And The Winner Is...
by TheBucketWoman
Disclaimer: I have no claim on LWD or YouTube, iTunes, Little Shop of Horrors, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Barbie®, Harry Potter, Hairspray, or anything else I reference herein. These disclaimers are just getting longer and longer. Sorry about that.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Part One: Derek
Derek had not lifted his nose from its spot directly in front of his computer's screen for several hours, while Casey was at the mall. He sat down under the pretense of editing together more of his masterpiece, but had taken several breaks. Not all of them were spent looking at stuff on YouTube, he rationalized. Some of them were spent on iTunes.
At least one break, though, had been to send an email to one Dennis McDonald.
He wrote:
Your ridiculously gorgeous and talented daughter (she's not reading this over my shoulder, but she does have me well trained) will be starring in (God help us) Little Shop of Horrors, in a few days. She said she'd tell you about this, but knowing her, she didn't. Because she's neurotic.
See? Told you she's not reading over my shoulder.
My question is, how many copies of the upcoming DVD of the show, produced, directed and edited by...well...me can I put you down for?
Let me know what you think,
Derek.
Twenty minutes later, he got a reply.
Greetings, Creepy Boy Who Had Better Keep His Hands off of My Beautiful Daughter if He Knows What's Good for Him (I'm a pacifist but I can make certain exceptions, don't forget that), Dennis wrote.
Little Shop of Horrors, huh? God help us, indeed. When's Opening Night? I'm guessing Friday or Saturday. I think I can finagle a trip up there. Save a couple of tickets, would ya?
Don't tell her.
You know, I don't care what people say about you, Creepy, you're okay.
Dennis, father of those who must be obeyed.
Things were falling into place. Derek had even gotten the owner of Smelly Nellie's to take out a full page ad in the playbill, filling both his, and Casey's quotas. He'd even gotten the old man to spring for a couple of matinee tickets after Derek had reminded him of the charming girl who'd dumped ice water into his lap.
"I like the kid as long as she's not carrying beverages," he'd said.
"Me too," Derek said. "How bout a DVD?"
"Don't push your luck."
He went back to his editing avoidance for a bit, then did some actual editing. Then Casey poked her head into his room.
"You had better not be on YouTube when you're supposed to be working, Slacker Boy," she said.
"Who," Derek said. "Me? Work, work, work all day long."
"Uh-huh," Casey said, skeptically. "Maybe I should save this for later. It'll interrupt your groove."
"Save what for later?" Derek asked. Her face was giving nothing away. This could be something very good or very very bad, but suddenly he really wanted to know what it was.
"I don't know," she said, eyebrow up. "Aw, what the heck."
She opened the door the rest of the way revealing the littlest of little black dresses. It was a sixties style sleeveless dealie that made Derek think of old Barbie® dolls. The go go boots were the only things missing.
He stared at her, speechless for a second, one corner of his mouth slowly rising to a half smile.
"I don't like it," he said.
"What?" she said.
"I think you should take it off immediately," he said.
"What?!" Casey yelled. "De-rek, if you knew how damn long I walked around looking for this dress and it's not like you helped or...oh," She caught on.
"Nice try," she said.
"I thought so," he said. "Now come on, before you get it all wrinkled. Off with it." He reached for the zipper.
"De-rek!"
"I'm just trying to save ironing time," he said, starting to nuzzle. "I would've thought you'd be happy. No one ever appreciates how thoughtful I can be."
"No hickies," Casey said. "And I do know how thoughtful you can be, but what you're being right now is full of crap."
"But I'm cute," Derek said. "Riiight?"
"Yeah, okay," Casey said. "Maybe a little."
"Mhmmm," Derek said, reaching for the zipper again.
"We gotta get Marti," Casey said, pushing him back a little.
"Emily said she would," Derek said.
"What about Lizzie and Edwin?" Casey asked.
"They're at a movie," Derek said.
"Let me hang this up," Casey said.
"I have hangers here," Derek said. "Almost never used."
This time she let him get hold of the zipper.
Part Two: Edwin.
Edwin was learning that a very good way to get his girlfriend to forget about him was to take her to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Well, duh, amateur, his imaginary inner Derek said. You wanna make out, take her to a shitty movie, not one she actually wants to see!
He'd kinda liked the movie, too, in spite of himself. He'd probably always carry a little Emma Watson crush, but frankly he'd been just the tiniest bit disgusted when the theater erupted into hoots at the first shot of Daniel Radcliffe. Apparently the way to a teenage girl's heart involves posing shirtless in front of horses and releasing the pics to the Internet. Who knew it was that simple.
On the way out of the theater, Lizzie put an arm around him, breaking his train of thought. She was still a little cold from the air conditioner overload, and the feel of her arm on the back of his neck gave him the shivers.
"So," she said. "When do you think the DVD'll come out?"
"I dunno," Edwin said. "Christmas."
"Hmmm," Lizzie said. "We should go see it again, during the week, then."
He groaned. They got to the bus stop just as it was pulling up.
"How's that for timing?" he asked. "Our chariot awaits." He bowed at the waist and let Lizzie go first. One woman carrying huge bags of what looked like bedspreads rolled her eyes. Edwin let her pass, too.
For his trouble, he was given just enough time to pay his fare before the bus pulled abruptly away, knocking him into a pole and partially onto the lap of a very large and disgruntled looking man.
"My bad," he said, hoping the guy wouldn't pound him.
"Happens to the best of us," the guy said, adjusting the remains of his newspaper.
Edwin made his way to Lizzie, who'd taken one of the last seats.
"Here," Lizzie said, getting up.
"Nope," Edwin said.
"You've already fallen down once," Lizzie said.
"I'm used to it," he said. There were only about...ten stops to go. Nothing to it. The bedspread lady moved her bags nearby in case he needed to break his fall.
When Edwin and Lizzie got home, they found Casey sprawled across the couch, paperback in hand, girl music blaring from the stereo. They passed her on the way to the kitchen. On the way upstairs, Casey stopped them.
"What movie'd you see?" Casey asked.
"Harry Potter," Lizzie said.
"I wanted to see that," Casey said. "Why didn't you guys wait for me?"
"We can go again," Lizzie said.
"Go again, where?" Derek asked on his way downstairs.
"They saw Harry Potter!" Casey said.
Derek said, "Ron and Hermione get it on yet?"
"De-rek!"Casey yelped.
"Like you don't like watching em fight," Derek said.
"So do you," Casey said.
"Nah," Derek said. "I just wanna see what McGonagall and Filch got going on when no one's looking."
"Ew!" Lizzie said. Casey laughed.
"Dude, what?" Edwin said. "That could not be more random."
"Nope," Derek said. "Think about it. She can turn into a cat. He has a thing for cats. You know I'm right."
Edwin actually stopped to think about it for a minute, then decided to go upstairs and see if he couldn't wash his brain out with soap.
"Why do you smell like fruit punch?"Lizzie asked Derek.
"Ran outta shampoo, had to use you guys'" Derek said.
Edwin stopped on the stairs and looked at Casey, who, he just noticed also had wet hair. He put two and two together.
"Ugh," Lizzie said, under her breath.
"Exactly," Edwin said.
"Hey," Derek said. "Real men do not shy away from the fruity shampoo."
Edwin decided to let Derek pretend that that was what made him and Lizzie cringe. "Whatever you say, Dereka."
"That reminds me," Derek said. "Casey has informed me that I'm taking her to see Hairspray next week. Lizzie, do you think that you and Edwin would like to go?"
"Duh," Lizzie said.
"Crap," Edwin said.
"And because I'm such a great brother, the popcorn's on you," Derek said, grinning.
"Whatever," Edwin said. "I got stuff to do."
"Me too," Lizzie said.
"What kind of stuff?" Derek sing-songed.
"Stuff," Edwin said.
Derek raised an eyebrow.
"Get your mind out of the gutter," Lizzie said.
"But it's so comfortable there! Come on Liz," Derek said. "Haven't you ever heard the saying 'A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste?' I mean, they even put it on t-shirts."
"You're the Devil," Edwin said.
"That I am" Derek said, following them up.
"Um, Derek?" Edwin said. "What're you doing?"
"Me?" Derek said. "Nothin"
"Why are you following us?" Edwin said.
"Moi?" Derek said. "Okay, so I just wanna talk to you for a sec."
"Talk to me?" Edwin asked. This can't be good, Edwin thought.
"Well, Jeez, Ed, don't look at me like that," Derek said. "It's nothing bad."
"If you say so," Edwin said. "Lizzie?" He didn't want her to go far.
Derek held his door open for Lizzie and Edwin. Once the both of them perched uncomfortably on the edge of his bed, while Derek wheeled himself over in his computer chair. He raised a finger in the air and opened his mouth, about to make a pronouncement, but then stopped himself and wheeled himself back over to his desk. He rooted around in a drawer, and finding what he wanted, wheeled back.
"This," Derek said.
"It's a flyer," Edwin said, straightfaced. It was the ad for the film contest.
"We've seen this," Lizzie said.
"And?" Derek said.
"And?" Edwin said.
"Are you gonna freakin enter it or what?" Derek asked.
Lizzie shot Edwin a pointed look; Edwin was expressionless. "Are you?" Edwin asked.
"Um," Derek said. "Probably yeah."
"What do you mean probably?" Casey said from the doorway. "Do we have to go over that again?"
"Okay, okay! I'm entering!" Derek said. "Happy?"
"Yeah," Casey said. "For now. So? Edwin? What do you say?" She said all of this knowing full well that Edwin was entering. She also had a pretty good idea of what he was going to submit. Derek, however knew none of this. All told, Edwin thought that Casey was doing a pretty good job with the secret.
"We knew about this a couple weeks ago," Lizzie said. "Didn't we, Edwin?"
"Yeah, okay, we did," Edwin said.
"So what're you gonna enter?" Derek said.
"What're you gonna enter?"
"Are we gonna do this again?" Derek said. "I have some behind the scenes stuff that I'm cutting together. It should be funny. I hope. You've seen most of it already. I haven't seen any of yours."
"And you're not gonna," Edwin said. "Not yet."
"When?" Derek asked.
"Soon," Edwin evaded.
"Promise?" Casey asked.
"If you're good," Edwin said.
"You're not too big to noogie," Derek said.
"You're getting slow in your old age," Edwin said. Derek lunged for him, and Edwin took three huge strides to the door and ran like hell to his own room.
Part Three: Casey
"Yeah, he's gullible," Derek said. He leaned back in his chair briefly, catching himself before it tipped.
Pot, meet kettle, Casey thought. She pretended not to notice the way the chair had almost dumped him. He caught her eye and smiled like "that didn't happen" and she smiled back. Lizzie looked from one to the other and got up to leave.
"I'm just gonna...go," Lizzie said. "See if there are any cookies left."
"Ooh I want some," Casey said, following her out. Then she turned to Derek and said: "You got work to do before dinner."
She followed Lizzie down and when they got to the kitchen Lizzie said: "How much you wanna bet that Derek's freaking out right now?"
"Edwin too," Casey said. "Too bad we're out of cameras. We could get footage of the two of them doing the exact same thing and run them split screened."
"Sort of a behind-the-behind-the-scenes?" Lizzie said. "Or in Edwin's case, behind-the-behind-the-behind-the-scenes. I'm getting dizzy."
"One thing, though," Casey said. "How's Derek gonna react to Edwin's movie? I've pictured probably three different ways he can react and they all seem likely."
"How many of them end with Derek on trial for killing Edwin?"
"Most," Casey said. "No, I figure the first thing that'll happen is, he'll cringe when he hears his voice on tape. He's getting a real complex about it; I tell him he's nuts all the time. So far, he's cut out all of the footage that he was in."
"Derek did that?" Lizzie said.
"I know," Casey said. "I thought the heat was getting to him. He keeps saying stuff like 'the movie's not about me' and 'nobody wants to see me when they have dancing girls' and even six months ago, you know it would've been the opposite."
"Yeah," Lizzie agreed. "Who's that director that was in all of his own movies?"
"Take your pick," Casey said. "But I think you mean Hitchcock."
"Yeah, that's the guy. Used to introduce his own show, said 'Good Eve-ning' and made fun of his sponsors and stuff. That would've been Derek," Lizzie said. "Only bigger. It's kinda sad that he's not so hammy anymore."
"He'll get that back," Casey said. "Can't keep the Venturi ham gene down for long."
"I know," Lizzie said. "Look at Marti."
"He needs a kick start," Casey said. "And part of me is dying for him to see what Edwin shot, but I'm kinda scared, too."
"We still have some time to worry about that, though," Lizzie said. "It's not finished yet."
"Edwin has a decision to make," Casey said.
"What's that?" Lizzie asked.
"Whether to show it before or after he sends it out," Casey said.