D. Schmidt - They Ate the Waitress?

A fun comedy for the whole family. Featuring an all-male cast and starring newcomer Billy Incognita.

“She must be desperate for acting gigs,” he mumbled to himself. “I mean, to pretend to be a man so she can get a woman’s role… So, she’s a woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman? …Damn, this is even more confusing than that remake of Citizen Cane , the one where ‘Rosebud’ was the name of a hooker in Atlantic City.” He sighed resignedly, tossing the printout back into the trash. “She’s probably not the killer. But I should check out her dorm room, just in case.”

On his way back to the campus, he passed the same homeless-looking man standing on the corner. He had made a new sign: “Nihilist – I could get a job, but what’s the point?”

The main door of Jessica’s dorm was left unlocked during the day. He walked inside, hoping he didn’t look too out of place. Several students were playing Pain Ball in the lounge. A silver ball floated through the air, “hunting” the players. Whenever it found one, it gave them a powerful electric shock and zipped off in search of another player. The goal of the game was to trick the ball into going after the other players, usually by tossing small objects in their direction. The ball detected sound and motion and followed whatever the players threw. It was a strange game. No one could really win; they just played for the pleasure of inflicting pain on each other.

He walked down the main hall until he came to a door marked “Heather C – Resident Assistant.” The door muffled the sound of reggae music and someone singing along. He knocked on the door and waited. Nothing. He gave the door a swift kick with his boot. Someone inside said “Hold on, man!” The door opened to reveal a young woman with a blonde bob and baby blue skin. After tanning fell out of fashion, the spray-on tan companies switched to selling skin dye. Blue was a very popular color that year. “Um, hi?” she asked, brushing her hair from her face. She tapped a button on her wristwatch, silencing the music. The heavy smell of cherry-scented incense wafted into the hall.

“Hello there. My name is Nick and I’m collecting panties for charity. With your help, we can find a cure!”

“Did you need something,” she asked, laughing, “Or are you just here to hit on me? Or, I suppose, both?”

“Actually,” he said, fumbling in his pockets, “I have a plastic bag in my jacket filled to the brim with marijuana. But, the thing is, I really hate to smoke alone…”

“You think I’m going to invite you into my room just because you have cannabis? It’s a weed , man. Grows anywhere. It’s cheaper than ramen.”

“Not this stuff. It was genetically engineered by a mad scientist, grown by Tibetan monks, and then cursed by a witchdoctor. This is the stuff wet dreams are made of.”

“Well, all right,” she said reluctantly, waving him into her room. “But I’m not sleeping with you until I’m too stoned to remember that I slept with you…”

Nick didn’t have long to wait. Ten minutes later, Heather tossed her cigarette into a potted plant and flopped on the bed. “I’m ready for love,” she said sweetly. She stretched and sighed. Moving swiftly, he grabbed her wrists and handcuffed her to the bed frame.

“Oh! You’re kinky,” she said, pleasantly surprised.

“I sure am. You know what’s really kinky? Leaving you here for a couple of hours while I go visit another girl’s room…” He grabbed her keycard from her dresser and stepped into the hall, locking the door.

As a resident assistant, Heather’s keycard could access any room on her floor. Nick opened Jessica’s door slowly, peering inside. Her roommates were still out, probably at class. The dorm room was very large, even for three people. The beds had royal blue linens which matched the throw rug on the tile floor. One of the new, paper-thin televisions was pinned to the wall with thumbtacks. There were a few shelves and cabinets, but they held nothing out of the ordinary, just cosmetics, school supplies, and the girls’ pet rodents. Their names were scrawled in black marker on the side of their cage: “The Four Gerbils of the Apocalypse: Strife, War, Famine, and Cutie Pie.”

“Okay, Jessica, let’s see what you’ve got in your dresser.”

Nick began his search with her underwear drawer, where he found a photo frame. He switched it on and scrolled quickly through the images, mostly snapshots of Jessica and friends at school. But then he came to some photos of the restaurant. Lots of waiters and waitresses, work parties, and Todd Sweeney. He replaced the frame in her dresser and searched the other drawers. Other than a riding crop and a hot pink, leather corset, there was nothing of interest.

He decided to search the nightstand. There was a pair of thick paperbacks in the top drawer: “Shakespearian Somniloquence: Learn to Act in Your Sleep,” and “Transvestite Beauty Secrets: Men who Look Like Women Help Women to Also Look Like Women, But Better.” The second drawer was filled with candles, disposable lighters, and memory tabs of that month’s popular songs.

“Nothing else in here… I should check under the bed.” There was a small, orange box hiding in the back. He stretched to reach it, but froze. Someone in the hall was rattling the doorknob. He dove under the bed. From his hiding place, he saw a pair of brown leather boots and a pair of white sneakers walk into the room.

“Jessie left the door unlocked!” the boots groaned. “Again! She’s so damn irresponsible.”

“At least she cleaned up,” said the sneakers. “God knows I wasn’t going to.”

“Too bad we all can’t have a maid at home,” the boots said darkly. “Some of us even have to work for our tuition.”

“Can I help it if my daddy invented self-changing diapers? Being rich isn’t a choice! I was just born that way!”

“Alright, fine,” the boots said. “Forget it. Let’s do something fun. Do you want to go swimming?”

“Swimming?” The sneakers laughed. “What, in the public pool? People pee in there! If I wanted to soak in a stranger’s urine, I would visit that weird nightclub downtown.”

Jessica’s roommates spent the next few hours studying, eventually deciding to take a break to watch television. Finally, they had to leave for a party. As soon as they left the room, Nick slid out from his hiding place, dusted himself off, and climbed out the window. His transmitter interrupted his walk back to the car. He pulled it from his pocket, watching a tiny, holographic Gabrielle appear in midair.

“Why didn’t you trans me last night?” she pouted. “I was really hoping to hear from you.”

“Sorry about that,” he muttered. “I was called away suddenly. Family emergency.”

“Oh? What happened?” Her eyes were more suspicious than concerned.

“Bar fight.”

“What? How is that a family emergency?”

“My grandmother got stabbed. It was her fault, really. She shouldn’t have insulted those bikers.”

“Oh. That’s… odd. Well, are you doing anything right now? Why don’t you come over?”

“Why don’t you come to my place instead?” he suggested. “You can audition for me, I can grill us a couple steaks, and maybe afterwards we can try out my new hot tub. You can show me your voice and your… other talents.”

“Oh, you’re naughty, Nick,” she laughed.

He gave her an address in Portland. “I’m heading home, so you can come over now, if you like.”

“I’ll be there in twenty. Ciao, baby!”

Nick switched off his transmitter and climbed in his car. “She’s publicly fought with Renee,” he thought, lighting a cigarette. “I can imagine she could get inside the restaurant fairly easily. A woman like her would have no trouble flirting with an employee to get the alarm code. At this point, she’s a definite possibility.”