The Emmy

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Kate sat comfortably in her bed, resting her back against the headboard, the down comforter pulled up to her waist, and the recent release of a New York Times Best Seller Murder Mystery in her hands. It was nearly two in the morning, but she was so engrossed in the book, sleep was not even a consideration.

But even Kate's best laid plans were often thwarted, and more often than not the culprits were two fictitious cowboys who were never more than a fleeting thought away...

"What are you reading?" Hannibal Heyes asked without prior announcement of his presence.

In the midst of a very suspense filled chapter, Kate visibly startled at the unexpected sound of the uninvited visitor.

"It's the new best seller called 'Beyond the Sunset,'" Kate told him, offering no reproach to his uninvited presence.

"I figured you for more of a Mark Twain reader," Heyes replied.

"For your information, I've read the Complete Works of Mark Twain," she said. "Twice," she added for emphasis.

"No need to get proddy."

Kate sighed and closed the book with a loud snap. "How about we just cut to the chase and you boys tell me why you are here at two in the morning."

"We just have a quick question," Kid explained. "Now scoot over in the bed and let me sit down."

Kate eyed him dubiously and didn't budge so much as an inch.

Kid sighed with some exasperation, fully aware of what Kate was thinking. "Hey, you write this stuff, I don't," he told her. You stay under the covers and I'll sit on top," he told her. "Of the covers," he added.

Kate gathered the sheet and the comforter and scooted to the far side of the bed, and Kid sat down, swung his legs up on the bed, clasped his hands behind his head, and leaned back against the headboard. "Go on, Heyes, ask her."

Heyes looked a bit scornful at his partner, then cleared his voice nervously. "What's an Emmy Award?" he asked.

"An Emmy?" Kate repeated.

"Yeah. Them alter egos were bouncing off the walls with excitement cause of something they called an Emmy nomination."

Kate smiled. "What episode is being nominated?"

"Episode?" they asked in unison.

"Every week or so there's a new... challenge the two of you have to face. Each one of those challenges is called an episode. So which challenge was nominated for an Emmy?" Kate asked.

Kid and Heyes looked at each other with perplexed expressions.

"The alter egos weren't real clear on that, but I think it's the one where someone recognizes us," Kid said, hoping that told Kate whatever it was she was asking.

"That's every episode," Kate replied. "So what category is being nominated?"

"Uh?" Kid asked.

"He means, what is a category?" Heyes explained.

"There's lots of categories. There's best actor, best director, best cinematography, best costume, best music, best writing, best supporting actor, best..."

"Hold your horses, Kate. We get the picture," Heyes said, effectively cutting her off. "And I think you're just as excited as the alter egos."

"Well, it is exciting, Heyes. An Emmy is to television what an Oscar is to movies, or a Tony is to theater."

"Again, you lost us when you got to television," Heyes told her.

"No Heyes, she lost us when she started rambling about an Emmy," Kid said.

"Let me put this another way," Kate said. "An Emmy means as much to an actor as an amnesty means to you."

"So an Emmy keeps an actor outta prison?' Kid asked.

"No, but it does keep him working."

"There you go again, another word that don't set easy with us. Working," Kid replied, now thoroughly convinced that all the fall-de-ral over an Emmy nomination was absurd.

"I wish you two had more details. I could explain it all better to you if I had more details," Kate said. "Do you know if they have actually been nominated, or are they just being considered?"

Kid and Heyes again looked at her with blank expressions.

Kate sighed heavily. "Look, if the show has been nominated for an Emmy, everyone associated with it will be invited to attend a huge awards ceremony. All the men will dress up in tuxedos and the women in elegant gowns..."

"All I got is a blue suit," Kid told her.

"And a hat that don't fit," Heyes added.

Kate suddenly looked very worried, not knowing quite how to break the news to them. "You two won't be invited to attend," she said softly.

"What!" Kid exclaimed. "Them alter egos go prancing around just pretending to be us, and they get invited and we don't?"

"Well, the award is for exactly that... Pretending," Kate explained.

"I think I've heard just about enough," Kid snarled.

"Calm down, Kid," Heyes told him. "Remember, it's an honor having someone emulate you."

With furrowed brow, Kid stared at his partner. "Is that anything like mutilate? Cause I don't consider that much of an honor."

"Emulate means to copy, to talk, and walk, and dress just like you. To try to be the kind of person you are," Kate explained.

Heyes smiled, finally grasping what Kate was saying. "Like all them crazy fans in Kate's day that wear them shirts with our pictures on em, and put picture posters on their bedroom walls," he said, slowly looking about Kate's room at all the pictures adorning her walls. "And...write stories about us."

Kid noticed Heyes' eyes moving about the room while his expression turned to one very much like fear. As Kid looked around, his expression began to match that of his partner and, carefully avoiding any sudden movements, he got off the bed and moved close to the door.

"Maybe it's best we don't attend, Heyes."

"I think maybe you're right, Kid... Kate, we're sorry to have bothered you, but we just remembered an important meeting with Lom that we really shouldn't miss."

With that, they were both gone, leaving Kate sitting in her bed in an empty room. Kate slowly looked around at the pictures so carefully hung on each wall and she slowly began to wonder if she was in deed, one of those crazy fans. Then she thought of the dozen tee shirts, all meticulously folded in a dresser drawer, the hundreds of stories she had penned, the Weary Boys wallpaper on her computer and cellphone, the anniversary parties she faithfully attended, the fan letters she mailed on a weekly basis, even the name of her dog...

"Nah, that's all normal," she thought with a smile, then settled back in under the covers and opened her murder mystery book...