Spotted Mick

"This had better be good." Vogue sputters into the phone, not having bothered to look at the caller ID to see who could be calling such a late hour.

"Oh, it's you, Lace. Sure. No problem. No, no, I was just... uh... sleeping.. What's the problem?" She sits up in her bed and listens intently to the amazing tale of rabid monarchs and crossed signals her friend unfolds, in, seemingly, one long and anxious breath.

"You're kidding? A trip to London? Crazy Queen? Potential furniture abuse? I'M THERE!" Vogue bolts out of bed and throws enough together to last her through what she hopes to be another wild weekend with her neurotic therapist and running buddy--Lace.

"Let's see... elegant dinner attire... check.... stealthy trench coat with matching boots, hat, and Audrey Hepburn shades...check, check, check...tiara...check...oh, and just a few more things..." Three suitcases later, Vogue dashes to the awaiting car and to her ticket for adventure-- London style.

"Where did I put that hypnotherapy for dummies book anyway?"

Meeting Vogue at the airport is a frantic Lace, "Hurry, hurry, we've no time to talk. We have to get to that party--pronto-- or we'll miss our opportunity with the Queen."

"But, I'm not so sure I know how to "unhypnotize" someone, Lace. You've read the headlines. Mauritzio has been arrested ten times already for verbally assaulting Kept autoqraph seekers. The poor boy's oedipal outbursts are legendary."

"Don't worry about that, Vogue, we'll figure it out. We have to."

Mikus Ballard, ever the social maven, had meticulously prepared for this night and what was to be THE hottest social ticket of the year. He had gone to extreme lengths to hire the hottest new event planner on the scene, known only as "little Jon" to those in the know. He wanted things to be perfect and wasn't taking any chances. Even the bartenders were being flown in from France that very evening. The Queen would be in attendance and he could not afford another fiasco like the one eight years ago that claimed his distinguished and rare set of Louis XVI Empire Fauteuils a la reines.

Just to be sure, Mikus was also flying in an animal behaviorist, specializing in big cats, from an American zoo to control any "special circumstances" should they again arise.

...

Meanwhile, a reluctant keepee is being dressed and readied. Jerry, Rachel and Suzanne stand waiting for his answer to their last question.

"Hot, hot, hot" he says, sighing loudly. "How many times I gotta tell you broads you look hot before you'll let me out of this monkey suit?"

"Oh, hush dear, and be the beautiful fool you are--only quietly. Here, wear this." Jerry hands Seth a mask to cover his face.

"I didn't know this was a costume party?" He says, his excitement growing. "Cause I wanna go as a chick with big ole bazoongas! Dis one time, I went to a party as a cheerleader..."

"No, it's not a masquerade, but the Queen is going to be at this party tonight and I don't want her to recognize you, not after the whole banana thing. Mikus almost didn't let me bring you, but his event planner didn't see anything wrong with it, so he's allowing you-- WITH the mask, of course."

"Aw, this Sucks!" Seth shouts as he places the George Bush mask over his head. "Howm I gonna eat with this stupid thing on!"

....