Rachel Bitterman listened intently to her voicemail.
YOU rejected ME.
Despite watching Moulin summon a small wave to drown some ducks earlier, Rachel couldn't believe all this silly talk about magic. Magic didn't exist.
Still, she had reappeared just when Rachel was starting to miss her the most.
For the record, I consider that flying pig to be a coincidence and not a sign from God!
She smirked.
She had gone to great lengths to obtain the Muppet Theater so that she could open a nightclub. It was dark, minimalist, seductive ... everything she thought Moulin would have enjoyed.
But she never came back.
She had called and called, only getting curt responses from some male personal assistant of hers who sounded like he had emphysema or something. Moulin never called back.
And now she knew why.
She had been attacked viciously because she was in love with Rachel. She had defended her lover with every fiber of her being to keep her safe. She had nearly given her life ... for someone all too willing to dump her to keep from addressing her issues.
Women were beginning to lead countries that weren't kingdoms starting in the mid-seventies. Rachel loved sitting down in front of her family's new color television set, squealing with delight over each of Charlie's Angels. They got what they wanted, exploiting men's wiles to their own advantage.
It was a lesson she never forgot growing up.
The way they moved, the way they acted ... it was ballet, at least for her. They could punch a guy out without breaking a nail.
They were perfect ... truly real angels sent from Heaven.
In 1977, Rachel defied her parents and skipped out one late night to watch a movie. It was so bawdy and bizarre that she immediately fell in love, singing loudly along with each and every song. Her heart raced as the antagonist, dressed in a black corset, hunted down the heroes.
The idea of meeting and being seduced by other-worldly creatures fascinated her.
And then her father found out when he opened her bedroom door, that she was rehearsing each inappropriate song in her bedroom, complete with rough costumes she made herself. She had been kissing a female doll lovingly, wishing that she could experience that self-same magic that had appeared onscreen.
The police had been called to the house due to the disturbance, with the father screaming and throwing her things out into the yard, aiming for her, as she bawled in the front lawn, dressed in very little. He called her so many names she had never even heard of before.
She was sent to boarding school for the next couple of years, prevented from returning home until she changed her ways.
Rachel sat at her desk for what seemed like an eternity.
She finally opened up a browser window on her computer and looked up air fares.
Pffbt. Tickets to California amounted to highway robbery.
Still ...
...
... she didn't want to be left alone crying in the yard anymore.