Fin: The conclusion of Debbie, Sally, Brad, Julia, Dr. Phil, Salt n Peppper Beard, Brenda, Sylvia and all the rest.

Whose bright idea was this anyway?

THE BEGINNING: When Debbie decided that Salt ‘n’ Pepper Beard was the most attractive pirate on the ship, she realized that choosing him was due to the advice of Sylvia, her new Life Coach, to be realistic about her own age and to open herself up to romance where it lay, unlike the troublesome past where she would have wished that only the younger pirates take advantage of her.

MEGAN: But what the hell did Sylvia know, she thought, since the woman was obviously wacked out and referred to men in a bar as pirates on a ship? Troublesome past be damned, Debbie's drinks were telling her, go for the hot goodness of the younger men! As she left to investigate the scene out on the back patio, Debbie grabbed the arm of her closest friend and partner in Cougar crime, Sally, and the two sauntered outside to the beat of the music that was playing loudly. Once there, the Cougaristas quickly pounced on an open table by the large dance floor, ordered more drinks and began to survey their hot bodied options. Debbie and Sally both agreed that observing them on the dance floor was a good indicator of who would best suit their needs.

ASHLEY: There was the guy - that guy that you can spot a mile away - who's fabulous in every way and knows it. Even his beer is designer. And then there was his sidekick - the slightly disproportionate best friend whose herky-jerky dance moves told them everything they needed to know. Simultaneously they called the first guy. And seeing as how they both couldn't have him, Debbie and Sally did what any respectable women in their situation would do: ordered a vodka shot and played rock-scissors-paper for him.

TEMPE: "Best two out of three?" Sally asked Debbie, after her rock was crushed by Debbie's scissors. She could not lose Brad to this hussy over a game of rochambeau. She just couldn't. "Sure, why not?" Debbie replied, pouring another shot for her opponent, fully expecting to to win back her ex-husband, no matter how she had to do it. After all, she lost this one love of her life - now her ex-husband - in an arm-wrestling match to their old friend Brenda a few years back; rock-scissors-paper was child's play compared to that day.

ANDI: So, she holds out her hands and taps out the familiar rhythm, landing with her two fingers extended. Ha! What a fool opponent, choosing weak paper. There is nothing like the triumphant feeling when betting correctly and winning; her heart sores. Then, just as quickly, it sinks again, realizing what she's truly "won." Now, she must be the one to step in and confront Julia; trying to convince her to face her demons (something she herself has been avoiding for years) was going to take one hell of an intervention.

PEN: She began plans for the intervention by googling terms pertinent to their specific situation:
“intervention”
“intervention protocol”
“how to stage an intervention”
“candy addictions”
“addicted to M&Ms”
“couch potato”
“reality TV fanaticism”
“prying individual from TV with crowbar”
“SWAT team backup”
“hiring private SWAT team”
“couch potato rehabilitation programs” with Advanced Search Option: “forced admission.”
And then it occurred to her that, considering the nature of Julia’s “problems,” the only thing that might get through to the girl was TV itself. She googled one last phrase:
“be guest on Dr. Phil show.”

Scoring a spot on the hardball-playing TV counselor’s show was the answer to their problems, she was sure of it. If necessary, she would hunt down a Hollywood phone book and call up the loudmouthed old baldy himself to make it happen: it was time for Julia to Get Real.

THE END OF THE AFFAIR (My contribution):
Before she could formulate a plan, her cell phone rang. For a brief moment she thought, "who's calling me NOW?" before her stomach sank as she realized what she had done. With all this nonsense about Julia, she had completely forgotten about The Syndicate. They would call until she answered, and if she did not, then innocent lives would fall as collateral damage; she had no choice.

She flipped open her phone. . .a bright flash, a silent scream, and she vanished forever.