Opening Montage

Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the triplets now middle school aged. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rebuffs an advance by Daryl in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the park with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' people with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Timmy making out with Q Ruttheimer while three girls are practically throwing themselves at Tommy. Final shot is Quinn, Jim and the triplets standing on the front lawn and then being joined by the rest of the regular cast. They all smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale

this episode:

"The Evening Nudes"

written by

WildDogJJ

Act I

WSBC-TV Studio, day...

Stacy Ruttheimer (nee Rowe) was showing her twelve-year-old daughter, Quinn (Q for short) around the studio. Stacy was a news anchor at WSBC and, as such, was dressed in a business suit consisting of a sky-blue jacket over a white blouse with matching skirt. Q was wearing the t-shirt and jeans that she normally wears when not cheerleading.

"So," said Stacy, "What do you think?"

"I didn't know you pre-taped the eleven o'clock news in the afternoon," said Q.

"We do that," Stacy explained, "Because it's easier than being here at the same time that most people are going to bed."

"By the way," said Q, "Thanks for letting me shadow you for career day."

Stacy smiled. "Thanks for taking an interest in my job."

"Duh," said Q, "Your job is more glamorous than Dad's. I mean, no offense, but running an IT business is kinda nerdy."

Stacy stifled a giggle. It was at this point that a blond, mustachioed man around her age approached.

"Hey, Stacy," he said, "Great show today."

"Thanks, Ron," said Stacy, who then proceeded to introduce her daughter. "Ron, my daughter, Q. Q, this is my co-anchor, Ron Nolan."

"Hey, Mr. Nolan," said Q politely.

"Career day, huh," said Ron.

"How'd you know," asked Stacy.

Ron explained, "Elementary school's doing the same thing. Tori brought her son, Evan."

"What's he like," asked Q.

Before Ron could answer, a blond ten-year-old boy ran by flailing around a shirt microphone and screaming.

"I WANNA BE ON TV! I WANNA BE ON TV!"

His mother, Tori Jericho, was chasing after him.

"YOUR GONNA BE ON A BUS TO MILITARY SCHOOL IF YOU DON'T CUT IT OUT, YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

Evan's response.

"AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGGGGHHH!"

Stacy, Ron and Q all shook their heads while giving Tori a pitiful look.

"Reminds me of Brian Taylor," Stacy commented.

"Who," asked Q.

"Mrs. Thompson's younger brother," Stacy explained, "he was an out-of-control brat at that age too."

They were then approached by one of the technicians.

"We go live in twenty minutes," he said.

"Live," asked Q.

"Yeah," said Stacy, "We pre-tape the eleven o'clock news, but we do the six o'clock live."

It was at this time that Evan ran by again, this time carrying a punch bowl.

"MINE! MINE!"

"PUT THAT BACK ON THE REFRESHMENT TABLE, YOU LITTLE SHIT," screamed a frustrated Tori.

Evan suddenly turned around and blew past Stacy so hard that he spilled the red Kool Aid all over her jacket and blouse.

"NO," shouted a horrified Stacy as her jacket was now ruined. She removed the jacket. "Now I have to do the news in just my white blouse!"

That was when Evan ran by her again. This time, he had a bowl of chocolate ice cream.

"MOM CAN'T CATCH ME! MOM CAN'T CATCH ME!"

Suddenly, Tori tackled her out-of-control son from behind.

"GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE HELLION!"

This caused the bowl of melting ice cream to go flying up and land on Stacy's blouse, staining it all over.

"UGH! NOTHING GETS CHOCOLATE OUT!"

The dressing room, a few minutes later...

Stacy was looking at the stained jacket and blouse in the mirror.

"Dammit, I go live in fifteen minutes and my outfit's ruined!"

She was actually starting to hyperventilate when her daughter intervened.

"MOM," said Q, "It's okay! Wardrobe's bound to have something."

Stacy calmed down.

"Thanks, Q."

That was when there was a knock on the door.

"COME IN," Stacy called.

The door opened and a female assistant came in.

"Bad news, Mrs. Ruttheimer," said the assistant, "due to our accountants being total cheap asses this was all I could get."

The assistant then pulled out a skimpy white t-shirt.

"You've gotta be kidding me," said Stacy as she willed herself not to have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry," said the assistant, "but it's the best I can do on such short notice."

"Fine," said Stacy with a resigned sigh as she took the shirt. Stacy then proceeded to take off her jacket and blouse and put the t-shirt on. She then went to the mirror. What she saw made her gasp in horror.

"I CAN'T DO THE NEWS IN THIS! I LOOK LIKE A COLLEGE SLUT!"

The shirt was showing midriff and so tight that the outline of Stacy's bra was readily visible. Not only that, but it had a low-hanging neck that showed a little too much cleavage.

"Mrs. Ruttheimer," explained the assistant, "It's either that, or the stained jacket and blouse. I mean, you can't go live in just a bra."

"I might as well be doing that," Stacy ranted, "With how tight this shirt is!"

Suddenly, Stacy got an idea.

"Wait a minute!"

Stacy took the shirt off. She then took off her bra before putting the shirt back on. Once that was done, she looked again. The absence of an undergarment meant that the shirt now covered her midriff and felt more comfortable.

"Well," said a resigned Stacy, "It's not professional, but at least I can breathe now."

News studio, fifteen minutes later...

Stacy sat behind the anchor desk, trying not to let her embarrassment show. Unfortunately, not only was the shirt so tight that she had to remove her bra to make it fit, but the AC was running full blast in order to keep the stage lights from making people sweat on camera. This caused her nipples to harden and, due to the t-shirt's tightness, everyone could see them. Adding to Stacy's discomfort was that Ron kept trying to sneak a peek down her shirt, which she was trying hard to pretend she didn't notice.

Oh, God! OH, GOD! Stacy thought, I've got pokies on live TV!

She then shook her head and took a deep breath.

Get it together, Stacy! Maybe it won't show on camera!

The director spoke up.

"LIVE IN 5...4...3..."

Then, the theme music played. Once the music stopped...

"Welcome to WSBC Action News, live at six. I'm Ron Nolan."

"And I'm Stacy Ruttheimer. Today's top story..."

Ruttheimer house, at that very moment...

Stacy's husband, Chuck (formerly Upchuck) and their son, Chuckie, were watching the news. Both gasped in shock as not only was Stacy wearing a skimpy t-shirt, but the pokies were even more visible on camera than in person.

So entranced by the sight that he forgot his teenage son was right there, Chuck had just one thing to say.

"Grrrr...Feisty!"

Looking unfazed, Chuckie commented in his usual snarky monotone.

"I can see Mom's nipples."

Casa Carbone...

Quinn, Jim and the triplets were watching the news.

"Oh...my...God," exclaimed Quinn in shock at the sight of Stacy's tight t-shirt and pokies.

"Whoa," said Timmy, who happens to be Q's boyfriend, "That whole family's hot!"

Added Tommy, "Mrs. Ruttheimer's a MILF!"

"Quinn," barked Jim.

"On it, hun," said Quinn as both she and Jim covered the boys' eyes.

Sloane manor...

Sandi scowled disapprovingly at Stacy's revealing attire.

"Pokies on the news," she said in a haughty, dismissive tone, "Not done!"

Thompson house...

"Dude," said Kevin as he watched the news, "She's, like, hot!"

This got him an angry elbow from Brittany.

"OW!"

A frat house at Lawndale State...

Three college frat boys were watching the news.

"Dude," said one frat boy, "Check out the hottie on the news!"

"Whoa," exclaimed the second, "That anchor chick's hot!"

"Man," said the third, "I really wanna put my mouth on those knockers!"

Chris's house...

Jim's brother Chris was watching the news and visibly turned on by the sight of Stacy.

"Dammit, why'd I have to leave my lotion in the bathroom!?"

He then shrugged.

"What the hell."

He unzipped his pants, for reasons that you can probably guess.

Ruttheimer house, that evening...

Stacy and Chuck sat up in bed, preparing to turn in for the night. Stacy was ranting about her day.

"God, it was soooo humiliating!"

"Relax, Stacy," Chuck reassured, "You were hot!"

Stacy smiled. "Thanks, babe, but it was still very unprofessional. I mean, my nipples were visible through that shirt."

"Yeah," said a visibly turned on Chuck before a death stare from his wife made him backpedal, "Um, I mean, yeah, it's unfortunate, but it's a one-time incident. Everyone will probably forget about it after a few days."

"Nice save," said Stacy, "but I probably ended up showing enough to violate FCC decency standards. We could get fined and it's my fault!"

"Actually," said Chuck, "Isn't it Tori's fault? I mean, this wouldn't have even happened if she did a better job keeping her kid in line."

"I know," Stacy lamented, "I just hope the station sees it that way."

"Think of it this way," said Chuck, "Now the whole world knows that your body looks great for a forty-two-year-old who had two kids."

"Not helping," said Stacy in a frosty tone that would make Sandi proud. She then took a quick breath to calm down. "Let's just go to sleep. The sooner we do that, the sooner I can start pretending this day never happened."

Chuck leered at his wife.

"Um, Stacy, seeing you in that shirt gave me...grrr...urges. Before turning in, you wanna get a little...grrr, feisty?"

Stacy shot down that idea.

"Sorry, babe, but after what happened today, I'm REALLY not in the mood for sex."

Chuck frowned.

"Fine."

He then got out of bed and went to the bathroom to self-serve.

WSBC-TV, the next day...

Stacy was in her office dressed in her usual work attire. She was deep in thought.

God, I hope there aren't any consequences for what happened yesterday!

It was at this point that there was a knock on the door.

"COME IN!"

In came a young Latin woman in her twenties. She was Stacy's assistant, Corina.

"Hey, Corina," said Stacy, "What's going on?"

"Mrs. Ruttheimer," said Corina with concern in her eyes and voice, "News chief wants to have a talk with you...right now."

Stacy's face lost all color.

"eep!"

News Chiefs office, a few minutes later...

Stacy stood contrite in front of the desk of her boss, news chief Lou Jonahson.

(Author's note: Yes, that name is an amalgamation of Lou Grant and J. Jonah Jameson.)

Mr. Jonahson, a burly man in his early sixties, looked at Stacy.

"I take it you know why I called you in."

"Yes," said Stacy in an apologetic tone, "Look, Tori's son spilled Kool Aid and ice cream on my outfit and that skimpy shirt was the best the wardrobe department could do on such short notice. It was an accident, and it won't happen again. I...I'm sorry if it got us in trouble."

Mr. Jonahson smiled.

"Don't be sorry, Stacy! Yesterday's broadcast was a huge hit! We haven't seen ratings like that since 9/11! If anything, I should be thanking you for dressing like that on the air."

Stacy was stunned.

"You...you're serious!"

"Yep," said Jonahson, "Apparently, seeing you in a skimpy top sent our ratings through the roof. I called you in because I just got off the phone with our marketing department. They want more of Sexy Stacy!"

"Sexy Stacy," said Stacy with a raised eyebrow.

Jonahson nodded. "That's what the folks in marketing are going with. They say we FINALLY have a shot at crushing WATL during sweeps if we keep going with that angle."

"I see," said Stacy, who clearly didn't know how to feel about this.

"Come on," said Jonahson, "Higher ratings mean more sponsors. Everyone wins! I want you to go over to the wardrobe department. They got something for you to try on."

Wardrobe department, later...

Stacy was wearing a yellow tank top with spaghetti straps. The top was so tight that not only was Stacy not wearing a bra, but it pushed up certain...assets...making them appear larger than they actually were.

"You sure about this," Stacy asked one of the guys in wardrobe. This guy wore tight, colorful clothes and had gelled blonde hair while wearing pink sunglasses.

"Of course," said the guy in an effeminate voice, "You are smokin', girlfriend! Hell, you have what it takes to turn a raging flamer like me straight!"

Stacy couldn't help feeling flattered by the compliment.

News studio, later...

Stacy was seated at her position behind the news desk. Her co-anchor, Ron, couldn't help leering at her

Damn, Ron thought, I didn't know she was THAT hot!

Stacy pretended not to notice that her colleague couldn't keep his eyes off her cleavage.

Damn, she's hot, thought the director. Out loud, he said, "OKAY, ON IN FIVE...FOUR...THREE..."

Once again, the music played. Once it stopped...

"Welcome to WSBC Action News, I'm Ron Nolan."

"And I'm Stacy Ruttheimer..boys."

She'd said boys in a seductive tone and followed that up with a suggestive wink.

Ron continued his spiel.

"Our top story today is..."

Stacy noticed every guy in the studio leering at her. Rather than feeling creeped out, she now found herself feeling flattered.

Still hot at 42...and after having two kids to boot.

Stacy began to feel comfortable with the new direction the station was taking with her image.

Act II

WSBC-TV Studio, day...

Stacy was anchoring the evening news. There were some changes in the studio. The old anchor desk had been replaced with a clear glass one. The other change was Stacy's attire. She was wearing a black blouse that was unbuttoned low enough to show ample cleavage and even some of the lacy red bra that she wore underneath. Not only that, but her pants were white jeans that were so tight as to make the outline of Stacy's panties readily visible. In fact, her co-anchor Ron was regularly sneaking peaks down Stacy's blouse. The men on the camera crew were also ogling Stacy, as was the news director.

"Well," said Ron, "That covers today's events."

Added Stacy, "That's right, Ron." She then looked at the camera. "Thank you for joining us this evening, and don't forget to tune in for the eleven o'clock news, where we continue our weeklong series about sexuality in the 21st century."

"Tonight's segment," added Ron, "The Female Sexual Response: Nature's Rubix Cube. I'm Ron Nolan."

"And I'm Stacy Ruttheimer, if it's hot, we've got it covered." Her voice took on a suggestive tone. "But not tooooo covered."

"And...," said the head technician, "...we're clear!"

"Alright, people," said the news director, "That's a wrap!"

Stacy and Ron got to talking.

"Great broadcast today, Stacy," said Ron.

"Thanks, Ron," said Stacy, "Although, it'd help if you didn't stare at my boobs every ten seconds."

Ron blushed with embarrassment.

"Noticed, huh?"

Stacy nodded. Before the conversation could continue, the news director approached her.

"Stacy," he said, "I just got word from the higher ups. They aren't very impressed."

"What's wrong," asked Stacy, "My delivery, or Ron's leering?"

"Your wardrobe," the director answered, "You aren't showing enough. Why do you think we got that glass anchor desk? Tomorrow, wear a mini skirt. People wanna see some leg."

That was when Stacy started to feel uncomfortable, but she said nothing.

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Q and Timmy were walking the halls to their next class. They held hands as they did.

"You know," said Timmy, "Your mom looked good on TV last night."

Q was stunned.

"Since when do you watch the news!?"

"Since I realized how hot your mom is," said Timmy.

The remark prompted a death stare from Q, prompting her boyfriend to immediately backpedal.

"Um...I mean...uh..." Timmy struggled to think of something to say before he was in the dog house.

"Timmy," said Q in a frosty tone, "You don't think I'm hot."

"Well," Timmy said absentmindedly, "It would be nice if you showed a little more. How come you don't dress like that anyway?"

"Two reasons," said an increasingly annoyed Q, "One, this school has a dress code. Two, it costs a lot to look that cheap."

"Come on, babe," said Timmy in a poorly thought out attempt to reassure his girlfriend, "You're just as pretty as your mom, it runs in the family. You should show off your body more, and...," Timmy smiled slyly. "...I'd like it."

Instead of feeling complemented, Q felt offended. "Timmy, I'm your girlfriend, not one of the girls on those sites I found on your computer that one time."

Timmy silently cursed at himself for not deleting his search history.

"In fact," Q continued, anger rising with every word, "I should be enough for you and, no, we aren't going past first base. I've made it clear that we're both too young for THAT much intimacy. We're only twelve, for chrissake!"

"Jeez, Q," said Timmy, "I'm not pushing for...you know...that! It's just that, well, we've been together for more than a year now. Maybe we could show each other a little more, just a little."

Q angrily slapped Timmy in response.

"Beat off to my mom, you jerk!"

With that, Q angrily stormed off. Timmy just stood there looking dumbfounded.

Meanwhile, at WSBC-TV...

Stacy sat in her office and was deep in thought. Her thoughts had to do with the fact that today she was wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt that was tight enough to make the outline of her bra readily visible.

This is so weird. Here I am, a forty-two-year-old news anchor coming to work dressed like a twenty-two-year-old floozy.

She took a sip of her coffee before resuming her inner monologue.

Still, it's flattering to know that I'm still hot at this age. But...

She took a deep breath before finishing the thought.

But it feels wrong, showing my body just to boost ratings. Shouldn't people be watching us to be informed, not tuning in just because they're turned on?

Before she could dwell further on the matter, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Stacy's assistant, Corina, entered.

"Mrs. Ruttheimer, we have a taping in fifteen minutes."

Stacy looked at her watch and gasped.

"Sorry. I...Well, I kinda lost track of the time."

The news studio, a few minutes later...

Stacy was walking towards the anchor desk. Not only was she wearing a tight gray mini-skirt with high-heeled sandals, but the material of her black sleeveless tee was thin enough that the glare of the studio light was making her red bra visible.

"Damn, she's hot," whispered one of the cameramen under his breath.

Stacy heard that, and clearly didn't know whether to feel flattered or creeped out.

"Damn," whispered on of the male interns under his breath, "Mrs. Ruttheimer's a total MILF."

Now, Stacy's feelings settled on creeped out.

Keep it professional, Stacy. It's not like you're expected to sleep with any of them.

Her co-anchor, Ron, had a thought of his own.

Damn, I so need to have an office affair with this woman.

Stacy took her place at the anchor desk.

"Ready, Ron," she asked, trying to ignore his leering.

"Ready, sexy...I mean Stacy," said Ron.

That slip of the tongue made Stacy visibly uncomfortable.

"Um...Ron..."

"Sorry," Ron interrupted, "I didn't mean to say that just now."

"Ron," said Stacy, "I'm only dressing like this and acting flirty on camera because it's what our viewers want."

"I know," said Ron, "Did you know my wife's out of town this weekend?"

"Ron," said Stacy in a stern tone, "I'm a married woman with kids."

"I wasn't propositioning you," Ron lied, "Just making conversation."

Stacy decided to drop the issue, even though she knew her colleague was now trying to snake his way into her pants.

White residence, afternoon...

Teddy Carbone and his best/only friend, Rachel White, were watching TV in her room. On the TV was a split-screen of a beautiful blond woman. On one side, she's wearing a business suit while talking on the phone and filling blanks on a questionare. On the other side, she's onstage grinding a stripper pole in just her bra and panties.

"These women conduct surveys by day...AND TAKE IT ALL OFF AT NIGHT! Pollsters Working the Pole, next on Sick, Sad World!"

As the TV cut to commercial, Rachel and Teddy made conversation.

"So," said Rachel, "Timmy's in the doghouse with his girlfriend?"

Teddy nodded. "Apparently, he likes seeing her mom a little too much for Q's liking. When Timmy suggested she dress more like that Q answered him with a slap to the face."

"You think that's bad," said Q, "Jessie, Jenny and Janey got sent to Mr. Black's office for wearing clothes that show a little too much skin."

"Trying to take Tommy's eyes off of Mrs. Ruttheimer, I take it," said Teddy.

Rachel nodded in the affirmative.

Teddy sighed. "I know Mrs. Ruttheimer's only dressing like that because the TV station's making her. It's just a shameless attempt to boost ratings by appealing to the lowest common denominator."

"Hey," said Rachel, "Sex sells is just as true as 'if it bleeds, it leads'."

"You know," said Teddy, "the news is for people who wanna be informed, not horndogs who wanna add Mrs. Ruttheimer to their spank banks."

"True," said Rachel, "but sponsors want money, and sex sells."

Teddy sighed. "Does money ever NOT trump integrity?"

"No," said Rachel, "but it's not like this is crossing a line into outright exploitation."

"How so," asked Teddy.

"Well," said Rachel, "I'm an artist and, like all artists, I see the human body as a thing of beauty rather than something to be ashamed of. Maybe it's the same with Mrs. Ruttheimer."

Just then, a commercial on the TV caught the two kids' attention.

"Don't forget to tune in to WSBC Action News, with Stacy Ruttheimer, America's Sexiest Newslady."

The image was Stacy in a mesh top that showed shoulder and she clearly was not wearing a bra underneath.

"Oh, yeah," Teddy deadpanned, "Nothing exploitative about that image."

Montage scene...

Music: "Sexy and I Know It" by LMFAO

Stacy's anchoring the news. She's wearing a black mesh top with no bra underneath and denim mini skirt. At one point, they zoom in close enough for the viewers to see her nipples. The next broadcast sees Stacy wearing a red tube top that pushes her breasts up in order to exaggerate their size. In addition, she's wearing a black mini-skirt that's high enough to give people a glimpse of her panties. The men in the studio are visibly turned on by this, as are all the male viewers at home. When the cameras stop rolling, Stacy allows her mounting discomfort to show. The next broadcast has Stacy wearing a blue slip dress that's so tight that she looks like a hooker. She's visibly struggling not to let her growing discomfort show. The following broadcast has Stacy in a black tube top that's so tight it's a miracle her boobs don't pop out. Furthermore, the tube top shows a lot of midriff and the mini-skirt is so mini that the only time her panties aren't showing is when she stands up. After the broadcast, Stacy tried to walk back to wardrobe but the micro-mimi keeps hiking up, resulting in hoots and hollers from every guy in the studio. Stacy's expression is now visible anger. Next, the station does a braodcast from the boardwalk at Seaside Heights. While Ron is dressed professionally, Stacy is being forced to wear a red bikini that doesn't cover much of anything. Later, she has to conduct an interview while standing up and the camera keeps focusing on the fact that Stacy's bikini is a thong. After the camera's stop, Stacy groans in mounting frustration. Finally, Stacy's back in the studio. Now, her only top is a lacy black bra and she's not wearing any panties under the mini-skirt. The latter is something the camera zooms in on at one point. After the camera's stop rolling, Stacy's expression makes it clear that she's sick and tired of being sexually objectified.

WSBC-TV, day...

Stacy was in her regular clothes making her way to the wardrobe department. She had an expression of dread on her face.

How much are they gonna make me show on air this time she silently asked herself as she entered wardrobe.

"Ah, Stacy," said the gay wardrobe director, "You're here."

"What is it this time," asked Stacy in a bitter tone, "another revealing bikini, or am I going to do the news completely naked this time?"

"Not yet, sweetie," said the wardrobe director, "You're sporting..." He pulled back a curtain. "...THIS!"

Stacy gasped in horror at the manniquin wearing a transparent white teddy, transparent white panties, thigh-high stockings and white stiletto heels.

"ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!? I MIGHT AS WELL BE NAKED WEARING THAT DAMN THING!"

"Sorry, hon," said the gay man, "Orders from above."

"That's...freaking...IT!"

Stacy angrily stormed out of wardrobe.

Conference room, barely a minute later...

The station heads were having their weekly meeting. Among them was Mr. Jonahson, the news chief.

"Sexy Stacy's a hit," said the marketing director, a forty-something man with slicked back black hair, "We're number one in our viewing area! We've got sponsors lining up from here to Tokyo! Not only that, but the flagship station in New York wants to pick up our news broadcasts!"

Suddenly, the door swings open and Stacy angrily storms in.

"TRANSPARENT LINGERIE," she shouted, "WHAT THE HELL!?"

"Mr. Jonahson," said the marketing director while pointing to Stacy's business-casual attire, "Why's Sexy Stacy dressed like she's going to a funeral?"

Stacy angrily answered for her boss.

"Because I'm sick and tired of being objectified for ratings, that's why!"

"Come on, Stacy," said Jonahson, "Have you seen the numbers were pulling in?"

"I don't care," Stacy barked, "I'm a news anchor, not a stripper. We're a local TV station, not PornHub. Our viewers should be watching the news to stay informed, NOT to eye-hump me!"

"Come on," said the marketing director, "You're a hit!"

"I should be a hit because I'm a respected journalist," Stacy fired back, "Not because I look great naked!"

"But, Stacy..."

Stacy cut Jonahson off.

"I'm done! I refuse to do the news dressed like a skank any longer!"

"So," said the now nervous marketing director, "I guess now's not a good time to tell you that you'll be doing a special broadcast this weekend."

"Special," Stacy hissed, knowing she won't like what's said next.

"Doing the eleven o'clock news completely naked," said the marketing director.

"UGH!"

Stacy turned around and angrily stormed out of the office. Once she was gone, everyone gave Jonahson a piercing look.

"Don't worry," said the newsroom chief, "I'll take care of it."

The news studio, a few hours later...

Stacy was making her way to the anchor desk. She was wearing a sky-blue business suit, clearly done being sexually objectified for ratings. Stacy was so focused that she didn't even notice the forboding expressions on the faces of her colleagues, who all clearly knew something that she didn't.

"Mrs. Ruttheimer," came a familiar voice from behind.

Stacy turned around to see Angie Thompson, Kevin and Brittany's 20-year-old daughter, right behind her. Angie, like her mother, was a big breasted blond bombshell. What really shocked Stacy, however, was that Angie was wearing the lingerie that the station tried to make her wear.

"Angie," said Stacy, "What are you doing here...in that!?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," said Angie, "I've got a new job."

"What job," asked a suddenly nervous Stacy.

"Your job," said Angie, "They asked me if I wanna be on TV and I said yes. I'm the news anchor now."

Stacy gasped in shock. At this point, Mr. Jonahson approached.

"Oh, Stacy," he said, "I almost forgot to tell you. You're fired!"

Stacy was horrified.

Act III

Glenfield Middle School, day...

The cheerleaders were in the gym and have just finished practice. The coach, Mrs. Wilson, noticed that one of the cheerleaders, Quinn Ruttheimer, was looking down.

"Q," said Wilson, "Can I have a quick word with you?"

As the other girls made their way to the locker room Q approached Wilson.

"Sorry," said Q, knowing what this is about, "I guess I wasn't in top form today."

"I noticed," said Wilson, "You weren't your usual peppy self."

"I've got a lot on my mind," Q admitted, "My boyfriend and I are having problems and my mother just lost her job."

"I figured that's what's wrong," said Wilson, "But we have a dance competition in Oakwood this weekend and I need all of you girls to have your heads in the game."

Q sighed. "That's another thing that's kinda bothering me," she admitted, "I'm not comfortable with the moves we've been practicing. They're a little...well...risque."

"That's what the people come to see," said Wilson, "Why do you think our dance uniforms show more skin than our game uniforms?"

"Mrs. Wilson," Q protested, "We're in middle school, not college. Isn't it kinda early for us to be...you know."

Wilson nodded in understanding. "I get it. Look, the sad truth is that girls and women will always be judged solely on sex appeal. I think it's disgusting, but there's nothing I can do to change it. If I tried, then I'd just be replaced with someone who's willing to appease the male gaze."

"Just like what the station did to my mom," Q bitterly replied.

"Exactly," said Wilson, "Look, women are never going to be respected for their brains, only their bodies. As an educator, it's my duty to prepare you girls for the real world and that's how the real world works. Always has, always will. Frankly, if we don't give men what they want then they'll just yeet us for a woman who will. Might as well get used to it."

Q said nothing but looked thoughtful (and can you say 'groomer').

Casa Carbone, later that day...

Timmy sat alone in his room and let out a sigh. Jim entered.

"Hey, Timmy," said Jim, "I noticed you're kinda down."

"It's nothing, Dad," Timmy lied.

Jim sat on the bed next to his son.

"You know, Timmy, your mother thinks you and I should talk more and, frankly, I agree. That's why she sent me in here instead of coming in herself."

Timmy sighed.

"Q and I are having problems."

"Figured it was something like that," said Jim.

Timmy explained. "When Q's mom started doing the news dressed sexy I asked Q why she never dresses like that."

Jim cringed slightly. "Timmy, you guys are only twelve!"

"Yeah," said Timmy, "That's what Q said. I wasn't trying to pressure her or anything. I kept asking what the deal was, and she kept getting mad at me."

"Duh," said Jim, "You made her uncomfortable."

"I know," Timmy admitted, "but she didn't have to get so mad."

"Timmy," said Jim, "You know what your problem is? You're assuming you're good enough for her, and you're not."

Timmy was offended. "Yes, I am!"

"No," Jim insisted, "You're not, just like I'm not good enough for your mother."

Timmy stifled a laugh. "Yeah, that's true."

"Hey," said an offended Jim, "I'm trying to impart some wisdom as your father here!"

"Okay," said Timmy.

"Look," said Jim, "Remember last Sunday, when we spent the whole afternoon visiting with Aunt Rita at Better Days?"

Timmy nodded.

Jim went on. "Do you really think I wanted to waste a whole Sunday afternoon listening to Rita bitching about being single in her seventies? No, I did it because it's what your mother wanted and what my wife wants, she gets. That's the price you pay for being with a woman who's way outta your league."

"So," said Timmy, "What should I do?"

Jim explained. "You should march right over to the Ruttheimer's and start seriously kissing Q's ass...before she realizes how much better off she is without you."

Timmy sat there looking thoughtful.

Ruttheimer house, evening...

Q was sitting alone in her room looking at a picture on her cell phone. The image was one of her and Timmy laughing while they hugged. Suddenly, she heard a wrapping sound on the window. She put the phone down and made her way to the window. After opening it, Q looked down to see Timmy in the back yard.

"Timmy," said Q, "What are you doing here!?"

"Q," said Timmy, "Can we talk?"

"Why didn't you just use the door," asked Q.

"I was gonna," said Timmy, "but I heard your mother sobbing inside and that's a little too weird for me. Besides, this is more romantic."

Q was visibly moved by that last sentence. Timmy's sweetness was her weakness.

"There's a ladder under the hedges," said Q as she pointed, "You can use it to climb up."

Timmy went into the hedges and got the ladder. Not being in the best shape, he needed Q's help to climb through the window.

"Timmy," asked Q, "What's going on?"

"Look," said Timmy, "I'm sorry about the other day. I...I should've been more considerate of your feelings. I don't expect you to do anything you aren't ready for. I want you to show me your body, but only if that's what you want. I...I love you enough to wait. If it never happens, that's okay. Just being your boyfriend is enough for me."

Q was visibly touched. "Oh, Timmy!"

They kissed. After the kiss broke...

"Actually," said Q, "I...well, I've been thinking about that. I mean, it's been more than a year since we first got together. Maybe...maybe it's time we started doing more than just hold hands and kiss."

Timmy was puzzled as he definitely didn't expect this.

"Um...like what?"

"Like," said Q, "Maybe I could, you know, show you a little more...a little more skin."

Timmy felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"I...I thought you weren't ready for that," he said nervously.

"I wasn't," said Q, "but now I am."

"Q," said Timmy, "you don't have to..."

"No," Q interrupted, "I want to. Look, I'm not saying we touch or anything. Maybe we just take off our shirts for starters."

Timmy started to get excited.

"You mean it!?"

Q nodded.

"I'll go first," said Timmy, "It's not fair that I see yours without showing you mine."

With that, Timmy took off his t-shirt and dropped it on the floor.

"You have a nice body," said Q.

Timmy was skeptical.

"You...you don't mind that I'm fat?"

"To me," said Q, "you're beautiful." She then took a breath to steel her nerves. "Okay, here it goes."

Timmy watched excitedly as Q removed her shirt and dropped it on the floor. Next, she began to remove her training bra and drop that on the floor. No sooner was Q topless when the door to her room opened.

"Hey, Q," said Chuck, "Your mother and I..." He suddenly noticed what his daughter and her boyfriend were doing. "...GAH! WHAT THE GODDAMN HELL!"

Busted, both Q and Timmy covered their chests and said the following in unison.

"EEP!"

The living room, a short time later...

Q was getting a major earful from both of her parents. When Chuck told Stacy what he'd walked in on it snapped her right out of her crying fit and sent her straight into stern parent mode. First, she called Quinn to come pick her son up and told her what happened. Now, Q was being read the riot act by her parents while Timmy was almost certainly getting his from both Quinn and Jim.

"Taking off your clothes...IN FRONT OF A GUY," said an outraged Chuck.

Added Stacy, "Quinn Anastasia Ruttheimer, what the hell were you thinking, young lady!?"

"Mom," said Q, "We weren't gonna do anything, I swear! Timmy and I were just gonna hang out with our shirts off, that's all!"

"THAT'S HOW IT STARTS," Chuck yelled, "If I hadn't walked in when I did...oh, God, I don't even wanna think about that!"

It was at this point that Q's brother, Chuckie, walked by. He spoke to his sister in his usual snarky monotone.

"You flashed Timmy."

"CHUCKIE," Chuck barked, "STAY OUTTA THIS!"

Chuckie walked out of the room, after which both parents turned their attention back to their daughter.

"As for you, young lady," said Stacy in a stern tone, "Just what the hell were you thinking, taking your shirt off in front of a boy like that."

"Is he pressuring you," said Chuck, "DID THAT PERVERT TOUCH YOU!?"

"NO," said Q, "Taking off our shirts was my idea!"

Ironically, Stacy was the one keeping a cool head while Chuck went into hysterics.

"Oh, God," said Chuck, horrified that his little girl is growing up, "OH, SWEET JESUS CHRIST, NO!"

"CHUCK," Stacy barked, "calm down! We're supposed to be the adults here!" She then turned to Q. "And you're still a child, so I'll say it again...WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?"

"I...," Q replied nervously, "I just want Timmy to keep liking me. I...I just thought if I showed him more of my body then he won't eventually ditch me for a girl who will."

Chuck's face was losing color.

"I...I can't deal with this!"

He made a mad dash from the living room straight for the liquor cabinet.

"Q," said Stacy in a stern but understanding tone, "Where in the hell did you get a stupid idea like that?"

Q sighed. "Look, you just got fired because the TV station wanted you to show more, and you said no. I don't wanna end up like that. I don't wanna get dumped just because I didn't wanna do stuff with my boyfriend."

Stacy sighed. "Q, I was only showing too much skin because the station was making me. I hated it."

"Yeah," said Q, "and look what happened when you said no. You know, the moves we're practicing in cheerleading right now are kinda...sexual. I was uncomfortable, but we have to let guys objectify us, because they'll reject us if we don't."

Stacy cringed slightly. Not only had she been playing into that mentality until recently, but what her daughter just said was similar to her own thoughts in high school when she lost her virginity to a guy who got her to put out on the first date.

"Q," said Stacy, "It shouldn't be like that. I should have a job because I'm good at it, not because the guys like staring at my body. You shouldn't have to take off your clothes to make Timmy like you. He should be with you because he likes YOU, not because you let him see you in various states of undress."

"I know, Mom," said Q, "but that's not how the world works, and there's nothing we can do to change it. I was just doing what I had to do because I don't wanna lose at a rigged game, like you did."

Stacy now had a guilty expression on her face.

"Q, go to your room," said Stacy, "I need to make a phone call."

Q then shuffled off to her room. Once alone, Stacy had the following thought.

My daughter's starting to buy into the same mentality that cost me my career! No way in hell I'm letting that happen!

Stacy picked up the phone and dialed a number.

WSBC-TV, the next day...

They were taping the eleven o'clock news. Angie was at the anchor desk in a skimpy black tube top with a leather micro-mini and matching pumps.

"And, like, that's all for tonight," said Angie in a flirty tone.

Both the director and Mr. Jonahson were behind the scenes.

"God," said the director, "She's hot!"

"Hot," said Jonahson, "And easy."

It was at this point that Stacy approached them, accompanied by a blond woman in a business suit. Both of them had determined expressions on their faces.

"Mr. Jonahson," said Stacy.

Jonahson turned around.

"Stacy! What are you doing here!?"

He then looked at the blond woman.

"And who's your lovely friend?"

The woman introduced herself.

"Jasmine Schrecter," she said as she handed a folded piece of paper to Mr. Jonahson, "Here you go."

"What's this," asked Jonahson as he took the paper.

"It's a subpoena," said the smirking Jasmine.

Jonahson's eyes went wide as he looked at the paper.

"YOU'RE SUING US!?"

"Damn right, we are," said Stacy.

Jonahson read the subpoena out loud.

"Wrongful termination, sexual harassment, exploitation...BLACKMAIL!" He looked at the two. "JESUS CHRIST, YOU'RE GONNA BANKRUPT US!"

"Maybe," said Jasmine, "You should have thought of that before firing my client just because she doesn't wanna be a sex object."

Jonahson frowned, knowing that the station has no chance of winning.

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Timmy and Q were walking the halls and talking.

"So," said Timmy, "Your mom got her job back."

"Yeah," said Q, "And they increased her salary. They didn't fire Angie, though. They just added a new segment to the late news: Bikini Time."

"Cool," said Timmy.

The death stare from Q made him nervous.

"Um...I mean.."

"It's okay," said Q, "I get it. You guys really are just horny pigs."

"Um, yeah," said Timmy, "So, about the other night..."

"No way," Q interrupted, "We aren't doing anything that involves removing clothes again for a LONG time, and you'll just have to accept it."

"That's not what I wanted to ask," said Timmy, "How long are you grounded?"

"A month," Q answered, "Also, I quit cheerleading."

Timmy was stunned.

"Your parents made you quit cheerleading!?"

"No," said Q, "I did that on my own."

"But," said Timmy, "you like cheerleading!"

"Not anymore," said Q, "I mean, we were just future sex objects in training, and I'm done playing into that system. I want people to like me because I'm smart, not because I look good doing splits in a skimpy uniform."

"I see," said Timmy, "So, they grounded you for a month. My parents did that too."

"Dad was gonna send me to an all-girl Catholic School," said Q, "but Mom talked him out of it."

"My dad wanted to send me to military school," said Timmy, "but Mom made him change his mind."

"Also," said Q, "Dad said you're no longer welcome in our house, and even Mom couldn't make him budge on that one."

"That's okay," said Timmy, "being around your parents feels kinda weird after what happened anyway."

They didn't notice that they'd passed by Teddy and Rachel.

"So," said Rachel, "Everything's back to normal."

"Hey," said Teddy, "I tried to get Timmy shipped off to military school, but Mom made it clear that she'll gut Dad with a dull spoon if he does that."

"Well," said Rachel, "You've made it this far under the same roof as your idiot brothers."

"But," said Teddy, "Can I last until I go to college with my sanity intact?"

"That," said Rachel, "Is the great mystery of our time."

They exchanged smirks.

End chapter.

Next time: A town construction project threatens to expose a crime that Kevin and the three Js comitted back in high school.