31 More Flavors of Dialogue

“Hey, Skip, you'll close today, won't you?” Steffen asked as he took off his apron. “I have to meet Stacy at the country club.”

Skip gritted his teeth. Steffen had been working at Baskin Robins for three weeks and he was already getting on Skip's last nerve. “Sure, of course you'll leave early, you can do whatever you want because Grandfather owns the whole town. Spoiled little rich kid.” Skip muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” asked Steffen, with a flip of his perfectly coiffed hair. “I couldn't hear you. I was too busy thinking about what I'm going to do with Stacy in the sauna after our tennis match.”

“I said sure, no problem. I need the extra money to pay for school anyway,”

“Atta boy!” said Steffen with his natural air of condescension. “I might swing by later with Victoria, you know, after I drop Stacy off for the night. I think I'll give her a call. She doesn't get off from work until ten, Stacy should be sound asleep by then.”

Skip shook his head and said nothing. He was far too used to Steffen's indiscriminate womanizing to care anymore. Besides, he knew from his psychology class that Steffen's promiscuity probably resulted from his lack of a father figure. Skip sighed as he remembered the tabloids and press that Steffen's dad generated when he left his wife and kids for the much younger, highly seductive exotic dancer Rhondie Winowieki.

“Vix? Hey, it's Steffen. I caught you on break? Good. Listen babe, what do you say to being picked up tonight around ten thirty and being given the ride of your life? I was talking about my little green Audi, get your mind out of the gutter baby.”

Skip mentally gagged. The womanizing and promiscuity he could stand, but Steffen's corniness never failed to nauseate him.

The bell above the door rang and an elderly gentleman walked in with a beautiful, much younger woman at his side, clinging on to his arm. Steffen looked up and froze, recognition gleaming in his eyes.

“You!” He whispered, almost inaudibly.

“I'm sorry, sonny, what did you say? You gotta speak up, my hearing's not what it used to be.” The old man said amiably.

“You mean you—you don't recognize me?” Steffen asked, visibly hurt.

“Didn't you hear the old man?” The dark, exotic, beautiful woman snapped. “He can't hear you. He doesn't recognize you. He doesn't know you. He doesn't WANT you, just like he didn't want your mom. He has me now. I satisfy every need he has ever had, and he doesn't miss your mom. And he doesn't miss you. So why don't you just leave? He has everything he could ever want right here.”

“I hate you!” Steffen yelled. And with one last pitiful glance at his father, he stormed out of the store.

The old man leaned in toward Skip and said in what he clearly thought was a whisper but was really a shout, “What was that young whipper snapper going on about?”

Skip thought it best not to remind the clearly senile old man about past grievances. “He was just sad because we don't have his favorite ice cream flavor, cheery cherry, but we'll be getting it back in tomorrow. Sir,” Skip asked, a studious gleam in his eye, “by any chance, was your mother extraordinarily old when you were conceived?” Skip knew that the older a mother was when she has a child, the more likely it is that the child will develop alzheimer's later in life.
Always the ambitious student, Skip viewed every experience as a learning opportunity and did not feel at all uncomfortable asking awkward questions for the sake of knowledge.

Unfortunately, Steffen's dad no longer possessed the mental capacity to interpret questions about his past. Instead of answering, he leaned over to Rhondie and asked her what kind of ice cream she wanted.

“I think I'll have chocolate, you're so sweet, thank you for buying it for me love. I'll make it up to you later,” she said sweetly.

Skip was shocked. It didn't take a master psychologist like Freud to see that Rhondie was not the husband-stealing tramp that everyone made her out to be. It also didn't take a genius to understand that while her behavior toward Steffen was petty and rude, he probably had it coming. Steffen was, after all, a spoiled brat with so few values and morals that he couldn't even remember his best friend's birthday. What a horrible guy.

Rhondie and Steffen's dad paid for their ice cream and left holding hands.

How beautiful, Skip thought, is true love.

A few hours later (ice cream parlors are notorious for lulls), a very prim old lady with a hearing aid walked in.

“Hello sir, my name is Meredith, and I would love to sample some of this delicious ice cream. Could you possibly find the time to scoop me out a bowl?”

“Yes, of course ma'am,” Skip said, jumping to his feet.

“While you're scooping, do you mind if I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Go right ahead.”

“Now, I know it isn't polite to gossip, but I have to know, was that Rhondie Winowiecki who just walked out of here?” she asked.

“Why, yes, I believe so.”

“Doesn't Steffen Howard work here as well?”

Skip groaned. Not another of Steffen's conquests, he thought. “Yes, he just left a couple of minutes ago.”

“Well,” she leaned in conspiratorily, “I just feel so sorry for that Steffen. You know, he knew Rhondie Winowieki before she bedded his father.”

“Really?” she had his interest now. “How did he know her?”

“Steffen was Rhondie's coach!” She explained.

“Of what?” Skip couldn't see Steffen coaching anyone in much of anything, except maybe how to get the perfect, even tan.

“Pole dancing,” she said wickedly. “Steffen taught pole dancing and stripping classes at the local Stopless Topless bar, and Rhondie was one of his favorite students. It came as such a blow to his heart when he discovered her affair with his father.”

“I can imagine,” Skip said, laughing to himself. He handed her the ice cream.

“Thanks for this, dear,” Meredith said, walking away to sit in a booth.

“Watch it, lady!” she turned suddenly and slammed into a large, boisterous nun in a walker.

“Oh, I'm so terribly sorry!” Meredith appologized.

“Don't worry about it—just get out of my way so I can get some ice cream!” The nun shouted.

“Yes, oh heaven's me,” Meredith turned around and sat in the nearest booth, slowly licking her ice cream cone.

“Skip! The name's Crazy Grace. You can call me Crazy, or you can call me Grace. Frankly, I don't care. I just want some ice cream!” She hobbled up to the counter, slamming her walker down to emphasize each word.

“Sure ma'am,” Skip asked, looking at the clock. “But I need to hurry, we close in three minutes and I have a psychology class I need to study for.”

“I'll take my time and you will deal with it!” Crazy Grace yelled/slammed.
The customer is always right, Skip recalled with a sigh. I guess Wilhelm Wundt will have to wait.

“I think I'll take...cheery cherry, because it reminds me of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. You got a problem with that?” she looked menacing with her habit tilted slightly to the side.

“No, ma'am,” Skip said, turning away to get the scooper.

Just then, the bell chimed, signaling someone's entry to the store.

“I'm sorry, we're closing...” Skip started to say.

“Shut up!” Skip didn't have to turn around to recognize his coworker's voice.

“Crazy Grace, you can't hide her forever!”

“I can and I will, don't underestimate the powers of those who work for the Lord!” She yelled back at him.

“But I love her!” Steffen proclaimed, shocking everyone.

“I didn't think you were capable of saying the word,” Skip managed.

“I do! I don't care if I've only ever seen her through the glass. I love her! I'm going to marry her and there's nothing you can do about it!” Steffen was breathing heavily, as if the strength it took to declare his love was too much for him to handle.

“Shows how much you know!” Crazy Grace snapped childishly. “I arranged for her to take her vows in...” she glanced at her watch. “Twelve minutes. And there's nothing you can do!”

Skip watched, befuddled, as the nun turned on her heels and hobbled out of the store.

“Noooooo!” Steffen yelled, sinking to his knees.

“What the heck is going on here?” Skip asked.

Steffen tried to answer, but Skip couldn't understand him through his laborious sobs.

“I think I can answer that!” Meredith said, standing up. “Steffen's in love with Rhondie's older sister, Heather, but she was already in the convent. She tried to leave when she realized her love of Steffen was real, but Crazy Grace said Steffen was a womanizer and would not grant her request. Now, apparently, Crazy Grace has changed the date of her vows so she'll be taking them...in nine minutes.”

Steffen began to cry harder.

Skip looked at Steffen's pitiable form, lying prostrate on the floor and something happened that he did not expect. He began to feel sorry for him. Sorry for the man who had caused him so much strife for so many weeks. He knew what he had to do.

“Did you say that the convent was down the street?” Skip asked?

Steffen and Meredith nodded.

“Let's go!”

It took Steffen only a moment to realize what Skip was getting at. “Let's go,” he said, and bolted
out of the store.

Skip and Meredith followed, pausing for only a moment to lock the store up. They caught up to Steffen easily though, as he was rather slow, and they ended up making it to the church at the same time.

They burst into the narthex just in time to hear the bells ring. Everyone in the front of the church looked up.

“I can't let you do this Heather!” Steffen yelled. “I'm in love with you!”

“Oh Steffen, I'm so sorry,” she began to cry softly. “You're too late.”

“What?” Steffen looked like someone had shot him.

“You heard her!” Crazy Grace yelled. “She is a nun! She has cloistered herself and is now forever in the service of the Lord!”

Just then, the door of the church opened and a beautiful woman in a Northwestern Bank uniform walked in. “I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm supposed to tell you that Father Gregory needs the church for a baptism.”

Skip turned to Steffen, expecting to see him crumpled on the floor. To Skip's surprise, Steffen's mouth was open and he was gliding over to where the bank teller was standing.

Figures, Skip thought as Crazy Grace and Heather filed out of the church. It just figures that he would move on from Heather in about a second. I should have known he didn't really love her. He's never loved anything but himself. Narcissistic little--

“Hey, I'm Steffen, do you have a map? Because I just lost myself in your eyes.”

Skip almost threw up.

The bank teller giggled. “I'm Wendy,” she said shyly.

They continued to talk as Father Gregory and company prepared the church for a baptism. With nothing else to do, Skip meandered over to Father Gregory.

“Hey, I'm Skip, and I'm just wondering, do you think that a person's personality is controlled by genetics or is it a product of the environment they are placed in?”

“Funny you should mention that...” Father Gregory began, “I think--” He was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. “Could you hold that thought, please?” He asked Skip.

“Sure.”

Father Gregory turned away, but Skip could still hear Snippets of his conversation. “What? Cancel the baptism? Why? Oh no, really? SIDS? That's a shame, cuts back my commission. It's too late for them to get a refund though, right? Well, you know what they say, every cloud has a silver lining. Alright, talk to you later.” He hung up the phone.

“Looks like we have an empty church,” he said.

“We'll take it!” Steffen and Wendy ran to the front of the church.

“We want to get married!” Wendy said breathlessly.

“But you just met her!” Skip accused.

“I don't care!” Steffen said. “I am in love.”

“Do you have any money?” Father Gregory asked.

“Plenty.”

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” and with that, Wendy Gonzalez became Wendy Howard.

Skip turned his back on the group at the front of the church and sighed. Even with three years of working in Baskin Robins, I still do not understand why people do what they do. I've had enough. I've had enough questioning and dealing with people. I can't do it anymore.

By this time, Skip had returned to the ice cream store, the source of all his problems. He unlocked the door and hung up his apron one last time.

“Good bye, ice cream. I have enough money to get me through my last year of psychology, amaybe, just maybe, then I'll be able to come back and work here. But I'm just too under-qualified. I'll never forget you.”

And with that, he turned around and walked into the sunset.

31 Flavors of Dialogue

“Welcome to Baskin Robins! My name is Skip, and I'll be your scooper today. What can I get for you?”
Willy meandered up to the counter. “Hey Skip. I think I'll take... oh God!”
“Sir, are you having a heart attack? I've read about the effects of heart attacks on family members, is your family prepared for this?” Skip asked, a little nosily.
“I'm not having a heart attack, though with the clogging in my arteries I'm sure one is bound to be on it's way. No son, I'm having a different kind of attack today,” Willy wheezed.
“What kind?” Skip asked again, hoping to use this man as an example for a class he had later tonight.
“Have you ever felt so guilty about something that you start to feel your soul die?” Willy asked.
“No,” Skip answered. “Can't say I have...”
“Ok stop pressuring me! I admit it! I skipped Weight Watchers today so I could come here and get ice cream! I'm weak! Don't you think I realize that I'm morbidly obese? Of course I do! And I want to be skinny but I can't. I have no will power man! I've never been skinny. You know what they call me?” Willy asked, reaching his stride.
“No sir, um can I recommend some low-fat vanilla?” asked Skip timidly.
“Low-fat? See, I bet you don't ask him if he wants low-fat!” Willy gestured wildly at the scrawny teenager who just walked in. “Of course you don't! Because he's skinny and beautiful. When I was that age do you know what they called me? Free Willy! After a freakin' whale! I bet he has a cool name like Slim or Tree. Is that what they call you tough guy?”
The teenager just stared at Willy.
“Of course they do! You know what Skip? I'll take some frozen yogurt, to go! How 'bout that Slim? I'm taking my yogurt and running to weight watchers! Who's a fatty now, Slim? Who's a fatty now?”
With a maniacal laugh, Willy left the store.

“Um, hey. Welcome to Baskin Robbins, I'm Skip. What can I get for you?” Skip asked, an apologetic look on his face.
After much debate, the scrawny teenager came to a decision. “I'll take chocolate. It's dark. Dark like my soul.”
“Oh a student of Freud I see! You know, he did say that childhood experiences as well as the dark sexual desires of the unconscious stimulate our behavior,” Skip reeled off, sounding, as usual, as if he had just swallowed a textbook.
“I don't need your analysis. You don't understand me, nobody does! Except my lord, the dark prince,” the teenager said.
“What was that? I didn't catch that, sorry,” said Skip.
“You'll all be sorry one day...” muttered the boy.
That one Skip heard perfectly. “Ok kid, why don't you pay for your ice cream and take your little Ted Bundy wannabe butt out of my store and never come back again.”

The teenager left with his black soul ice cream, nearly knocking over a tall, pretty blond.
“Excuse you,” she murmured, watching him sprint down the street.
As she walked in, Skip wondered if this is what heaven was like. She was a complete babe. Her long, blonde hair seemed to glow as it caught the sunlight, and she had miles upon miles of legs, accentuated nicely by her white dress. As he checked her out, he couldn't help thinking that the guys would be so jealous if he showed up to the frat party tonight with her on his arm.
“Ma'am I am so sorry about that!” Skip finally managed, the fantasies in his mind evident by the drool on his face.
“No worries,” the blond said vaguely. “Daddy'll take care of him.”
“Daddy?” Skip asked, thinking she was a super star's daughter.
“Yes, he's quite famous,” the blond said, confirming Skip's suspicions.
“Oh perhaps I've heard of him!” Skip spat a little bit, as he often did when he was overly excited. “What's his name?”
The blond smiled. “Zeus. He's the God of basically everything. If you're nice to me I'll put in a good word for you,” she said, winking.
“Right...” said Skip, doubting her sanity.
“And what's your name?”
“I'm Parthenia, modern day goddess of all things beautiful. Just like me!”
“Well you are beautiful, can't argue with that,” Skip agreed. “However I don't know that you're actually sane...”
His remark sent Parthenia's eyes ablaze. “It doesn't do to anger Zeus by insulting his most beautiful daughter. A thousand curses on your house! You'll be sorry!”
Just at that moment, a lady with a long white lab coat walked in.
“Parthenia! Girl you know you're not supposed to leave the group. The administration'll tan my hide if they knew you got away from me again. Do you want to go back into the padded room?” she asked.
“Zeus would never allow it! As soon as I get back to Mt. Olympus, I'll...I'll...” Parthenia stuttered.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on Parthenia, back to the hospital.” The woman ushered Parthenia back out to the street, it was now crowded with what were clearly mental patients. Just before she left, she turned to Skip.
“Sorry to bother you young man,” she said. “I was just taking a smoke and she got outta my sight. She's harmless, really. Just suffers from-”
“Delusions!” Skip interrupted triumphantly. “Yes I've read about them. If you'd let me spend a few moments studying her-”
“Studying? Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Don't think just because I've aged somewhat that I don't know what you young lads are thinking about! I can see it in your eyes you little sex hound!”
“No, you don't understand! That's not what I-”
“Boy you better not come near her again. She may be crazy, but we protect our own out there at the institution. I'll skin you alive if you try to take advantage of Parthenia!” She turned on her heels and stalked out.

Parthenia and her warden seemed to be Skip's last customers of the day. The next couple of hours passed very slow for Skip. Finally when the big clock on the wall reached 4:45, Skip decided to pack it in for the day. He took off his triangular hat and set it on the counter, thus beginning the closing ritual he'd long since perfected. After putting lids on the ice cream containers and putting the scoopers in a bucket of hot water to rinse, Skip again checked the clock. 4:52.“Might as well close early,” He said to himself. He started toward the door with the intent to flip the open sign when suddenly the door flung open and a man bounded in.
“Is there anyone behind me?” he asked, breathless.
“Um, no, not that I can see,” Skip began. “But listen man we're about to-”Skip stopped mid-sentence as the man turned around and revealed his face. The resemblance between him and Skip was uncanny.
“Look man,” the man said. “We've only got a few moments before the police come in! I need you to hide me quick!”
“What?” Skip asked, bewildered.
“Look man, they're after me! If they're not here already they will be any second! For the love of all things holy, hide me!”
“Ok,” Skip agreed. What a wonderful anecdote this would be for his psychology class! “Here, hide under the counter. That's it. So...What exactly did you do?”
“You see this light saber?” The man asked, gesturing to the stick he had stuck in the back of his pants.
“Yeah...”
“Well, I was waving it around time square and humming the Star Wars theme song really loud!”
“And...”
“And then I saw a donut monger! And I knew he was after me!”
“Donut monger?”
“Bluecoat! Swine! Popo!”
“Oh, the police! I gotcha. Wait, why would the police be after you?”
“Disturbing the peace!” The man said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I can't go to jail man, you don't know the psychological effects prison can have on you!”
“Well actually I do!” Skip assured him. “There's--”
Just then, a police officer walked into the store. The man under the counter tensed up, but Skip greeted him with his usual speech.
“Just a moment,” the officer said, backing out of the store with a cell phone in his hand. “I have to take this.”
“What the heck do you think you're doing Skip?” the man asked, a crazed look in his eye.
“Serving ice cream...” Skip said, turning around to grab a scooper.
“Then I'm really sorry I have to do this.”
The man grabbed his life saber and smashed it down against the back of Skip's head. Skip crumpled to the floor. The man grabbed his body and dragged it to the back of the store where they made their special homemade ice cream. This week, the special was Cheery Cherry. The man stripped Skip and threw him into the vat of cherries about to be chopped.
“Sorry man,” he said, looking mournfully down at Skip's mutilated body. “I can't go to jail.”
He threw his own clothes in the employee's lost and found and quickly changed into Skip's clothes. He returned to the front of the store just as the officer walked back in.
“Welcome to Baskin Robins!” he said, picking up the hat from the counter and pulling it on his head. “My name is Skip and I'll be your scooper today. Can I interest you in some Cheery Cherry?”

The fall

Mackenzie is on top of her penthouse apartment, as near to the ledge as she could possibly be. The past few weeks have taken an incredible toll on her, she looks sickeningly pale, more like a ghost than a seventeen year old girl. Under better circumstances she is beautiful, with her curly red hair and brilliant blue-grey eyes. Usually she took exemplary care of herself, but today her curls were tangled and ratty, and her normally flaming red hair has faded as though it was a piece of clothing washed too many times. But it is her eyes that distinguish her most from her normal character. They used to laugh, they used to brighten the world. Now they are solid grey, tormented, dead. Because she knows the truth. She knows betrayal, agony, and pain. She knows that she has been forever altered, that the world doesn't care. She knows there is no God. But today what she doesn't know is whether or not there is hope. She wants to jump, to end this charade people call life, because she hasn't been alive in three weeks. She is a shell. Her soul fled long ago, an act of preservation because something so pure could no longer dwell in a body as dirty as hers. Because Mackenzie was raped by her sister's boyfriend. And she knows that she can never tell anyone. She'd never inflict this kind of pain on anyone, let alone her sister and best friend. Suddenly the door to the roof opens and she hears her name being called.

Audrey [sobbing]- Mackenzie! I thought I'd find you up here. I need to talk to you. Mack, I can't deal with it. It's Spencer, he- [her voice breaks]

Mackenzie looks up, this is the moment she has been dreading since that fateful night three weeks ago. She should have jumped when she had the chance, yet, oddly enough, her sister was the one thing that stopped her.

Audrey [looking completely broken]- Spencer cheated on me Mack. He had sex with some other girl. How could he do that? He told me he loved me, and he lied. I don't understand!
Mackenzie [whispers]- What did he tell you?
Audrey- I got off the bus and he was at the station, waiting for me. I ran up to him and threw my arms around him and kissed him because I missed him so much. But he wasn't responsive, so I broke away and asked what's wrong. He took my hand and sat me on a bench and he told me that something happened while I was away. He told me that he met someone else, and he had sex with her. He had sex with her! While he was still with me! How could he do that? He told me that it meant nothing, that he still loved me, that the girl he was with seduced him. He said she cornered him and just started making out with him and that he just couldn't stop. He told me he missed me so much, and that I didn't understand how much pain my leaving had caused him. But I don't understand, I was only at camp for three weeks! He told me everything, what she was wearing, what they said, and I just sat there and took it all in. I just sat there Mack, I couldn't think, I was frozen. Finally I interrupted him, and I asked him who she was.


Mackenzie backed away, panic written all over her face. So this was the way he was going to play it. She might have known.

Mackenzie- [even quieter] What did he say?
Audrey- He wouldn't tell me the name. But I'll find out. And when I do I'm going to kill that-- that-- slut! He told me she knew he had a girlfriend but she just wouldn't take no for an answer and he felt sorry for her. I don't know what to do! I love him so much, but this, this I don't think I can forgive. He told me I was the only girl he ever loved. He told me I was the only one for him. And I believed him. How could I have been so blind? What is wrong with me? I hate him! I hate him how could he do that!? This is the worst feeling in the world. I have never felt so betrayed. He said I knew the girl, but I don't know of anyone who would be capable of something as terrible as this. How could anyone be so cold, so heartless?

Guilt, shame, agony, Mackenzie wasn't sure which emotion was playing on her features right now, all she knew was that her careful mask had slipped away, and her sister was about to discover everything.

Audrey- Mackenzie, what are you thinking? Why are you so quiet? What's wrong with you? Why do you look like that? You look as if, as if...Did you know about this?

Mackenzie looked into her sisters eyes and read the betrayal, now, as ever, she knew she couldn't lie to her sister. They were two halves of the same whole. Regardless of what Mackenzie said, Audrey would know the truth.

Mackenzie [barely audible]- Yes.
Audrey- Who was it? Mackenzie you have to tell me I'm you're sister you owe it to me more than whoever you're protecting! It was one of your friends, wasn't it? That's the only reason you wouldn't have told me. Who was it? Was it Alison? I can't believe you'd protect Alison over me! What kind of sister are you? How could you not tell me? Aren't I more important to you than she is?
Mackenzie- It wasn't Alison.
Audrey- Not Alison? Then who could it be? Paige? Megan? Hope?
Mackenzie- No.
Audrey- Then who...NO!

Realization colored Audrey's face. It was soon replaced with shock, followed quickly by agony. This was a new pain, even worse than when she learned of Spencer's infidelity. This was a thousand knives stabbing her repeatedly up and down her back. This was someone cutting through her chest with a dull scalpel and ripping out her heart with his bare hands.

Audrey- How could you do this to me?!? YOU ARE MY SISTER! MY FLESH AND BLOOD! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?
Mackenzie- No! It's not what you're thinking Audrey! I would never--
Audrey- Oh so you're going to deny it? You owe me the truth Mackenzie. And I'll know if you lie. Did you and Spencer have sex?
Mackenzie [consumed with guilt, the fear that it had been all her fault rekindled by the agony in her identical twin sister's eyes]- Yes.

That was all it took. Audrey, delirious with fury, lashed out and shoved her sister in her blinding anger.Mackenzie took one step backwards and balanced precariously on the edge for a moment. Then she fell.