ASSISTANT TO MR. AIKEN

(a fiction)

Part One – The List

by Pam B.

So I ran into Nick, Clay's assistant and friend, and he was looking a little sniffly, so I asked what was wrong.

"Clay's gone to Indonesia without me. I feel a little like a Tattoo without his Mr. Rourke."

Now, I didn't know whether Nick was trying to be clever and snarky, or if he honestly didn't appreciate what he just implied about himself, so I stroked his arm a little and said, "Tell me about it. Stud."

He stammered some and replied, "Actually, Clay came up with that expression. I'm not completely sure what it means." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him almost subconsciously stroking something in his front pocket, so I licked my lips provocatively and before he knew what hit him, I reached in and grabbed whatever it was he found more amusing than me. I pulled out several pieces of paper, which had obviously been folded and unfolded many, many times.

"What's this?" I held the paper out of his reach. (Yes, Nick is considerably taller than me, so figure that one out for yourself.)

"Gimme that. It's mine."

"Oh, no, Nick. Possession is 90% of the law. I'm sure you and your secret stash of goody bags understand that rule." I opened the paper, and immediately noticed Clay's signature typing. The list was titled Nick's List of Things to Do While Ah'm I'm in Indonesia. "Nick, I'm going to read this, so you might as well get comfortable."

He didn't argue with me. I did read it, and thanks to my photographic memory, I'll share what I read with the rest of you. (Yes, Clay can actually get as long-winded as I can, hard to believe but true.)

1. Go to Doctors office and get shots for my trip. It was worth a try.

2. Clean the dog poo in the back yard. Just make sure to leave one or two discreet piles so that Justin G. gets a coupla surprises when he comes by to do the yardwork HAHA!

3. Remember to serve from the milk bottles on the left and to place the new bottles in from the right. As you use up each bottle, you have to shift the entahr lahn to the left. I know this has proven confusing for you in the past, but please trah to get it right, as I will know if you mess that mess up.

4. If any Broads call or stop by, Don't Talk to Them! Yes, they're awesome and sexy, and I know they can be very flattering, but if I'm being honest HAHA! they can run circles around you! Only one man has what it takes to keep up with the Broads HAHA! If they wanna touch any of my stuff, they'll have to wait till I get back HAHA!

5. Check into getting a trademark on HAHA! If I'm gonna crack myself up this much, I might as well get rich doing it HAHA! (See?)

6. I've ordered some matching shirts for my posse my group of like-minded friends who care about the benefits of inclusion, for when we go to Florida next month. Did I tell you I got us awesome seats for the Golden Girls 20th Anniversary Dinner Theater Showcase Revue? Anyway, when the shirts come, get one of my stitchwitchery kits - there should be one on the bottom shelf of the linen closet near the third guest bathroom - and try to put some bows or something feminine on Fran's shirt so that no one mistakes her for a man this time. But no tassels! HAHA! Fran can't pull that look off.

7. I've got the Tivo set, but make sure to watch American Idol on Tuesday night, so you can get Carrie's number. Then vote for her at least 50 times. I've left all four of my cellphones with you, so there's no excuse. Remember, text messaging is best.

8. Borrow one of my disguises (you know the one, it rhymes with Furberry Fat - HAHA! That sounds kinda smutty, but I swear if you wear it, you can travel virtually anywhere undetected) and go to the CBS studios where they tape American Idol. Don't worry. They tape it earlier on the West coast, so you can still get home in time to do the voting. I've been bringing gifts to Carrie every week, and she'd probably be up.set (HAHA!) if she didn't get one this week, even though she hasn't understood any of my gifts yet.

Nick, did I ever tell you how about my courtship with Carrie? I don't think I did. I meant to tell you when we were sitting in First Class last week, but I guess I slept all the way to Hawaii and back! I just don't know what it is about her. At first I thought it was that blond innocence that reminded me of Carmen, only taller. But then I remembered that I didn't miss Carmen for a single second after she was voted off! So then I thought maybe it's that I feel a kinship with Carrie because her name is just begging to be made into a clever sign, like I'm Aiken for Clay. Well, except for with her name, Carrie Underwood. Here are some sign ideas for when I get back:

I Will Carrie You to the Finals!

Carrie Gets Under My Skin!

I Want Carrie Under My Wood!

Carrie! Under wood be good! On Top wood be even better!

Carrie Wood You Get Under Me Please?

I think you get the idea. Pretty creative, huh? It's almost like my fans' creativity has rubbed off on me......hang on just a second....

Okay, I'm back!

Now, where was I? I know I was leaving you a to-do list, but I got a little carried away with my commentary....(or should I say Carried away? HAHA!) Oh yeah. I was telling you about my previous gifts. The first week of the semi-finals, I gave Carrie my CD, Measure of a Man, and she claimed to have no idea what it was. I was like, "It's a CD." And she's like, "I've heard of them, but I've never seen one before." Claims she's never listened to CDs on the farm! She didn't smile but she did say thank you.

So the next week, I brought her one of my Clay Aiken thongs. You know the ladies love to wear 'em. So again, she tells me she has no idea what it is. Well, I know she can't buy underwear, but surely she must wear them. Unless.... Anyway, I leaned into her and kinda whispered, "It's a thong. My fans tell me that wearing one gives them a little boost of confidence and energy. I thought it might help your performance." She was still looking confused, so I confessed to her, "I wear one myself sometimes." [NICK, DON'T TELL THIS TO ANYONE OR YOU. ARE. DEAD.] Then she looked down and said, "Your thongs are black." I said, "No, the Clay Aiken thongs only come in red. My idea." And she looked at my feet and said, "No, they're black, just like the cows on the farm." I laughed and said, "No, those aren't thongs. Those are my flip-flops."

Carrie: You have big feet.

Me: I know I do. *wink*

Carrie: It must be hard to find shoes.

Me: It's not so bad really. *wink*

Carrie: And you don't find it hard to run?

Me: HAHA! I can't run at all!

Carrie: I don't think I'd like feet that big.

Me: Are you sure *wink wink*? They don't get in the way *wink*.

Carrie. Yeah. I hope I haven't offended you by saying that. I'm not really comfortable talking to people. I mostly talk to animals and fish.

Me: That's okay. Believe me, big feet have some benefits *wink wink wink*.

Carrie: Okay. Thanks for the thong. I'll try to wear it tonight.

It was like we were having two separate conversations! And she just walked away looking confused! Man oh man, Nick. I don't think I could have winked anymore. Anyway, it turned out that she shoved that thong into one of her cowboy boots before she sang Piece of My Heart! I'm sure if she'd put it where she was supposed to, she could have given an angstier performance. Of course I still voted over a hundred times.

Then last week, I wanted to give her a video of me singing I Survived You. But instead I decided to just give her my phone number, since I wasn't getting anywhere with the presents. [Note: it was not because Jerome would kill me if he caught me HAHA “dealing Clack.”] So I gave her the number to the silver Motorola. And again, she says, "What's this?" I said, "Well, that's my phone number. In case you ever want to talk." She says, "This isn't a phone number." I say, "Yes, it is. Not many people have it, but it's definitely one of my phone numbers." And then she counts the digits and says, "But this is ten numbers. Shouldn't it be (pause) seven? I think it's seven. It's not that often that my mommie lets me run down to the neighbor's house to call my grammie." Then she walked away without taking it. I just don't get her! It's a good thing I'm so stubborn. A lesser man would have given up by now.

HAHA! What number are we at in your to-do list?

9. Make a gift for Carrie. Again, you're going to have to use my stitchwitchery. I notice that Carrie likes to wear tops with sparkly straps that showcase her, um, shoulders. So I thought you could take some of the fabric from the gossamer curtains from my Joyful Noise Tour and some other fabric from one of my old sparkly vests (SHUT. UP.) and put together a nice top for her to wear. Maybe you should get Quiana to help you because if Carrie doesn't recognize this gift, I'm going to blame you. But I won't give up on my courtship.

10. While you're at the CBS studios, send a Clay Aiken concert t-shirt and thong to that Constantinople guy. It seems a few of my fans have noticed how he fills out his jeans with his long, um, legs. His legs might be as long as mine, but there is no way he smells as fresh! And did you see him wearing a Justin G. shirt last week? Just what was he trying to say? Does he want to wear the shirt of the man who tends the garden or the man who owns the garden? [Don't say that though. I've just grossed myself out with the innuendo. Darn those Broads and their garden imagery]. Plus, if he's wearing my face on a shirt, no one will look below his waist! [Ooops. Grossed myself out again HAHA] And if a man is going to wear red underwear and flash them on national tv, it might as well be a red Clay Aiken thong so I can get rich at the same time HAHA!

11. Check out that Anwar guy for me, just make sure you're wearing the Furberry Fuc...(oops HAHA) Fat so he doesn't see you. Simon says (HAHA!) he's a teacher and a nice guy. Maybe we could record a duet together someday. Even though teachers aren't sexy, their voices should be heard, and they should be applauded. See, where recording with Ruben would only strengthen my ties to American Idol, recording with Anwar would strengthen my ties to the teaching profession. And we could call it an Aiken-Robinson production. I'm sure glad his last name isn't Johnson. That would be smutty HAHA! Oh man, I can't wait to get back and spend time with my Broads again. I guess naptime has made me horny HAHA!

P.S. Did I ever tell you that I finally got the secret of casting negative votes out of Simon? Well, I did! So now we can use that to cast negative votes against that Constantinople and his long legs. I won't tell you what the secret is until I get back, because I'm sure as it is, some Broad has already found this letter and is reading it right now. I will tell you how I finally got the secret from Simon coss I'm pretty proud of mahself.

I know I told you that I finally figured out that Simon started making nasty, unfounded comments about me after we stood next to each other in the men's room, right? Especially after BeeGees night. I know Simon enjoyed my performance in the rehearsal almost as much as Paula did, but then afterwards, I absolutely had to use the restroom, and Simon was already there. Lord, old men take forever. I couldn't wait, and Josh was in the only closed stall as usual so I was cursing him for that and also for telling me to go commando under those jeans in the first place. It was impossible to be discreet with all the tension that had built up in those jeans. And then it was even worse trying to pack everything back in. And that Simon doesn't even pretend to follow the unwritten rule of the mens room. So of course, he got back at me the only way he could and called my performance horrid and then wrote "Vincent" on a hundred slips of paper for the next week.

But we all know how things have changed since then. So last week, I made sure to go into the bathroom when Simon was there, and I sidled up to the next urinal, whipped it out (HAHA I hope a Broad is reading this), and said very matter-of-factly, "I hear Terri is a Claymate." HAHA! I could totally tell he was trying to finish but he couldn't! He just stood there with his face all red, so I continued, "I guess she must be getting a little squirrely since I haven't been making too many public appearances." And I could totally tell by his reaction that she was probably making him even more miserable than he would be on his own!

So then I said, "If I go up and give her one of my looks - NO! Don't even try to imitate it, you look ridiculous - will you give me the secret of casting negative votes?"

He says, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Have you gotten into Paula's medication?"

And I say, "You know exactly what I'm talking about. And you know how Terri reacted when I came to the set last year and gave her one of my patented, er, patent-pending looks after I sang Fantasy. I filled that woman with a burning desire which I then refused to satisfy. So she was forced to come to you. And instead of thanking me, you tried to make fun of me."

Anyway, it's all worked out, I'm back on top, and Simon's actually saying nice things about me again in his own small man way. And my little story HAHA! did remind me of one more item to add to your list:

12. Come up with an alternate term for EF so that I can get my look trademarked and patented. Then see if I can still get rich with other people’s bad imitations of it HAHA!

P.P.S. I'm gonna miss you Nick. Don't tell anybody. And let Raleigh do whatever she wants while I'm away. And be sure to check in on Brett and my mom for me. I am not crying.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part Two – The Rebuttal

by Karen Eh

Pam handed the papers back to Nick with a sigh. It was obvious he was going to be a very busy boy this weekend and she decided to leave him alone. If Clay hadn’t warned him about even talking to the Broads, she would have called a few up and asked them to come over and give him a hand with his list. But maybe Clay was right, Nick might end up in over his head and then there’d be hell to pay….not only Nick, but a few Broads could end up in trouble, too. Pam sighed again. Maybe next time she stopped by, she and Nick could engage in a little game of one on one. And she’d take precautions to make sure nobody got in trouble when they did.

Nick, sadly, watched her go. He looked at the sheaf of papers in his hand and decided he really had no choice but to get to work. His chores kept him so busy that the days flew by quickly and he didn’t have time to dwell on being left behind and his feelings of being left out. By late Tuesday night he had almost accomplished everything on his list and he decided to take a break. Flopping down on the leather sofa in the great room, he eyed a stack of new magazines on the coffee table. He slipped the plain, brown wrapper off of the most recent In Touch Weekly and began to idly flip through its pages….

“Demi & Ashton …Ready for a Baby”…how do these young guys land these older women, anyway? Someday, I’m gonna get as lucky as Ashton Kutcher…..heck, maybe even luckier. Maybe one of the Broads will go out with me. “Wow! Fran Dresher hasn’t aged”…nope, I saw her at the American Idol taping tonight. Who knew she could sing? Oh, yeah right….she can’t. And darn, that reminds me I have to find some ribbons to sew on that other Fran’s shirt.

Flipping through more pages…“Clay Aiken and his pal vacation in Hawaii.” Nick felt the sting of tears in his eyes and he stifled a sob. “It sure is lonesome around here, isn’t it Raleigh girl?” The little brown dog looked up from her Burberry raw hide chew and whimpered in sympathy. When Nick patted the seat of the couch, she hopped up and settled herself beside him. He leaned back into the sofa, breathed a heavy sigh and tried really hard not to be UP.SET. but it didn’t work.

“Okay, I’d better go find those ribbons. Come on Raleigh, I think he said they were in the linen closet next to the third guest bathroom.” In the bottom of the closet Nick discovered a box marked STITCH WITCHERY KITS; beneath it was an old electric typewriter. “By God, I haven’t seen this since we were in junior high. I wonder how he ever managed to cart this thing around before he got that MAC. Oh, yeah I used to tote it around for him. I wasn’t a two-strapper until I had to lug this around all day. You know what Raleigh? I think it’s time I made a list of my own.” Nick carried the old IBM to the kitchen table and began to peck away at his hurt and anger...

Dear “Mr. Rourke,”

I just want to fill you in on what’s been happening here in your absence. Thanks for leaving me such a detailed list and filling me in on the Carrie Okie situation. She sure is a delightful girl, isn’t she? But you already know that. I’ll fill you in on what you don’t know about her later but I really need to cover some of these other details first.

1. The doctor’s office called and left you a message. Apparently there was some confusion about your appointment and they may have given you the wrong shots. The receptionist thought you said, “kahnda itchy”…..so I think you got the Benadryl series by mistake. I guess you had no trouble sleeping on the plane on the way over, huh?

2. I spent all day Saturday cleaning up your own personal disaster area in the backyard. Please stop feeding that dog Hot Pockets! Guarini was by on Sunday to do the yard work, as expected, and he did find the two little presents I left at your request. He wants you to know you’re slipping.

3. The new kitten loves her milk from glass bottles, too. And one Broad stopped by the first day you were gone but she didn’t stick around once she found out you had already left. She also seemed REALLY surprised to find me home alone. It’s been doubly quiet here with you gone and no Broads lurking around the porch all day. Did you finally manage to convince them that Kenny is a fictional character and not a real person? She must have gone back and told the rest of the Broads that I’m not allowed to talk to them. I might call her up later and tell her that if they want to come over and play a little bit of shirtless basketball, I’ll promise not to say a word (while they’re here or later…HAHA!).

4. Oh yeah, that’s the other thing. About the trademark…..I went downtown to the guv’ment office and said I’d like to apply for a trademark, HAHA! That woman looked at me all kinds of funny, and not the HAHA! kind of funny, either. She passed me a form to fill out which I did. I put HAHA! on the line where it asked for the phrase I wanted to trademark and the next thing you know I am talking to a supervisor and still getting nowhere. I’ve never seen so many people get so serious over not taking something seriously, ever. Bureaucrats, HAHA! (Because it’s still free.)

*Oops…Hold on a sec…I think I hear someone at the door. I’ll be right back……

I’m back …I thought it might be those Broads again but it was someone delivering a white suit. What do you need another white suit for? Oh, wait…YOU…don’t need a white suit but your “Tattoo” does, doesn’t he? We are seriously going to have to talk about this when you get home! But, in the meantime, back to business…..

5. I voted for Carrie, till her cows came home. She sure is a sweet girl, but you already know that, right? There are a few things you don’t know about her but as I said, I’m saving that for later. Be patient. HAHA!

6. I made Carrie a present but I’m afraid you forgot something. I’m neither Maria von Trapp nor Scarlet O’Hara and I have no idea how to fashion something wearable out of curtains. I’ll fill you in on what I gave Carrie later, okay? HAHA!

7. I did as you told me and borrowed your Furberry Fat disguise and went down to CBS studios for the AI taping tonight. The guard at the security gate wasn’t going to let me in until I forgot that I had the fuc…..oops! hat in my pocket. As soon as I whipped it out and put it on my head he said, “Oh, it’s you Mr. Aiken…come on in.” There were lots of people lined up waiting to get seats in the studio audience. It looked like they were having lots of fun making new friends and renewing old acquaintances. I’m not sure if you should be concerned about this or not, but I overheard quite a few of the women humming To Sir with Love.…recording a duet with Anwar might not be a bad idea. Oh, and I had to whip that darn fuc….oops! hat disguise right off my head as I passed the line up to avoid being mobbed. So I guess that means they still like you best, but you’d better not stay away too long or To Sir with Love may turn into Hot for Teacher. HAHA!

8. Anwar does seem like a nice guy, but I think that Constantinople likes our…um your Carrie a bit too much. He’s been bringing her presents every week, too, but I don’t think she understands his gifts, either. This week he gave her a copy of one of his CDs. She reads it...Pray for the Soul of Betty... and immediately drops to her knees. Do you think Measure of a Man might have been a little bit too obtuse? He thanked me profusely for the concert t-shirt and informed me that he had received a purple one that said, “It’s All Clay Aiken’s Fault” on the back. I’m afraid I might have to summon the Broads to a full dress uniform summit to find out who did this. Oh, and another thing you might find interesting…..I think that Connie is wearing shoes in a bigger size than his feet, you know, just to give the impression of ….well, you know…HAHA! As the Con-man and I were talking in the hallway, the wardrobe girl came up and said, “Here are the four socks you asked for, sweetie.” Who does he think is going to fall for that trick?

9. Ah, Carrie…what can I say? I suppose I could say you talk in your sleep and you spilled your guts all over the Pacific. HAHA! You babbled sign ideas all the way back from Hawaii:

Carrie-Lina in My Mind!

Mary from Cary Who?

This is a Carrie-Okie Contest!

Marry Me Carrie!

Carrie is Clayton’s Niagra!

Some of them didn’t make any sense but you were sleeping so I cut you some slack. Anyway, like I said before, I wasn’t up for sewing a new top for Carrie to wear on the show but I did bring her something……. a pair of my Nickers. She knew right off what they were, too. As soon as she saw them she hiked up her skirt and slipped them on over her milky thighs. (Oops! Sorry……I know you don’t like me reading that fan fic stuff.) But, to be honest, she does have milky thighs….or was that milk maid thighs? She told me, but I was a little discombobulated at the time and I forget. Do you think Carrie is a little discombobulated? That Constantindimple guy came sidling up the hallway while Carrie and I were chatting.

Carrie: He sure has big feet.

Me: Oh, I’m not so sure about that. *wink*

Carrie: I’ve never seen feet that big before.

Me: Well, his shoes are big. Maybe they’re bigger that his feet.*wink*

Carrie: But then he’d need to wear extra socks to fill them out.

Me: *Wink Wink*

Carrie: Is there something in your eye?

Me: No, it’s fine.

Carrie: You sure?

Me: Yes, I’m sure, thanks.

Carrie: What did he mean when he said, “Thanks for the thong. I’ll wear it tonight?”

Anyway, I hate to tell you this but I’m a little smitten with our…um…your girl and I think she might have taken a bit of a shine to me, too. I decided to watch the taping from a seat in the audience. Dang it! That fuc….oops! hat of yours sure is a ticket to anywhere…..a regular Invisibility Cloak. I made a quick sign, “CARRIE MAKES ME MOO.” And she got it…there was no mistaking that flicker of emotion I saw cross her face. We might be kindred spirits or something like that. Time will tell, boss, which one of us gets to drive the bull to market. HAHA!

I guess that is all I have to tell you. I just wanted to make sure I have everything written down in case you get real mad at me when you get back and my services are no longer required. HAHA! Oh, the subscriptions for In Touch, US and Entertainment Weekly were renewed last month. The ones for the Star, the Globe, and the Enquirer are due in May. I’ve put all of your clippings in the archival albums and, no, nothing about you has turned up in the Enquirer, yet. However, I did give them the heads-up about the “Secret of Casting Negative Votes” on AI. They were very interested and want to talk to you when you get back. Boy, were they excited when I told them how you managed to ferret the information from Simon. Before that, I think they were skeptical about the source of the story and you might not have gotten any coverage for it. Thank me later. HAHA!

Welcome Home,

Nick

P.S. I almost forgot….you know, if you really want a Tattoo, LBFCA inside a heart on your chest might be nice.

P.P.S. No, I haven’t talked to any Broads.

Nick finished typing, yawned and stretched his arms over his head. He badly needed to work out some kinks and decided shooting a few hoops in the driveway would be just the thing. He zipped the typewriter back in its case and placed his letter to Clay on the kitchen counter. It was there that he spied Clay’s Little Black Book...

“Hello, Pam? This is Nick. All my shirts are in the wash and there’s no sign, yet, of de plane!”

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~Posted 3.15.2005~

Please forward your comments to the authors. Pam – pamboivin@yahoo.ca Karen – kareneh2@yahoo.com

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