The Boy Next Door - Weebly
The Boy Next Door - Weebly The Boy Next Door - Weebly
Um, I think she had to do some research for her column. I'm sure she’ll hand it in before the copy desk shuts down. Don't worry. Meanwhile, did you read my story on Mars 2120? Theme Restaurants: Not Just for Tourists Anymore. Has a nice ring to it, right? Nadine To: Mel Fuller From: Nadine Wilcock Subject: You are so dead WHERE ARE YOU??? George is furious. I tried to cover for you as best I could, but I don't think it worked very well. Are you having a breakdown? Because seriously, if you are, I think it's pretty selfish of you. I'm the one who should be having the breakdown. I mean, I'm the one who's getting married and all. I'm the one with the mother who's furious that I'm not wearing her wedding dress, and just spent $700 on one from some outlet in New Jersey. You don't have any right to have a breakdown. And I know you're going to say that you do, that this whole thing with John has destroyed your faith in men and all of that, but Mel, the truth is, your faith in men was destroyed a long time ago. I'll admit that when you first started seeing the guy, I thought there was something kind of sketchy about him, but now that I know what it is, I have to say, you could do a lot worse. A LOT worse. And I know you really love him and are perfectly miserable without him, so could you please just call the man and get back together with him? I mean, seriously, this has gone on long enough. There. I've said it. Now where the hell are you????? Nad To: Nadine Wilcock From: Mel Fuller Subject: Shhhh.... You want to know where I am? Well, right now I am squatting in an emergency stairwell, which just happens to have a wall that adjoins Mrs. Friedlander's living room. No, really! I'm using that satellite hook-in function George had installed in laptops. That one none of us could figure out how to use? Well, Tim showed me.... I know you think I'm crazy, but I can prove to you I'm not. And the way I can prove it is by telling you exactly what I'm hearing right now, and that's John Trent asking Max Friedlander where he was the night his aunt got her head bashed in. I am not the only one who is listening, either. John is wearing a wire. That's right. A WIRE. And there are a bunch of policemen in my apartment, listening to the same conversation I'm listening to. Only they are using headphones. I don't have to.
I can hear the whole thing just by pressing my ear against the wall. I am not supposed to be doing this. I am supposed to be in the coffee shop across the street, for my own protection. When they told me this, I was like, "Right!" As if I would wait in a coffee shop across the street when I could be here, getting the scoop first hand. Nadine, I am telling you, this is going to be the story of the year, maybe of the decade! And I am going to write it, and George is going to have no choice but to run it. He will be forced to admit that I am too good for Page Ten, and put me on hard news. I can feel it, Nadine. I can feel it in my bones! Okay, so here's what I'm hearing: John: I'm just saying, I could understand it, if you did. Max: Yeah, but I didn't. John: But I'd understand it if you did. I mean, look at my family. They are loaded. Loaded. It's a bit different in my case, but let's just say my grandfather hadn't left me any money, and had left it all to my grandmother. If she wasn't willing to loan me a few hundred bucks now and then, I'd flip out, too. Max: I never flipped out. John: Look, I know how it is. I mean, not really, but you know how I've been trying to live off just my reporter's salary? It's tough. If I ran out, and I knew I didn't have any more cash coming to me for a while, and I had a supermodel waiting downstairs in my rental car, and I went to my grandmother for a loan, and she said no...well, I might get mad, too. Max: Well...You know. It's like, what do they think? They're going to take it with them? John: Exactly. Max: I mean, there she was, sitting on this huge pile of cash, and the stupid bitch couldn't part with a couple thou? John: Like she'd even know it was missing. Max: Seriously. Like she'd even know it was missing. But no. I have to get the lecture. "If you'd learn to handle your money in a more responsible manner, you wouldn't be running out of it all the time. You need to learn to live within your means." John: Meanwhile, she's dropping twenty grand flying to the opera in Helsinki every couple months. Max: Yeah! I mean, yeah. John: It's enough to get a guy pretty hot under the collar. Max: It's more like the way she said it, you know. Like I was a little kid, or something. I mean, Christ, I'm thirty-five years old. All I wanted was five grand. Just five grand. John: Drop in the bucket to a woman like that.
- Page 170 and 171: could do for all the advice she's g
- Page 172 and 173: think we should just print a big bl
- Page 174 and 175: To: John Trent From: Michael Evere
- Page 176 and 177: If Trent doesn't sue the pants off
- Page 178 and 179: From: Sergeant Paul Reese Subject:
- Page 180 and 181: To: John Trent From: Mel Fuller S
- Page 182 and 183: To: Nadine Wilcock From: Mel Fulle
- Page 184 and 185: To: Mel Fuller From: Nadine Wilcoc
- Page 186 and 187: To: Mel Fuller From: Max Friedland
- Page 188 and 189: To: John Trent From: Mel Fuller S
- Page 190 and 191: To: Max Friedlander From: Sebastia
- Page 192 and 193: anyway. And what do you think happe
- Page 194 and 195: I would be honored to go to lunch w
- Page 196 and 197: I just spoke with John. He is so do
- Page 198 and 199: whole thing with John has sent you
- Page 200 and 201: Geez, calm down, will you? Max isn'
- Page 202 and 203: To: Tony Salerno From: Nadine Wilc
- Page 204 and 205: Tim Grabowski ; George Sanchez Fro
- Page 206 and 207: From: Mel Fuller Subject: Lunch Oh
- Page 208 and 209: To: George Sanchez From: Mel Fulle
- Page 210 and 211: To: Mel Fuller From: Nadine Wilcoc
- Page 212 and 213: From: Genevieve Randolph Trent Sub
- Page 214 and 215: But Nadine, I do now, I really beli
- Page 216 and 217: To: Mel Fuller From: Max Friedland
- Page 218 and 219: Don't try to tell me she won't, eit
- Page 222 and 223: Max: Don't you know it. Then she ha
- Page 224 and 225: "The perpetrator wished to throw in
- Page 226 and 227: To: Mel Fuller From: Vivica@sophis
- Page 228: To: Mel Fuller From: John Trent S
Um, I think she had to do some research for her column. I'm sure she’ll hand it in before<br />
the copy desk shuts down. Don't worry. Meanwhile, did you read my story on Mars 2120?<br />
<strong>The</strong>me Restaurants: Not Just for Tourists Anymore. Has a nice ring to it, right?<br />
Nadine<br />
To: Mel Fuller <br />
From: Nadine Wilcock <br />
Subject: You are so dead<br />
WHERE ARE YOU??? George is furious. I tried to cover for you as best I could, but I<br />
don't think it worked very well. Are you having a breakdown? Because seriously, if you are,<br />
I think it's pretty selfish of you. I'm the one who should be having the breakdown. I mean,<br />
I'm the one who's getting married and all. I'm the one with the mother who's furious that<br />
I'm not wearing her wedding dress, and just spent $700 on one from some outlet in New Jersey.<br />
You don't have any right to have a breakdown. And I know you're going to say that you do,<br />
that this whole thing with John has destroyed your faith in men and all of that, but Mel,<br />
the truth is, your faith in men was destroyed a long time ago. I'll admit that when you first<br />
started seeing the guy, I thought there was something kind of sketchy about him, but now that<br />
I know what it is, I have to say, you could do a lot worse. A LOT worse.<br />
And I know you really love him and are perfectly miserable without him, so could you<br />
please just call the man and get back together with him? I mean, seriously, this has gone<br />
on long enough. <strong>The</strong>re. I've said it. Now where the hell are you?????<br />
Nad<br />
To: Nadine Wilcock <br />
From: Mel Fuller <br />
Subject: Shhhh....<br />
You want to know where I am? Well, right now I am squatting in an emergency stairwell, which<br />
just happens to have a wall that adjoins Mrs. Friedlander's living room.<br />
No, really! I'm using that satellite hook-in function George had installed in laptops.<br />
That one none of us could figure out how to use? Well, Tim showed me....<br />
I know you think I'm crazy, but I can prove to you I'm not. And the way I can prove it is<br />
by telling you exactly what I'm hearing right now, and that's John Trent asking Max<br />
Friedlander where he was the night his aunt got her head bashed in.<br />
I am not the only one who is listening, either.<br />
John is wearing a wire.<br />
That's right. A WIRE. And there are a bunch of policemen in my apartment, listening to<br />
the same conversation I'm listening to. Only they are using headphones. I don't have to.
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