In the lowly Crosswire condominium, Muffy was browsing the web in earnest when the doorbell rang. She welcomed in her good friends Francine, Jenna, Van, and Beat.
"We heard what happened to your car," said Francine, "so we girls and honorary girls decided to come over and throw you a pity party."
"That's very kind of you," said Muffy. "Sit down, and I'll ask my mom to bring some treats."
Francine shot her a worried grimace.
"Store-bought treats," Muffy clarified.
"What a relief," said Van as he rolled into a corner.
"It's not that your mum can't cook," Beat said to Muffy. "It's just that…no matter what kind of cake she sets out to prepare, it ends up as black bottom cake."
"It's her specialty," said Muffy with a hint of sarcasm.
Francine and Jenna stepped forward. "We made a memorial for your limo in pottery class," said Jenna, holding up a monolithic clay sculpture. The face featured a drawing of a limousine and the words in memoriam.
"Oh, how thoughtful!" said Muffy, clasping her hands. "I'll put it on the dashboard of our new Lincoln Continental Mark VIII."
"Your dad bought a new limo already?" said Francine curiously.
"No," Muffy replied. "But I've been looking at all the different kinds of limousines on the Internet, and that's the one I want."
"Then you'll have to settle for a used one," said Mr. Crosswire, who was listening from the doorway to his bedroom. "Lincoln isn't producing Mark VIIIs anymore."
"Are you sure that's safe?" Beat asked Muffy. "President John F. Kennedy was assassinated while riding in a Lincoln Continental."
"Omigosh," said Muffy. "Is he okay?"
"I'm surprised you know that," Jenna remarked to Beat. "You're not even from this country. How did you get so smart?"
"It's a gift," said Beat, "and a curse."
"Speaking of smart," said Francine, "did you notice how Fern was answering more questions in class than usual?"
"Yeah, I noticed," said Van.
"She was acting differently as well," Beat recalled. "She was more serious and self-assured. She reminded me of myself when I was possessed by Mr. Putnam."
"You were…possessed?" Jenna marveled.
"It was part of a scientific experiment," Beat told her. "Mr. Putnam invented a device that would allow him to duplicate his consciousness in the mind of another person."
"It's like being two people at the same time," said Francine. "I had Sue Ellen in my head for a whole year."
"That's weird," said Jenna.
"I suppose things like that never happen to the kids in your class," said Francine to the cat girl.
"Nope," said Jenna in a carefree tone. "Just homework and tests. It's boring."
They'll never believe me if I tell them about the field trip where we were locked up in a Guatemalan prison for three days, she thought. I could have broken out at any time, but I didn't want to reveal to my friends that I am really…Radioactive Squid Woman!
"You don't suppose Fern's possessed," said Van suspiciously.
"By who?" said Muffy with a grin. "Professor Frink?"
"If that were true, she'd say glavin all the time," said Francine, chuckling.
"That must be an American expression," said Beat. "I never heard it in England. What does it mean?"
While Van and the girls were struggling to find a definition for the mysterious word glavin, Fern was sitting calmly in the reception area of Marymu Studios, where New Moo Revue and other quality children's programs were produced. The two personalities within her mind, her own and Tegan's, continued to debate whether her decision was correct, but Tegan's arguments were better reasoned and more convincing. Hence, she was determined to put an end to a chapter of her life.
Through the glass doors stepped a poodle boy who wore thick glasses. He appeared to be a year younger than Fern, who smiled gleefully at the sight of him.
"Good to see you again, Wyatt," she said without rising.
"Yeah, long time no see," the boy responded. "So what did you want? My moms are waiting in the car."
"They'll be waiting for a long time," said Fern, leaping to her feet. Wyatt tried to wiggle free while she dragged him by the hand through the corridor that led to the sound stage.
On the gaudily-colored set that resembled a country garden, four young children were seated on chairs to one side. They chatted about their favorite sports teams and pop singers while awaiting the arrival of Mary Moo Cow and her entourage.
"I'm tellin' ya, there's no way the Elwood City Grebes can beat the Pittsburgh Pirates," said one of the boys.
"The Pirates?" retorted a girl. "Are you kiddin'? The only thing the Pirates are good at is recognizin' talent…and sellin' it to other teams."
"One dollar says the Pirates'll win," said the boy, flashing a bill.
"That's chump change," the girl countered. "Make it five dollars."
"Places, everyone," came a woman's commanding voice. Jean Stiles had arrived on the set, dressed neck to toe in her Mary Moo Cow costume, clutching the bulky cow's head mask under her arm. Behind her, Binky was practicing a grand jeté inside his Mini Moo suit.
As the child actors assumed their positions under the hot lights, Mrs. Stiles looked over at the recording booth. "Where's Fern?" she asked Binky.
"I dunno," the boy answered. "She said she was waiting for someone."
An instant later Fern burst through the stage door, the reluctant Wyatt in tow. "Here I am," she informed Mrs. Stiles.
While the polar bear woman attached the Mary Moo Cow head to her body, Binky pulled off his clownish mask to have a better look at the visiting boy. "Who's the dork?" he asked Fern.
"His name's Wyatt Holberg," Fern explained. "I met him when we were trying out for the Mini Moo voice role. And he's not a dork."
Binky shrugged. "Whatever."
"Get ready to record, Fern," said Mrs. Stiles, waving her thick cow hand.
"Not this time," said the poodle girl. "I'm quitting the show."
Binky and Mrs. Stiles glared at her.
"From now on, the voice of Mini Moo will be provided by Wyatt," Fern announced.
The bespectacled boy's jaw echoed as it hit the floor.
"Let's get serious, Fern," said Mrs. Stiles, her voice dying from the speakers as she removed her cow head. "We have an episode to make."
"It was a pleasure working with you, Jean," said Fern in a sober tone.
As she strode off the stage, Binky walked closer to Wyatt and eyed him inquisitively. "So," he asked, "do you like wrestling?"
to be continued