“What’s wrong with Daddy?” Lilly asked, holding tightly to Fenny’s hand as they headed down the corridor toward the performing area in the MGM Grand.

“He’s flushed his brain down the toilet, along with his dignity and self-respect,” Fenny sighed, looking over at Brad who was well on the way to being tanked before he had even gotten close to the stage. “You are seriously banned from EVER associating with Paul McDermott again.”

“But Paul’s my friend,” Brad pouted. “Besides, I’ve only had a little bit to drink.” He attempted to demonstrate his sobriety by walking in a straight line but tumbled into Colin who shot him daggers.

“We’ll have to get some coffee into him,” Ryan piped up. “Otherwise he might scare the kids.”

“Oh, I think kids would like my elephant impression,” Brad smirked.

“Oh please, no one wants to see tiny Dumbo come out to play,” Greg jeered.

“Can I see your elephant, Daddy?” Lilly asked wide-eyed.

“No sweetie, as much as I like it, I don’t think we should have you taken away by Child Protective Services,” Fenny mused, Lilly just looked confused.

“Having a few drinks loosens you up,” Brad protested.

“Yes, but a half a bottle of tequila and five margaritas is enough to loosen up half of Mexico,” Jeff remarked.

“Well, Paul says having a few drinks always helps him.”

“A few drinks? He’s drunk three days before and two days after a gig,” Greg mused.

“Paul’s my friend and he says it’s good,” Brad huffed as they piled into the dressing room.

“He also says bestiality, amputee porn, and drinking bong water are good,” Fenny scorned.

“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it,” Drew remarked as he sauntered past and stopped to look at Brad who appeared to be swaying. “I’ll get him some coffee.”

“I don’t need coffee,” Brad huffed. “I’m fine,” he added as he lost his balance and fell into Colin again.

“Do that again and I’m going to hurt you,” Colin said bluntly as he hunted out a clean shirt.

“You people are no fun,” Brad muttered as he staggered to the corner and fell into a heap in a chair.

“Paul.”

“Yes Rich,” he replied as he climbed onto a sideboard to reach part of the kitchen wall.

“Your kitchen looks like the inside of a plant pot, mate,” Rich mused.

“Mate, it’s Moroccan terracotta,” Paul grumbled.

“Paul.”

“Yes Rich.”

“Your kitchen makes me think of the Big Orange.”

“Rich.”

“Yes mate.”

“Get fucked,” Paul scorned and then smiled. “It’ll look nice when it’s finished.”

“It doesn’t look nice now, why go to the pain of waiting until it’s finished.”

“Do you want several litres of Moroccan terracotta paint inserted into your colon?”

“It’ll still look better than your kitchen,” Rich laughed. “Is it Paul McDermott’s kitchen or is it the surface or Mars?”

“Is it the surface of Mars or is it Richard Fidler’s colon?” Paul jeered as he jumped down from the sideboard and grabbed his half-drunk beer from the floor. “We sent in a team of designers to decipher the colour and give Richard a new colon.” Rich cracked up laughing and Paul was soon to follow until they heard the front door slam.

“Ohh, sounds like Gina, mate,” Rich jeered.

“Yeah, thanks mate. Think I could have worked that one out on my own,” Paul grumbled as Gina appeared and stopped at the door to admire the colour.

“It looks like a plant pot,” she remarked.

“See, I told you,” Rich perked and Paul gave him the finger.

“Hiya Rich,” Gina smiled as she sauntered into the room. “I can’t believe he roped you in to helping him,” she added and looked over at Paul who quickly focussed his attention back on the wall.

“It was fun until I got glued to the tiles,” Rich shrugged.

“You’ve re-tiled the bathroom?” Gina gasped.

“Every last one,” Rich nodded. “Didn’t we?”

“Well, minus all the ones Rich broke,” Paul piped up.

“He didn’t put enough glue on,” Rich mused.

“Least I didn’t get glued to them,” Paul retorted.

“At least it doesn’t feel like being in a jack O lantern in my kitchen.”

“It’s Moroccan terracotta, mate,” Paul huffed as he turned back to Rich.

“It’s like Garfield’s entrails.”

Paul gave Rich a wry smile and Rich’s face fell. “Oh shit.” But before he could do anything, Paul had grabbed him and painted his face Moroccan terracotta.

“You bastard,” Rich yelped as Paul sniggered.

“Are you children quite finished?” Gina mused.

“He keeps riding me about the colour of our kitchen,” Paul said innocently.

“You painted me terracotta!” Rich shrieked.

“It suits you,” Paul jeered before his face was smothered by a paintbrush and left dripping with terracotta paint.

“Now you’re even,” Gina chided as Paul frowned at her and Rich doubled over laughing.

“What’s that?” Lilly asked, pointing.

“A microphone,” Fenny sighed.

“What’s that?”

“A curtain.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s where they hang annoying children,” Fenny grumbled as Lilly bounced in her front row seat.

Lilly frowned for a moment then grinned, “Greggy.”

Fenny looked up to see Greg pushing his way past people to get to her. He signed a couple of autographs and tried to avoid having his retinas burned by the flashes of cameras. “Fen, we need you backstage pronto.”

“Why? What’s he done?”

“You’ll see,” Greg grumbled as Fenny got to her feet.

“Grab the kid, will you,” she added and pushed past him.

“Hi unkie Greg,” Lilly grinned.

“Yeah, let’s play a game called ‘see who can be quiet the longest’,” Greg perked as he lifted her into his arms.

Fenny hurried past the MGM workers to the dressing room door and opened it. The others were standing around and looking generally annoyed.

“Hi,” Fenny winced. “Where is…” she paused as a snore resonated through the room and looked over to see Brad passed out in a chair in the corner.

“He’s out,” Ryan huffed. “We’ve tried everything to wake him.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Fenny mumbled, feeling ashamed that Brad could be so stupid.

“You’re sorry, we’re a man down now,” Ryan sighed.

“Oh we’ll manage, it’s not the first time Brad’s done something stupid and missed a show,” Drew cut in.

“Yeah, but Mandy sure as hell was…” Jeff paused, “Enjoying Vegas, Fen?”

“Tell me I’m not going to run into anything?” Greg pleaded as he tried to find his way into the dressing room, Lilly grinning inanely as she sported his glasses. Colin guided Greg into the room and wrestled his specs from Lilly who was reluctant to give them back.

“So, what are we going to do?” Kathy Kinney asked as she appeared, “Are we just gonna leave the big idiot here?”

“Are you gonna carry him?” Colin jeered.

“And what do we do about a replacement?” Jeff queried.

“Well, Fen does improv,” Greg piped up.

“Did improv, thank you. DID!” Fenny countered.

“Well, that’s sorted then,” Ryan perked.

“I haven’t done theatre sports in years. I’ll make a complete fool of myself…”

“And we never do that?” Drew laughed.

“Besides I’m nowhere near as good as you guys…”

“Excuses, excuses, Fenella,” Greg teased.

“And who’s going to look after Lilly, huh?” Fenny declared, her stomach doing back flips.

“Lilly can watch her Daddy, make sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue,” Greg mused.

“Don’t be stupid,” Fenny cussed.

“Lilly, do you think Fenny here should perform on stage?” Greg asked, kneeling down to talk to the child.

“Yeah!” Lilly grinned. “My other Mommy would never do that.”

“Oh god,” Fenny groaned.

“Bye mate,” Paul chirped as he closed the door after he and Gina had seen Rich off.

“I don’t know how he’s going to explain about his face being orange,” Gina mused.

“Yeah, speaking of that,” Paul scorned. “You better start running.”

“Oh crap,” Gina gasped and took off down the hall with Paul in hot pursuit. He chased her through the main bedroom, guestroom, and bathroom and eventually ended up in what was to be Paul’s studio. “NO!” she squealed, as he placed a terracotta soaked hand onto her face.

“Ew,” she giggled as he wiped the rest on his jeans. “You’re an arsehole.”

“Does this mean you’re in a better mood?” he asked, pinning her to the wall.

“Sort of. Well, I got the job.”

“I never doubted you.”

“There’s one tiny little downside though,” she sighed, wiping the paint from her face onto his paint-covered t-shirt.

“You have to pash your co-anchor?” he teased.

“No. Freya has just scored the job as weather girl.”

“NO!” he groaned and buried his face into her shoulder.

“Unfortunately yes, but I’m going to be mature and just get on with it.”

“You sure? We can emigrate to New Zealand or something?”

“And give her what she wants? No way.”

“What does she want?”

Gina smiled wryly and wrapped her arms around him. “My job, my happiness, and my sanity, but mostly you.”

“Does this mean you don’t want to use my knob as a hood ornament anymore?” Paul breathed, his lips edging closer to hers.

“Well, I can currently think of other things to do with it,” she chided, inching her lips closer to his until they shared a brief kiss.

“You taste like paint,” he announced, licking his lips.

“So do you. We should wash our mouths out or something before we’re poisoned,” Gina agreed and pulled away from him.

“I can learn to live with it,” he pouted. “With a mouthful of paint, you could turn various parts of me different colours.”

“I don’t need paint for that, hon,” Gina winked as she sauntered out of the room. Paul let out a low growl and then hurried after her.

“You do realise when we leave tonight I will kill you,” Fenny whispered to Greg as they waited backstage.

“You gotta beat Amy and my wife to it first,” Greg remarked with a grin.

“So, if we find Greg sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood tomorrow, we can blame you?” Jeff asked.

“It’d be like Clue,” Ryan piped up. “Fenella Grey in the hotel with the semi-automatic weapon.”

“No, the cord from the complimentary hotel robe,” Colin enthused.

“Then there’d be no blood,” Ryan countered.

“There has to be blood?”

“I said there was a pool of blood,” Jeff cut in.

“Can we stop discussing my death?” Greg huffed.

“But it’s cheered us all up,” Chip mused.

“Oh, Drew’s starting the introductions,” Kathy announced.

“Oh god, I’m going to make a fool of myself,” Fenny whined.

“You can’t be any worse than Drew,” Greg chided and the others sniggered and then hushed themselves as they heard their names called. Fenny was second last, with only Ryan behind her. She waited nervously as Drew started her introduction.

“And our special guest for this evening, Fenny Sherwood. Yes girls, she’s married to Brad.”

“Oh, that’s right Drew, turn the crowd against me early,” Fenny mumbled as she jogged out and joined the others on stage.

“Okay, let’s get the ball rolling. We’re going to start with a game called ‘Questions Only’ and we’ll start out with Greg and Fenny,” Drew began. Fenny looked mortified and Greg laughed as she followed him to centre stage. “Greg and Fenny are gonna start. It’s a great game called ‘Questions Only’, and what happens is they do a scene for you and they have to keep the whole conversation going and meaning something by only asking questions. It’s really hard to do, and what happens is when they make a mistake, if they say something that’s not a question then you get to buzz them out by going,” Drew made a buzzing noise and encouraged the audience to copy him. “And then someone else takes their place. Now, what I need from you guys is a specific place for them to be.” The audience yelled out a tonne of suggestions and Drew eventually picked one. “A kidnappers den. You have to be in a kidnappers den,” he grinned.

Fenny looked at Greg. He raised an eyebrow and then they began. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Do you want me to hurt you?” Fenny countered.

“Would you point that gun somewhere else?”

“Would you prefer it to be aimed at your head?”

“Could you possibly aim lower?”

“Is there anything lower than you?”

Greg’s mouth fell open. “You’re mean,” he grumbled and marched off as Colin bounded forward.

“Don’t suppose you have a big black car somewhere?” he asked, causing everyone on stage but Kathy and Jeff to snigger.

“What happened to yours?”

“Would you believe me if I said some fat guy with glasses helped steal it?”

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“Aren’t I funny?”

Fenny looked blankly at Colin and then started giggling. She was buzzed and headed back in the line behind Jeff.

“I have the distinct feeling I’m missing out on a joke,” Jeff whispered as Chip winked at her.

Brad felt a searing pain in his neck and then realised it was because his head was lolling over the back of the chair he was in. He lifted it gingerly and felt the full force of the throbbing headache he’d been left with.

“Daddy,” Lilly perked, noticing the movement in her father and climbed onto his lap.

“Where’s Fen?” he mumbled, using one hand to rub his temples.

“On stage,” Lilly perked.

“What? Why?”

“Cos you was sleeping.”

“Crap,” Brad breathed.

“Crap?”

“You never heard me say that,” Brad groaned.

“Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap,” Lilly babbled and Brad quickly hushed her. “Be quiet for Daddy, sweetie.” Brad placed Lilly back on the floor and then tentatively got to his feet. He could hear the muffled cheers of the audience and figured it’d be best if he just went back to his hotel room and crashed. He swept Lilly up into his arms and made sure the coast was clear before trying to remember the way out. Unfortunately he was hungover and dizzy and ended up stuck in the most crowded part of the casino. The sights and sounds made his head feel like it was about to explode and eventually he collapsed onto a padded sofa in the bar area.

“Daddy, are you still sleepy?” Lilly asked, looking annoyed at her father who had his eyes closed and was rubbing his temples. The inky darkness that appealed so much engulfed him again until he was greeted with the slap of a hand on his leg.

“You do realise anyone could have taken off with your daughter?”

Brad’s eyes popped open and it took a minute to realise he wasn’t still dreaming. “Ritza!”

“You should be ashamed! And why on earth do you look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a wallaby?”

“I drank a little too much at dinner,” Brad groaned as he strained to sit up. “What are you doing here?”

“I had nothing else to do.”

Brad looked at the pain of Ritza’s face and sobered a little. “Where’s Gus?”

“With his dad in Florida.”

“I thought Marco…”

“He was there when I got back. Informed me I was an unfit parent, turned Gus against me, and they’re spending the weekend at Disneyworld.”

“I’m so sorry,” Brad gasped as he put a comforting arm around Ritza.

“Thanks,” she breathed. “I’ve been thinking about taking Gus back to Australia. More hiding places for the body of his father there.” Brad looked at Ritza shocked and she smiled. “Anyway, enough of my problems. Why aren’t you watching your wife? I never thought Fen had it in her, she’s brilliant.”

“Because I’m feeling like an ass and just want to go to bed.”

“Nice to see you never change,” Ritza teased. “How about I take Lilly to watch Fen and you go and sober up so that you can at least try and fight when Fen rips you to pieces later.”

“Thanks for the words of comfort,” he grumbled, running his fingers through his hair.

“I thought it was a warning,” she mused. “Now go before you end up spending the night under the blackjack table.”

“Yeah, going. Be good for Ritza,” he said as sternly as he could to Lilly who smiled sweetly at him.

“Shall we go watch Fenny on stage?” Ritza perked.

Lilly nodded, “Daddy an ass.”

“And we’ll teach you not to use that word while we’re at it,” Ritza mumbled.

“I can’t believe you re-tiled the entire bathroom,” Gina gasped, taking a final look at the freshly moulded tiles.

“And to think they pay people vast amounts of money to host those renovation shows and they don’t even know how to sand a piece of wood,” Paul perked.

“Yeah, that Joanna Griggs woman should never have been given her own show.”

“Hey, lay off Joanna, she’s my friend,” Paul huffed in reference to the blonde, ex-swimmer with whom he regularly flirted on Good News Week.

“Oh please, the woman looks like a mullet in a blonde wig,” Gina teased as she switched off the bathroom light and headed back toward the living room.

“I think she’s hot,” he grinned.

“You only reach her knees,” she countered.

“And you do your best work on yours.” He then bit his lip. “Oops”

She turned and tried to look angry, “And to think I brought you dinner.”

“You did? You brought me food? Where?” he enthused; he’d been so busy all afternoon he’d forgotten to eat.

“I brought us a picnic,” Gina declared as she walked over to a picnic basket in the middle of the room, a checked blanket strewn on top of it.

“You made a picnic even after I’d been such a fuckwit,” Paul pouted as Gina spread the blanket out on the bare floorboards.

“Yes, which shows what a weak, pathetic woman I am,” she sighed. He joined her on the blanket as she started rifling through the basket. “I cooked a chicken and there’s some fresh bread and…”

“Genie, can we talk for a minute,” he asked quietly.

“Why? What have you done now?” she asked as she turned to look at him.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am sorry about giving your money to Freya, and if it’s any consolation, I plan to earn that money back. I’m going to call Cam and Mick in the morning and start organising things.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she sighed. “It’s only money, man. There’s more important things in the world.”

“Who would have thought a month ago we were fighting for our lives, huh?” Paul agreed. “I’m still getting you money back though.”

They fell silent for a moment as Gina fiddled nervously with the lid of a tub of coleslaw. “Paul, if you ever left me for her…I don’t know what I’d do.”

“What? You think I’m crazy enough to make that decision twice?” Paul gasped. Gina raised an eyebrow. “Oh hey, I’d have to be very, very drunk.”

She gave him a small smile before she leapt forward and pinned him to the blanket. “Promise me you’ll have nothing else to do with that woman,” she breathed as she straddled him.

“I, Paul McDermott, promise to the lord almighty never, ever to even think about Freya Stevenson again, and if I do, may he strike me down and have my penis severed by a lightening bolt, amen.”

“I think you’re getting God and Zeus confused,” Gina giggled.

“With all the chemicals I’ve inhaled today I’m hardly surprised,” he mused. “So, are we eating dinner or are we going to do the deed for the first time in our house?”

“We have no curtains,” Gina pointed out.

“Well then, it’ll be one way to introduce ourselves to the neighbours that they won’t forget,” he grinned as he pulled her into his arms. Their lips had just touched when the doorbell gave it usual half a chime and then crackled.

“There goes the sex and the food,” she breathed and rolled off of him. “Go answer it.”

Fenny followed the others off stage to the cheers of the audience. She was on such a high she’d forgotten about Brad, being a step-mom, nearly being raped, and the whole prostitution thing.

“Well done, Fen,” Drew grinned and patted her on the back. “I think you should be on tomorrow night as well.”

“I agree,” Ryan piped up. “Teach that ass a lesson.”

“Oh hey, it was an emergency. I just filled in, I don’t want to take Brad’s place,” Fenny babbled.

“Don’t be so darn modest,” Greg smiled. “I told you she was good.”

“That kidnappers den thing was a bit odd,” Jeff remarked. “I would never have thought up half those ideas you guys did.”

“It’s a talent,” Chip smiled.

“I mean, big black cars?” Jeff continued.

“Don’t you watch movies?” Colin mused. “All bad guys have big black cars.”

“Or vans,” Greg countered.

“Or boats,” Fenny added. “And they love hotels.”

Jeff looked at them all strangely and disappeared into the restroom.

“I should go, considering Brad appears to have,” Fenny declared, looking at the corner where Brad had been.

“I’ll go with you,” Greg piped up. They wished the others goodnight and headed toward their rooms. They reached the elevator and were waiting when a voice caused the both to turn around.

“Finally, been looking for you everywhere,” Ritza panted.

“Ritza,” Fenny gasped.

“Ritz,” Greg added equally as shocked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Long story. I took over looking after Lilly when I found Brad passed out in the casino.”

“I’ll kill him,” Fenny announced without thinking.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Ritza mused. “Lilly’s tired though, better get her to bed.”

Fenny looked down at the small child who was rubbing her eyes and picked her up. Lilly snuggled into her shoulder. “You ready for bed?” she asked and Lilly nodded.

“I’ll go and we’ll catch up in the morning, yeah?” Fenny nodded.

“Sure, I look forward to it,” Ritza smiled as she and Greg watched Fenny disappear into the elevator.

“What are you doing now, pumpkin?” Greg asked, looking at Ritza who looked distracted.

“I haven’t decided. Somewhere between watching cable porn and crying myself to sleep,” Ritza replied.

“Fancy getting wasted on tequila?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Ritza laughed as the elevator doors clicked open.

Fenny unlocked her hotel room door and found that Brad had left a small beside light on. He was snoring softly into the pillow and hadn’t even gotten undressed. Fenny placed Lilly on her bed and helped her into her pajamas.

“Okay, now go wait for me in the bathroom, so we can get your teeth brushed,” Fenny said quietly. Lilly yawned and then padded into the ensuite. Fenny turned her attention to Brad. She walked over to the bed and looked at him angrily. He’d made a fool of himself, embarrassed her, annoyed his friends, and set a bad example to his daughter. She placed a hand on her shoulder and dug her nails in.

“JESUS FUC…FOCACCHIA,” Brad yelped somehow managing to censor himself. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“Because we need to have words, and believe me when I say none of them are nice,” Fenny hissed.