Hey! Sorry I'm just a bit later than promised, but the beach was calling my name today and it was so beautiful… so I gave in. Give me a break! I only have week left of summer people! I also would have written it earlier tonight, but it was the premier of High School Musical 2! You didn't honestly expect me to miss that did you?! ( I wish sarcasm translated to paper better… but in all honestly… that is what I did instead. Sad. Pathetic woman. I just happen to have a crush on Zac Efron and you will too when you see Hairspray. And while we're on the topic… what the hell happened to Zac's K? Did he lose it?)

Ok. Carly and Danny (Minus the Danny). We're getting rather close to the end here. It is called Abbreviated for a reason…

Anyway I have another parody on the cusp of my brain. "Fitzwilliam Darcy: Former Child Star" What do you think?... Hmm.

Pride and Prejudice: Abbreviated and Un-fabricated

If two wrongs make a right, then a wrong and an airplane obviously make a chapter in this very short story. We'll call it a stairplane! Yeah, that's catchy.

"And then Miranda said LEAVE! Although it was really more of a shout. But that's Miranda. She's kind of domineering and a bit scary… but on the plus side she looks really good in dresses. And she has nice calves. I'm really jealous of Miranda's calves."

"Fascinating."

Don't you just hate it when you're trying to tell someone a story and they just refuse to listen? I'd been trying to explain to this guy beside me, on the airplane, for about two hours why I'm going to France, but he just seems to refuse to listen.

But I refused to let him deter me. "So now I'm going to France to meet up with a guy who I'm pretty sure hates me, and I am like so freaking nervous."

"Poor guy," the man drawled and tried, once again to focus on his book. I mean honestly! Who even bothers to read…? War and Peace? What's that? Another book about George Bush? Who reads that kind of stuff?

"You're not even listening to me, are you?" I asked as he shoved his face further into his voluminous book on George Bush. If he got any closer he would have to write himself into it.

"Trust me, sweetheart, I am trying with all my might not to." I really do not like this guy. But, fortunately for him- because I was about to break out those pink, fuzzy handcuffs that Miranda had sent with me to make sure my meeting with Danny was memorable- the lady on my other side seemed right interested in my tale.

"You poor thing," she sighed as she pulled out her in-flight magazine and smiled very sweetly. So sweetly in fact that I'm convinced she's related to Sarah Golden in some way. Or possibly Santa Clause. Well- why not? He's a right jolly fellow! Or so I hear…

I smiled back, but my ears were beginning to suffer from the pressure of the altitude and it was giving me a headache and making me a bit queasy.

"You must be so nervous to see him again. Do you know what you're going to say?" she asked sweetly as she absent-mindedly completed someone's old Sudoku.

I shrugged. "I was thinking something along the lines of: Hi I'm Carly. Remember me? The bitch that sold you out to my ex-editor? Yes, well I'm here and I come bearing handcuffs- so be nice Danny!"

The woman hesitated. I think she thought I was serious. In truth, I was about as serious as Larry is alive. Poor Larry. Being this high in the sky reminds me of him and his unfulfilled dream of going into outer space. Oddly enough, it also makes me think about the mile high club. Larry the six legged octopus and the mile high club. A direct connection if you ask me.

The man beside me laughed. I figured he was at the part in George Bush's career where Dick Cheney took over the country. That part makes me laugh too. But mostly only because his name in Dick. Haha! Gets me every time.

"You're really going to say that to him?" the man asked, setting aside the life of George and staring at me.

"I don't recall you being invited into this conversation," I stated with a sneer.

"That's funny because I feel as though I've been dragged into this conversation, kicking and screaming," he said back.

"You really shouldn't scream. We're in a confined space."

He laughed. "You're an interesting person." My eyebrows shot up, but he reassured me quickly. "And I find you to be rather annoying, but seeing as we have-" he checked his watch- "at least six more hours on this flight before you go and make a complete fool out of yourself, and- knowing my luck- I'll end up stuck beside you on the return flight, I feel obligated to help you."

"Maybe I don't want you help," I shot back. Those handcuffs were burning a hole in my pocket. Seriously, how does Miranda get anything done? If I were her, I'd just spend all day handcuffing people to immovable objects and losing the key.

"Considering how much you seem to like this guy- I think that you do want my help." He picked back up his book and immersed himself once again. "But if you don't want my help…" his voice floated up from the pages. It was a bit of an odd effect… as if a book were talking to me. A book about George Bush nonetheless.

"I don't like Danny!" I protested indignantly.

"Then why did you just spend the last two hours forcing me to listen to a story about him?" I didn't like this guy. How dare he say…?

"It's because he's my boss!"

"Sweetheart," the nice lady prodded. "It does sound as if you're falling for this guy, boss or not." Oh this woman was such a bitch!

"You got it bad," the rude man said, still staring intently into his book. "Just admit it."

I stood up in my tiny little airplane seat- managing to elbow the Nice Lady (who doesn't live up to her reputation) and smack the Rude Man in the face on my way up. (Accidentally, of course…) "Listen! You two don't know a thing!" I shouted while Nice Lady held her arm where I'd elbowed her and Rude Man held his face from where I'd hit him. "Danny is my boss! I can't like him because he's rude and dark… and so what that he knows what my favorite candy is, and keeps them handy, and thinks I'm interesting even though I'm a bit crazy? It doesn't matter that he's really cute and that I constantly wonder if he's a good kisser! Want to know why it doesn't matter? Because I don't LIKE HIM! And even if I did… this wouldn't be a revelation brought on by a pseudo-nice lady and a rude man who reads books about George Bush!"

I sat back down, feeling very proud. Nice Lady bit her lip and resumed her Sudoku, and Rude Man brought his hand away from his red face to reveal a cocky smirk. I contemplated the way they both seemed so proud of themselves and then it hit me…

Oh God! I like Danny Dardy!