JEM: The Man Behind
Jem and related characters are property of Hasbro.
I deserved better than this. I was top of my class at Miami of Ohio, and I played my cards right. I worked my way off the Raymond family farm in Iowa, got a six figure job with some guy named Emmet Benton in LA. Emmet- he was a good man. But his daughter- good Lord, his daughter! Little Jerrica Benton, Starlight CEO to be! Yeah, I'm a heartless corporate raider, but I didn't stoop to nepotism!
Jerrica's had it out for me the day she was born, I'm sure of it. Every "bring your kid to work day" until she was five, I got pink-slipped because precious little Jerrica was mad that I told her to slag off and get out of my office, and then Emmet hired me back the next week to repeat the process next year. And then there was Kimberly- good God, Kimberly Benton! Jacqui popped out that little brat right after her big sister had given me the axe for her third birthday, and she was even worse! I mean, at least Jerrica didn't use me as a teething aid- lo and behold, Kimberly did! I had to go the hospital to get the infection treated, and the doctor's not likely to believe you when you say you were bitten by your boss's baby!
And then came the foster kids, Aja and Shana. At least they were about Jerrica's age (six) and kept to themselves. But by far the worst were Emmet's friends. There was one man in particular who earned a special spot in my personal Hell- Edward Augutter. Or as the Benton brats called him, "Uncle Auger". I don't see what Emmet and Jacqui saw in him. The guy was a Golden Gloves champ- not the sort of guy you saw palling around with an egghead like Emmet.
And then there's now. Right before he kicked it, Emmet saw it fit to give me half his company. Naturally, I went searching for talent and found it in a local nightclub. They call themselves the Misfits, and I hate them.
Oh, they've got talent. It's just they're a pain in my ass. First up is their leader, one Phyllis Gabor, or "Pizzazz" as she likes to call herself. She's got a great voice and guitar, but she's a primadonna. Always whining about who she doesn't get paid enough, and how it's just not fair that she has to do an album every two or three months. Boo hoo, like I give a damn.
Then there's their songwriter, Mary Phillips- I mean "Stormer". Nicest woman I've ever met, and she won't get with the program. Always asking me for things like more creative control and a softer image- lady, you're a punk rocker. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.
Then there's the bassist, Roxanne Pellegrini. Useless all around. She can't read, can't write- all she can do is play her bass guitar. Not as bad the latest addition, Sheila Burns- or as she calls herself, "Jetta". I'd rather commit seppuku than have to deal with whatever problem she's got this week- rehab, Yakuza goons shaking me down for money to pay her drug debts, bail money, you name it.
And speaking of money, then there's COBRA. Lured me in with money for nothing right after I got my degree, and when I wake up from a chloroform nap, I find their sigil tattooed on chest and a piece of paper saying that I need to pay $100 a month or else. And then their head honcho Cobra Commander keeps calling me and demanding that I do him favors, and I can't get rid of these guys!
And to top it all off, the Benton brats grew up. Little Miss Pink-Slip Jerrica- I mean, Jessica got half the company to begin with, and then her little bubblegum band the Holograms- even the name sounds like something an idiot came up with- beat out the Misfits and get her my half of the company! Lucky me I got out of there before she could fire me for real this time, and I took the Misfits with me.
I deserved better than this.
