing's class. The TA who taught it was so condescending and
always put late students on the spot. From day one Mary Anne and the rest
of the class had made sure to show up at the least ten minutes early, after
the five-minute brow beating one unfortunate soul had received.
T: Dr. Ewing is named after a science teacher I loathed. He was in his
fifties and in such good shape that he liked to rub it in. Everyday he
found some way to mention his house in Barbados and his "lady friend" there.
God, what a douche.
All through her stressful thoughts, Mary Anne unconsciously pressed the
accelerator more and more.
~*~
Chad Shelten glared out the window while telling himself he wasn't pouting.
He was brooding. And imagining getting his hands on the little bastards
who'd vandalized his shiny black SUV. He'd gotten the point when they'd
slashed his tires, but scratching PIG into the door was overkill.
Now here he was getting a ride from some kid just out of the academy. Chad
was pretty sure if he reached over behind the kid's ears, his fingers would
come away wet.
When he'd called the station to report the incident and request a ride,
they'd said this patroller was all they could spare but Chad was no dummy;
he'd heard snickering on the other line. Maybe he should've called a cab.
T: Ha, the other cops hate Chad. That's what happens when you're in
Internal Affairs. And kind of a dickweed.
"Sorry, Detective Shelten," the young officer said nervously. "We got a
speeding vehicle up ahead; it's going to take a little longer getting you
back to the station."
A speed freak, huh? A wicked smile crossed Chad's face at the thought of
letting off some steam. "Great. Long as I get to do the walk-up."
"But sir-"
"Do you really want a problem with IA, son?!"
Sighing, the officer turned on the siren.
~*~
"Oh, no!" Mary Anne glanced in the rearview mirror, horrified to see
flashing police lights. She never broke the law! It figured that
the one time she did, she'd get caught.
Shaking, she pulled off onto the shoulder and waited. Did the police stay
in their cruisers so long just to get motorists into a panic? If so, they
were doing a good job. Mary Anne took deep breaths, trying to get herself
to calm down.
After what felt like a million years, one of the police car's doors opened
and a large man in a suit stepped out.
Oh no, was he FBI?! Well, she didn't have any drugs, illegal immigrants, or
aliens in the back seat so maybe she'd be okay.
The man approached the car and stood outside her window a minute. What was
he waiting for?
He bent and tapped the window with his badge and made a gesture miming
rolling down a window.
Ooops. Blushing, she did so.
"Well now," he said, tone falsely jovial. "Using the wonders of
mathematics, how many miles over the speed limit were you going?"
T: I remember Nutmeg pitching this line to me. This was before we'd
started the back and forth dialogue in chat and it made me laugh for a full
minute.
N: There are some lines I write in fics that I can't help but get a smug
satisfaction about. This is one of those lines.
To her horror, Mary Anne burst into tears.
~*~
Chad blinked at the girl in surprise. In his experience, crying was all
too common among speeders who were pulled over, particularly women. And
yeah, he knew he could be an asshole, but this had been him being nice.
To her credit, the girl looked angry to be crying. Her fists clenched on
the wheel and she bit her lip to better contain her tears.
"License and registration, miss," Chad said, his words clipped.
The girl pulled the papers out of the glove compartment without a big search
and rooted through her purse for her license. She handed the articles over
without so much as sparing him a glance.
"Here," she muttered. "Just don't make fun of me anymore."
She photographed well. Chad barely glanced at the registration as he
admired her picture; she was all shy smiles and long dark hair. "Where were
you headed in such a hurry, Ms. Spier?"
"I'm late for class," she said, tightly.
"Yeah? UCLA?"
She nodded and gave him an odd look.
"Got a major yet?"
"Elementary education." The odd look had turned into full blown What is
your malfunction, mister? that women were so good at.
T: That line reminds me of the "What is your major malfunction,
numbnuts?" line from Full Metal Jacket. Which I haven't seen. I should get
on that, if I want to be a self-respecting Adam Baldwin fan. But of course
Mary Anne's far too well brought up to use the word "numbnuts."
N: I saw the second half of FMJ. Pretty good, I thought. Anyways,
don't we have her call him a fucktard at some point, or is that in something
we haven't posted yet? Flithy mouthed Miss Spier...
Chad snorted. "You're a brave woman. Have you ever been pulled over
before, Ms. Spier?"
T: Chad doesn't like children. Unless they're his own. Whoops,
spoiler! Bah, if you're reading this, chances are you've already read the
Chary Anne stories. If not, um. Sorry.
"No, sir," she said firmly.
"Well, considering this is your first offense, I'll let you go with a
warning." He handed back her license and registration and didn't let go
until she turned her pretty, puzzled face up at him. "Besides, it's not my
job to give you a ticket. I'm IA."
She stared at him blankly.
"Internal Affairs," he clarified. "Like on all those cop shows, you know?"
"I don't really watch those." She put her papers away, back to not looking
at him.
N: That makes two of us. Bleh.
"That's probably a good idea," Chad said thoughtfully. "They give civilians
an over-inflated sense of what police work is all about."
For some reason, that got a smile out of her and he found himself smiling
back. He patted the top of the car. "Well, have a nice day, Mary Anne."
"Thank you, officer." Even with her face still a little red and puffy from
crying, she looked beautiful when she smiled.
T: This is not me Mary Sue-ing her. It's canon that Mary Anne has a
beautiful smile. Whenever Logan got to tell a story from his point of view,
he made a point to wax poetic about Mary Anne's smile. It's almost enough
to make you barf.
N: It's pretty common knowledge that Logan was so far in the closet he
was finding Christmas presents. Poor boy was just dating Mary Anne so he
didn't get his Southern Fried ass whooped. *shakes head sadly*
All disclaimers and explanations for this story can be found here.
Your Boyfriend Snorts Cocaine, Mary Anne
Toxic: Hey guys, commentary's started, woo hoo! Now how the hell did
we think of pairing Chad Shelten up with Mary Anne Spier of all people?
Well, I think it started with a discussion of old tv shows we watched as
kids. One of us brought up the Babysitters Club and I expressed
disappointment over the Mary Anne chosen. She was Cabbage Patch doll-like
and gross and just not cute at all. I said, "Too bad Summer Glau couldn't
have played her." Then since Summer always has to paired up with Adam in
Numeg's mind, and we were currently into Day Break, linking her up with Chad
Shelten was suggested. We both laughed at the notion and jokingly
suggested he pull her over for speeding. Eventually we got semi-serious
and decided to write this thing. I came up with an outline and Nutmeg
played Chad perfectly to my Mary Anne.
As for the title, we knew Mary Anne's name had to be in there somewhere,
like in the original series. And it needed to be kind of hokey, too. We
were stuck between Freeze, Mary Anne! and Mary Anne's Whirlwind Romance when
Nutmeg suggested Your Boyfriend Snorts Cocaine, Mary Anne. Around the time
I recovered from my giggle fit, it became the official title.
In the movies when someone says "Things can't get any worse," they always
do. I've seen thousands of movies; why haven't I learned this lesson
yet?!
- a page from the diary of Mary Anne Spier
Toxic: These little snippets we have in the beginning are a nod to the
original books. Some chapters began with an entry from the Babysitter's
Club Notebook in the club member's own handwriting.
Nutmeg: Normally they wrote in the book to let the other babysitters
know how the babysitting job went, or any problems they were having with a
certain kid, but I'm sure it was done so the author could show us how bad
Claudia's spelling really was, or that Stacey dotted her 'i's' with
hearts.
"Oh no!" Mary Anne stared at her alarm clock in horror. 8:24, it said, with
no explanation for not waking her up two hours and twenty-four minutes ago.
She leapt out of bed and ran to her closet, randomly grabbing garments and
throwing them on.
T: I think what happened was she accidentally programmed her clock for
PM instead of AM after a power outage or something. That's what happens
when I end up late, at least.
Forget the shower, teeth brushing, makeup. No time!
Mary Anne hopped into the kitchen, tying her shoelaces. She grabbed her
keys from the ceramic plate on the counter, squeaking out a hi to her
step-sister seated on the counter with a bowl of granola in her lap.
Dawn blinked blearily at the clock. "Don't you have a class in half an
hour?"
"Yes!" Mary Anne slipped her bag over her shoulder as she opened the front
door.
"Isn't it with the professor who really hates tardy-"
"Yes!" Slamming the door to their apartment, she dashed down the
steps to the parking lot and piled into her car.
That alarm clock had been giving her trouble for months. Why hadn't she
replaced it? Because it had never been an issue before; Tigger usually
woke her up wanting to be fed.
Pulling on to the street, Mary Anne managed a soft sound of pity for her
beloved cat. The day before, she and Dawn had found Tigger trying to pee
all over the apartment. When they tried to pick him up to take him to his
litter box, he had yowled in pain. A trip to the vet revealed that
Tigger's urethra had gotten blocked. It would take four hundred dollars to
get it unblocked. Four hundred dollars Mary Anne couldn't afford to part
with but was more than willing to for Tigger's sake.
T: My own cat has the blocked urethra problem. So far it's happened
twice. I gave poor Tigger this malady because it's pretty non-lethal if you
catch it in time but it's enough to send tender-hearted Mary Anne into a
tizzy. I wanted to heap as much stress on her as I could to fully justify
the tears later…
Mary Anne got onto the freeway and tensed up. She loved Los Angeles almost
as much as Dawn did, but she was never going to love its freeway with its
crazy drivers and unreliable road construction and the horrible traffic
jams. That's why she usually left early to avoid the worst of that stuff
and get to her class on time.
T: I don't drive. I hate it, hate it, hate it.
N: Neither do I. I hate taking the bus, but if I drove I'd probably
crash into a tree...in the desert. Oh yes, I'd find one.
Oh god, Dr. Ewing's class. The TA who taught it was so condescending and
always put late students on the spot. From day one Mary Anne and the rest
of the class had made sure to show up at the least ten minutes early, after
the five-minute brow beating one unfortunate soul had received.
T: Dr. Ewing is named after a science teacher I loathed. He was in his
fifties and in such good shape that he liked to rub it in. Everyday he
found some way to mention his house in Barbados and his "lady friend" there.
God, what a douche.
All through her stressful thoughts, Mary Anne unconsciously pressed the
accelerator more and more.
Chad Shelten glared out the window while telling himself he wasn't pouting.
He was brooding. And imagining getting his hands on the little bastards
who'd vandalized his shiny black SUV. He'd gotten the point when they'd
slashed his tires, but scratching PIG into the door was overkill.
Now here he was getting a ride from some kid just out of the academy. Chad
was pretty sure if he reached over behind the kid's ears, his fingers would
come away wet.
When he'd called the station to report the incident and request a ride,
they'd said this patroller was all they could spare but Chad was no dummy;
he'd heard snickering on the other line. Maybe he should've called a cab.
T: Ha, the other cops hate Chad. That's what happens when you're in
Internal Affairs. And kind of a dickweed.
"Sorry, Detective Shelten," the young officer said nervously. "We got a
speeding vehicle up ahead; it's going to take a little longer getting you
back to the station."
A speed freak, huh? A wicked smile crossed Chad's face at the thought of
letting off some steam. "Great. Long as I get to do the walk-up."
"But sir-"
"Do you really want a problem with IA, son?!"
Sighing, the officer turned on the siren.
"Oh, no!" Mary Anne glanced in the rearview mirror, horrified to see
flashing police lights. She never broke the law! It figured that
the one time she did, she'd get caught.
Shaking, she pulled off onto the shoulder and waited. Did the police stay
in their cruisers so long just to get motorists into a panic? If so, they
were doing a good job. Mary Anne took deep breaths, trying to get herself
to calm down.
After what felt like a million years, one of the police car's doors opened
and a large man in a suit stepped out.
Oh no, was he FBI?! Well, she didn't have any drugs, illegal immigrants, or
aliens in the back seat so maybe she'd be okay.
The man approached the car and stood outside her window a minute. What was
he waiting for?
He bent and tapped the window with his badge and made a gesture miming
rolling down a window.
Ooops. Blushing, she did so.
"Well now," he said, tone falsely jovial. "Using the wonders of
mathematics, how many miles over the speed limit were you going?"
T: I remember Nutmeg pitching this line to me. This was before we'd
started the back and forth dialogue in chat and it made me laugh for a full
minute.
N: There are some lines I write in fics that I can't help but get a smug
satisfaction about. This is one of those lines.
To her horror, Mary Anne burst into tears.
Chad blinked at the girl in surprise. In his experience, crying was all
too common among speeders who were pulled over, particularly women. And
yeah, he knew he could be an asshole, but this had been him being nice.
To her credit, the girl looked angry to be crying. Her fists clenched on
the wheel and she bit her lip to better contain her tears.
"License and registration, miss," Chad said, his words clipped.
The girl pulled the papers out of the glove compartment without a big search
and rooted through her purse for her license. She handed the articles over
without so much as sparing him a glance.
"Here," she muttered. "Just don't make fun of me anymore."
She photographed well. Chad barely glanced at the registration as he
admired her picture; she was all shy smiles and long dark hair. "Where were
you headed in such a hurry, Ms. Spier?"
"I'm late for class," she said, tightly.
"Yeah? UCLA?"
She nodded and gave him an odd look.
"Got a major yet?"
"Elementary education." The odd look had turned into full blown What is
your malfunction, mister? that women were so good at.
T: That line reminds me of the "What is your major malfunction,
numbnuts?" line from Full Metal Jacket. Which I haven't seen. I should get
on that, if I want to be a self-respecting Adam Baldwin fan. But of course
Mary Anne's far too well brought up to use the word "numbnuts."
N: I saw the second half of FMJ. Pretty good, I thought. Anyways,
don't we have her call him a fucktard at some point, or is that in something
we haven't posted yet? Flithy mouthed Miss Spier...
Chad snorted. "You're a brave woman. Have you ever been pulled over
before, Ms. Spier?"
T: Chad doesn't like children. Unless they're his own. Whoops,
spoiler! Bah, if you're reading this, chances are you've already read the
Chary Anne stories. If not, um. Sorry.
"No, sir," she said firmly.
"Well, considering this is your first offense, I'll let you go with a
warning." He handed back her license and registration and didn't let go
until she turned her pretty, puzzled face up at him. "Besides, it's not my
job to give you a ticket. I'm IA."
She stared at him blankly.
"Internal Affairs," he clarified. "Like on all those cop shows, you know?"
"I don't really watch those." She put her papers away, back to not looking
at him.
N: That makes two of us. Bleh.
"That's probably a good idea," Chad said thoughtfully. "They give civilians
an over-inflated sense of what police work is all about."
For some reason, that got a smile out of her and he found himself smiling
back. He patted the top of the car. "Well, have a nice day, Mary Anne."
"Thank you, officer." Even with her face still a little red and puffy from
crying, she looked beautiful when she smiled.
T: This is not me Mary Sue-ing her. It's canon that Mary Anne has a
beautiful smile. Whenever Logan got to tell a story from his point of view,
he made a point to wax poetic about Mary Anne's smile. It's almost enough
to make you barf.
N: It's pretty common knowledge that Logan was so far in the closet he
was finding Christmas presents. Poor boy was just dating Mary Anne so he
didn't get his Southern Fried ass whooped. *shakes head sadly*
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Date: 2007-09-06 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-07 05:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-07 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-07 06:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-07 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-06 08:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-07 05:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-07 10:59 pm (UTC)It's pretty common knowledge that Logan was so far in the closet he was finding Christmas presents.
Okay you've pretty much summed up my feelings about Simon Tam with this line, lol!
And you haven't watched FMJ!?!?!?! How can this be? You need to be exposed to the fantastic awesomeness that is Lee Ermey and the grunting sweaty bulging bicepliness that is Animal Mother *fans* Mmmm, Animal Mother...
no subject
Date: 2007-09-08 04:44 am (UTC)Nope, I haven't seen Full Metal Jacket. I've seen clips on YouTube but Adam's character was so painfully slow that I got embarrassed and hid my face in a pillow, blushing. So um. I can try again another time with the volume muted.