Tickle Tantrum Part 7/?
Tickle Tantrum
Chapter 7/?
Pairing Miranda/Andy
Rating: Um PG 13 maybe... eventually?
Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I wish to own anything at all to do with either Mr Blobby or Noel Edmonds! They just seemed to fit in to the story nicely so there! Pffffftttttt! Gunge me if ya can catch me beard boy! Double Pffffffttttttt!!!!!
For more disclaimers - See Part 1
AN 1 Any and all understanding of the American legal system that I possess is completely down to a very substantial and probably unhealthy diet of American cop/lawyer shows. And this is why I’ve handed Miranda’s problem to the specific unit I have, because of the nature of the complaint. So any inaccuracies are purely the product of my own mind and Dick Wolf’s proliferation of shows. Pffft.
AN 2 For them as don’t hail from Blighty or its’ near neighbours, you can find out more about Mr Blobby and Noel Edmond’s House Party on Google. J “Blobbyblobbyblobby!”
***
Emily tossed and turned in her bed, deep in the grip of a disturbing dream. In her mind she was running as fast as she could through the halls of Runway. She was constantly stumbling and losing her balance, hindered in her flight not by fashionable four-inch heels, but by a pair of huge, pink, feet shaped slippers with yellow polka dots. She was desperately trying to get away from the phalanx of rotund and bright pink figures who were chasing her and chanting something that sounded like, “Bloptobismolblobbyblobbybismol.”
She knew she needed to get to Miranda’s office, she’d be safe there. Those hideous rampaging affronts to all things fashionable would never dare to invade the Dragon Lady’s Lair. As she ran she chanced a quick glance to see if her pursuers where getting closer and her jaw dropped as she suddenly realised she was being chased by mob of manic Mr Blobbys. She squealed and redoubled her efforts to escape. She’d ruddy-well hated Noel Edmund’s bloody House Party when she was a child!
Careening around a corner she sprinted as best she could past her own empty desk and propelled herself through Miranda’s office door slamming and locking it just as the first pink butterball crashed into Andy’s desk sending her computer hurtling to the floor. Panting the red head leant her forehead against the door while she tried to get her breath back.
Just as her heart rate had lowered to something closer to normal she heard a shuffling sound behind her. Whirling around her eyes bugged out at the room that was now filled with several dozen Mr Blobbys surrounding Miranda’s desk. She looked more closely and saw that what had been the editor’s desk was now actually a desk sized version of a hearing aid and sat on top of it was a maniacally grinning Noel Edmonds.
“Now HEAR this Ladies and Blobbys! We have this evening’s final contestant for the Gunge Tank! Remember it’s your calls that decide if Emily gets gunged or an all expenses paid make out session with Serena the Brazilian Bombshell. Call now but make sure to get the bill payers permission.”
Emily looked down at herself and blinked as she realised she was now tied to a chair inside some sort of Perspex cabinet outside of which Noel and the Blobbys were dancing. She pulled at the ropes holding her prisoner but to no avail.
“Just one more call and we get to Gunge her! Come on viewers, you can’t beat a good gunging.” Noel waved at Emily and gave her a thumbs-up sign as a line of Blobbys formed a bucket chain to fill the tank above her head.
Emily’s anger got the better of her and she started shouting.
“Get me out of here you sickening great Blanc Manges!!!!! And you Beard-Boy! I’m going to pluck you one hair at a time I swear!!!!” As she continued to bellow her threats the red head began to pull at her bindings like a madwoman.
One of the Blobby’s waved at Noel indicating that the gunge tank was now full and ready for action. Noel shook the phone in his hand at Emily.
“Come on folks just one more call and Red here meets Pink big time. Just one more little call, just one, just one…” he continued chanting as he shook the phone.
Suddenly the room was filled with the staccato ring tone of the phone, the sound so loud it seemed to echo from wall to wall.
“Gunge time!!!!! Let her rip Mr Blobby!”
Emily was caught mid scream as she looked up to see the cascade of neon pink gunge plunging down and hitting her square in the face. It filled her open mouth and streamed on past her shoulders covering the rest of her body.
“Hahahaha,” Edmonds taunted as he continued to wave the ringing phone, “As long as this keeps ringing we keep gunging!”
Emily managed to spit most of the foul tasting gunge from her mouth and was looking with alarm at the not so slowly filling tank, noting that the squidgy pink liquid was already covering her knees and continuing to rise. She could still hear the incessant and high pitched ring tone of the phone in Edmonds’ hand. As the gunge reached her chest and then her chin, the bearded host leered and called out to her.
“It’s for yoooohoooooo!!!!!!” And with that he tossed the phone over the Perspex wall and it fell with a nauseating plop into the swirling pink soup, just as the gunge covered the screaming red head completely.
Emily jerked up in her bed, suddenly wide awake, her own very real scream still echoing in her ears. She struggled to untangle herself from her knotted and sweat soaked blankets as she realised her phone on the bedside table was ringing ever louder as she continued wrestling with her bedclothes.
Her heart beat still galloping a mile a minute she finally pulled herself free and lunged for the phone, noting two things as she squinted at the brightly lit display screen. One was that the time was seven am and the second, unsurprisingly was that the caller id was flashing the word Miranda. Taking a quick breath and grabbing a pencil and scrap of paper from her purse on the floor, she pressed the receive button and managed a remarkably calm greeting.
“Yes Miranda?”
Hearing her assistant’s voice, Miranda launched into her list of instructions without preamble or explanation and Emily scribbled them diligently on both sides of her scrap of paper only stopping when the familiar dismissal of, ‘That’s all.’ was heard.
Emily blinked at her phone and flopped backward on the bed.
“Seven in the freaking morning! On a Saturday for God’s sake! Well at least she was speaking at a normal volume, or maybe that was just the phone amplifying the sound.”
She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand trying to decipher her own writing as she heaved herself out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. She continued her grumbling as she started the shower, knowing she’d have to hurry to complete Miranda’s instructions in the time she’d specified.
******
Emily carefully put the bags she was carrying on the stoop and used her free hand to open the door of the townhouse, before retrieving the bags and balancing two large Starbucks’ thermoses as she pushed the door closed with her foot. Looking around the foyer, she stopped, suddenly unsure what she should do next, wait, call out her presence or go looking for Miranda, they all had potentially perilous outcomes not least of all the mere chance of choosing the wrong one. She heaved a sigh of relief when she heard Miranda calling her name from deeper in the house, and headed toward what she knew was Miranda’s study at the end of the hall.
Miranda was sitting at her desk reading through what appeared to be a pad of long hand notes, but looked up as soon as Emily entered the room. She carefully placed the pad of notes into a folder and closed it before looking at the red head expectantly. Emily hastily placed the bags at the side of the desk and continued to hold the warm thermoses as she launched into a progress report on the instructions Miranda had given over the phone.
“The clothes you requested are in the bags. The white Donna Karan blouse you wanted was being used for the Halston accessories spread so I brought the other two available in the same style, one is cream and one is egg shell. I also brought the white scoop neck Karan and the wide collared Ralph Lauren from February’s issue.” Emily paused and braced herself for the onslaught of scathing remarks she was sure was on its way. She waited, and waited some more before chancing a glance at her boss. Miranda said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow and giving a very slight nod for Emily to continue. The bemused girl blinked in surprise but decided to be thankful for this unexpected reprieve and hurried on with the rest of the details.
“I’ve left notice for HR that Francesca no longer works at Runway and they should send her termination papers out immediately. Leslie said she had already rescheduled today’s appointment so she’ll be at the office for one o’clock as you requested. Likewise Nigel and everyone in the production team confirmed they will be waiting in the main conference room at two as per Andrea’s e-mail and text instructions.” Emily finished her monologue and waited for Miranda’s next set of instructions. Miranda stood up, picked up the folder and rounded the desk as she began to oblige Emily’s expectation.
“I want all of the layouts, editorial and scheduling for the June edition ready and available. Have Jocelyn gather all the accessories we’d agreed on and have the Haskell items there as well. Ensure that there is a decent supply of coffee for everyone, and we will need catering later in the evening.” She paused in front of Emily as she neatly relieved her startled assistant of the two thermoses.
“No one will be leaving until the edition is back on track and on schedule.” She continued past Emily and headed toward the kitchen throwing a nonchalant, “That’s all.” over her shoulder before disappearing from view.
Left behind in the study Emily was rather surprised at the fact that Miranda had apparently decided to decant her coffee herself, but gathered herself together with a characteristic declaration.
“Yes. Right. Runway,” and headed for the front door. Her annoyance over being called to work so early on a Saturday had been replaced by a surge of relief that Miranda was at least speaking at her normal quiet but audible volume. Emily also felt pleased that it had obviously fallen to Andrea to tell the Dragon Lady about the Haskell fiasco and not her, thank God. As far as she was concerned, having to work notwithstanding, the day was looking up.
****
Miranda put the folder on the kitchen table and then placed the thermoses on the centre island and reached for her favourite mug from the mug tree on the counter. Opening the first thermos she smiled at the rich aroma of the still scalding hot coffee. She added hot milk from the other thermos and then resealed them both before picking up the mug and taking her first sip of the day.
Sitting down at the table she opened the folder and continued to read through Andy’s notes and ideas that the girl had obviously written last night. She’d discovered the pad of notes when she’d come downstairs in search of her Blackberry. At first she was extremely confused as to why Andy had been outlining ideas for changes to the June edition until she’d flipped to the third page where Andy had jotted some points about the Haskell jewellery which mentioned its turquoise colour. A few pages after that she’d had to chuckle at a little section of notes in the margin where Andy had apparently had a mini rant to vent her frustration over Francesca’s cowardice and stupidity and the problems caused by them. Putting two and two together Miranda had formulated a fairly good understanding of the potential disaster she was facing and had planned accordingly as she rang Emily to get the damage control underway.
Miranda drank her coffee as she continued reading through Andy’s notes. The final five pages contained a rough but well written article on Miriam Haskell’s influence on early 20th century jewellery design. She found that even in its rough form the writing was both informative and quite engaging. This didn’t come as a surprise to Miranda as she had in fact read through all the articles that Andy had provided with her résumé and knew that the younger woman was a good writer with a great deal of talent and potential. As she finished reading the last of Andy’s notes an idea began to form in Miranda’s mind and she smiled with pleasure as she thought through how she was going to execute this new plan.
Getting up and rinsing her mug out Miranda smiled as she recalled some of the details that Emily had provided earlier. Apparently Andy was well and truly on top of things and had somehow found time before she’d gone to sleep, to reschedule Leslie and to organise the emergency meeting of the production staff. She chuckled as a thought crossed her mind, “Philip can keep Helen, I have Andrea and that’s what I call competence!”
The clock chimed the half hour prompting Miranda to head upstairs to wake Andy and to deliver the clothing that Emily had brought from Runway. As she made her way up the first flight of stairs she chuckled once more as she imagined the look that might have graced Emily’s face if she’d know the clothes Miranda had asked for were for Andrea. Picturing it in detail, Miranda let out a full throated laugh as she continued on to the guest room.
Chapter 7/?
Pairing Miranda/Andy
Rating: Um PG 13 maybe... eventually?
Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I wish to own anything at all to do with either Mr Blobby or Noel Edmonds! They just seemed to fit in to the story nicely so there! Pffffftttttt! Gunge me if ya can catch me beard boy! Double Pffffffttttttt!!!!!
For more disclaimers - See Part 1
AN 1 Any and all understanding of the American legal system that I possess is completely down to a very substantial and probably unhealthy diet of American cop/lawyer shows. And this is why I’ve handed Miranda’s problem to the specific unit I have, because of the nature of the complaint. So any inaccuracies are purely the product of my own mind and Dick Wolf’s proliferation of shows. Pffft.
AN 2 For them as don’t hail from Blighty or its’ near neighbours, you can find out more about Mr Blobby and Noel Edmond’s House Party on Google. J “Blobbyblobbyblobby!”
***
Emily tossed and turned in her bed, deep in the grip of a disturbing dream. In her mind she was running as fast as she could through the halls of Runway. She was constantly stumbling and losing her balance, hindered in her flight not by fashionable four-inch heels, but by a pair of huge, pink, feet shaped slippers with yellow polka dots. She was desperately trying to get away from the phalanx of rotund and bright pink figures who were chasing her and chanting something that sounded like, “Bloptobismolblobbyblobbybismol.”
She knew she needed to get to Miranda’s office, she’d be safe there. Those hideous rampaging affronts to all things fashionable would never dare to invade the Dragon Lady’s Lair. As she ran she chanced a quick glance to see if her pursuers where getting closer and her jaw dropped as she suddenly realised she was being chased by mob of manic Mr Blobbys. She squealed and redoubled her efforts to escape. She’d ruddy-well hated Noel Edmund’s bloody House Party when she was a child!
Careening around a corner she sprinted as best she could past her own empty desk and propelled herself through Miranda’s office door slamming and locking it just as the first pink butterball crashed into Andy’s desk sending her computer hurtling to the floor. Panting the red head leant her forehead against the door while she tried to get her breath back.
Just as her heart rate had lowered to something closer to normal she heard a shuffling sound behind her. Whirling around her eyes bugged out at the room that was now filled with several dozen Mr Blobbys surrounding Miranda’s desk. She looked more closely and saw that what had been the editor’s desk was now actually a desk sized version of a hearing aid and sat on top of it was a maniacally grinning Noel Edmonds.
“Now HEAR this Ladies and Blobbys! We have this evening’s final contestant for the Gunge Tank! Remember it’s your calls that decide if Emily gets gunged or an all expenses paid make out session with Serena the Brazilian Bombshell. Call now but make sure to get the bill payers permission.”
Emily looked down at herself and blinked as she realised she was now tied to a chair inside some sort of Perspex cabinet outside of which Noel and the Blobbys were dancing. She pulled at the ropes holding her prisoner but to no avail.
“Just one more call and we get to Gunge her! Come on viewers, you can’t beat a good gunging.” Noel waved at Emily and gave her a thumbs-up sign as a line of Blobbys formed a bucket chain to fill the tank above her head.
Emily’s anger got the better of her and she started shouting.
“Get me out of here you sickening great Blanc Manges!!!!! And you Beard-Boy! I’m going to pluck you one hair at a time I swear!!!!” As she continued to bellow her threats the red head began to pull at her bindings like a madwoman.
One of the Blobby’s waved at Noel indicating that the gunge tank was now full and ready for action. Noel shook the phone in his hand at Emily.
“Come on folks just one more call and Red here meets Pink big time. Just one more little call, just one, just one…” he continued chanting as he shook the phone.
Suddenly the room was filled with the staccato ring tone of the phone, the sound so loud it seemed to echo from wall to wall.
“Gunge time!!!!! Let her rip Mr Blobby!”
Emily was caught mid scream as she looked up to see the cascade of neon pink gunge plunging down and hitting her square in the face. It filled her open mouth and streamed on past her shoulders covering the rest of her body.
“Hahahaha,” Edmonds taunted as he continued to wave the ringing phone, “As long as this keeps ringing we keep gunging!”
Emily managed to spit most of the foul tasting gunge from her mouth and was looking with alarm at the not so slowly filling tank, noting that the squidgy pink liquid was already covering her knees and continuing to rise. She could still hear the incessant and high pitched ring tone of the phone in Edmonds’ hand. As the gunge reached her chest and then her chin, the bearded host leered and called out to her.
“It’s for yoooohoooooo!!!!!!” And with that he tossed the phone over the Perspex wall and it fell with a nauseating plop into the swirling pink soup, just as the gunge covered the screaming red head completely.
Emily jerked up in her bed, suddenly wide awake, her own very real scream still echoing in her ears. She struggled to untangle herself from her knotted and sweat soaked blankets as she realised her phone on the bedside table was ringing ever louder as she continued wrestling with her bedclothes.
Her heart beat still galloping a mile a minute she finally pulled herself free and lunged for the phone, noting two things as she squinted at the brightly lit display screen. One was that the time was seven am and the second, unsurprisingly was that the caller id was flashing the word Miranda. Taking a quick breath and grabbing a pencil and scrap of paper from her purse on the floor, she pressed the receive button and managed a remarkably calm greeting.
“Yes Miranda?”
Hearing her assistant’s voice, Miranda launched into her list of instructions without preamble or explanation and Emily scribbled them diligently on both sides of her scrap of paper only stopping when the familiar dismissal of, ‘That’s all.’ was heard.
Emily blinked at her phone and flopped backward on the bed.
“Seven in the freaking morning! On a Saturday for God’s sake! Well at least she was speaking at a normal volume, or maybe that was just the phone amplifying the sound.”
She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand trying to decipher her own writing as she heaved herself out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. She continued her grumbling as she started the shower, knowing she’d have to hurry to complete Miranda’s instructions in the time she’d specified.
******
Emily carefully put the bags she was carrying on the stoop and used her free hand to open the door of the townhouse, before retrieving the bags and balancing two large Starbucks’ thermoses as she pushed the door closed with her foot. Looking around the foyer, she stopped, suddenly unsure what she should do next, wait, call out her presence or go looking for Miranda, they all had potentially perilous outcomes not least of all the mere chance of choosing the wrong one. She heaved a sigh of relief when she heard Miranda calling her name from deeper in the house, and headed toward what she knew was Miranda’s study at the end of the hall.
Miranda was sitting at her desk reading through what appeared to be a pad of long hand notes, but looked up as soon as Emily entered the room. She carefully placed the pad of notes into a folder and closed it before looking at the red head expectantly. Emily hastily placed the bags at the side of the desk and continued to hold the warm thermoses as she launched into a progress report on the instructions Miranda had given over the phone.
“The clothes you requested are in the bags. The white Donna Karan blouse you wanted was being used for the Halston accessories spread so I brought the other two available in the same style, one is cream and one is egg shell. I also brought the white scoop neck Karan and the wide collared Ralph Lauren from February’s issue.” Emily paused and braced herself for the onslaught of scathing remarks she was sure was on its way. She waited, and waited some more before chancing a glance at her boss. Miranda said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow and giving a very slight nod for Emily to continue. The bemused girl blinked in surprise but decided to be thankful for this unexpected reprieve and hurried on with the rest of the details.
“I’ve left notice for HR that Francesca no longer works at Runway and they should send her termination papers out immediately. Leslie said she had already rescheduled today’s appointment so she’ll be at the office for one o’clock as you requested. Likewise Nigel and everyone in the production team confirmed they will be waiting in the main conference room at two as per Andrea’s e-mail and text instructions.” Emily finished her monologue and waited for Miranda’s next set of instructions. Miranda stood up, picked up the folder and rounded the desk as she began to oblige Emily’s expectation.
“I want all of the layouts, editorial and scheduling for the June edition ready and available. Have Jocelyn gather all the accessories we’d agreed on and have the Haskell items there as well. Ensure that there is a decent supply of coffee for everyone, and we will need catering later in the evening.” She paused in front of Emily as she neatly relieved her startled assistant of the two thermoses.
“No one will be leaving until the edition is back on track and on schedule.” She continued past Emily and headed toward the kitchen throwing a nonchalant, “That’s all.” over her shoulder before disappearing from view.
Left behind in the study Emily was rather surprised at the fact that Miranda had apparently decided to decant her coffee herself, but gathered herself together with a characteristic declaration.
“Yes. Right. Runway,” and headed for the front door. Her annoyance over being called to work so early on a Saturday had been replaced by a surge of relief that Miranda was at least speaking at her normal quiet but audible volume. Emily also felt pleased that it had obviously fallen to Andrea to tell the Dragon Lady about the Haskell fiasco and not her, thank God. As far as she was concerned, having to work notwithstanding, the day was looking up.
****
Miranda put the folder on the kitchen table and then placed the thermoses on the centre island and reached for her favourite mug from the mug tree on the counter. Opening the first thermos she smiled at the rich aroma of the still scalding hot coffee. She added hot milk from the other thermos and then resealed them both before picking up the mug and taking her first sip of the day.
Sitting down at the table she opened the folder and continued to read through Andy’s notes and ideas that the girl had obviously written last night. She’d discovered the pad of notes when she’d come downstairs in search of her Blackberry. At first she was extremely confused as to why Andy had been outlining ideas for changes to the June edition until she’d flipped to the third page where Andy had jotted some points about the Haskell jewellery which mentioned its turquoise colour. A few pages after that she’d had to chuckle at a little section of notes in the margin where Andy had apparently had a mini rant to vent her frustration over Francesca’s cowardice and stupidity and the problems caused by them. Putting two and two together Miranda had formulated a fairly good understanding of the potential disaster she was facing and had planned accordingly as she rang Emily to get the damage control underway.
Miranda drank her coffee as she continued reading through Andy’s notes. The final five pages contained a rough but well written article on Miriam Haskell’s influence on early 20th century jewellery design. She found that even in its rough form the writing was both informative and quite engaging. This didn’t come as a surprise to Miranda as she had in fact read through all the articles that Andy had provided with her résumé and knew that the younger woman was a good writer with a great deal of talent and potential. As she finished reading the last of Andy’s notes an idea began to form in Miranda’s mind and she smiled with pleasure as she thought through how she was going to execute this new plan.
Getting up and rinsing her mug out Miranda smiled as she recalled some of the details that Emily had provided earlier. Apparently Andy was well and truly on top of things and had somehow found time before she’d gone to sleep, to reschedule Leslie and to organise the emergency meeting of the production staff. She chuckled as a thought crossed her mind, “Philip can keep Helen, I have Andrea and that’s what I call competence!”
The clock chimed the half hour prompting Miranda to head upstairs to wake Andy and to deliver the clothing that Emily had brought from Runway. As she made her way up the first flight of stairs she chuckled once more as she imagined the look that might have graced Emily’s face if she’d know the clothes Miranda had asked for were for Andrea. Picturing it in detail, Miranda let out a full throated laugh as she continued on to the guest room.