Anyway.  This is kind of a sequel, only with totally different characters and situations.
The bad guys are the same, of course; Evil Execs who ruin my favourite TV shows don't
change much, whatever positions they hold and whatever gender they are.

Confused?  Here's what you need to know: I wrote a badfic a couple years ago when the
Canadian network airing Early Edition jerked me around one too many times.  In this fic,
I allied myself with EE's lead character in a massive revenge scheme against the Evil
Execs of that network.  The scheme involved me kidnapping the Evil Execs, tying them
up, and torturing them in my own special Pure Evil way until they saw the Error Of Their
Ways.  (That's the overview; for specifics, check out 'Best Served Cold' on the Early
Edition Page.)  It was quite a cathartic piece of fic, and I make no apologies for it.

Or for this one, which has indeed made me feel a bit better about the current
disgustingness of GH.  Not much, but a *bit*.  And if I haven't frightened you off yet, you
might just like it, too...

BEST SERVED COLD II: LEITCH ATTACK!!!!! by Jayne Leitch
Copyright 2001

Exhausted, Sonny Corinthos pulled back the sheets of the huge, too-soft hotel bed and
slid his aching body under them.  His head hit the pillow with a *whumpf*, then
promptly sunk into the cushion's worn depression.

Worn depression.  Sonny sighed.  It was him all over.

Reaching out, he flicked off the bedside lamp and lay in the dark, staring up at the
ceiling, too tired even to close his eyes.  He didn't know what was wrong; the past couple
of months had been so stressed, he'd had a rough time recovering from being betrayed,
stabbed, blown up, lied to, nagged...but that was just it.  He didn't feel like he *was*
recovering.  He didn't feel like he was doing *anything*, really, and it bothered him.

Sonny knew that he was a man who took action when things went wrong, but lately it
seemed that all he did was take the *wrong* actions.  So much had happened--was still
happening--and he could remember reacting to it all, but in ways that, now that he
thought about them, didn't make much sense.

He hadn't been feeling like himself.  He still wasn't.  As Sonny stared bleakly up at the
ceiling, he realized that he felt like someone he didn't recognize.  Someone who
just...wasn't him...

Exhaustion caught him off-guard, and Sonny fell asleep in mid-thought.

* * * * *

The penthouse.  What had happened to his penthouse?

Sonny stood in the doorway and stared, aghast, at the sight before him.  His home, so
recently gutted by the bomb blast, was completely whole--and despite the fact that all of
his old furniture was where it had always been, the walls were now a uniform beige.  The
stairs still arched up into the second floor the same way they always had, which was
strange because Sonny remembered telling the remodellers to change the slope and
angle...

...Carly was halfway up them, wearing that green blouse she'd been wearing the night
they'd...

...Carly was collapsed in the middle of the floor, wearing her wedding dress and sobbing
noisily...

...Why did Carly look like two entirely different people?

Sonny didn't have time to think about that.  His attention was suddenly diverted by the
sight of Jason running out of the kitchen with Brenda clinging to him piggy-back style
and crying, "Run faster, for God's sake!"  They dashed across the room until they were
about to hit the wall in front of the drinks table--

--But the wall wasn't there.  Laughing and screeching, Jason and Brenda plowed straight
into the smoky barrier that was in its place, and disappeared.

There was more.  When Sonny turned his eyes back to the Carlies, he saw that Elizabeth
had somehow appeared between them at the bottom of the stairs, and was now looking at
him with a very puzzled expression on her tear-stained face.  More than that, Lucky was
now standing behind her, a step higher than Carly-on-the-stairs...

...But the guy now crouched down with his hand on Carly-in-the-wedding-dress's
shoulder was Lucky too.  Or, Sonny found himself thinking, Lucky...Two?

"HEY!"

Sonny jumped as Luke bellowed from where he was lying on the couch, an ice pack
clamped to his shoulder.  "WOULD SOMEBODY TURN DOWN THAT DAMN
MUSIC?!??!!"

"Sorry man," Roy replied from his position across the room at the table, "but I couldn't
even if I wanted to!"  And Sonny saw that he was chained to the table leg, which was a
shame because the music really *was* getting on Sonny's nerves, and he wanted
*somebody* to turn it down...or off...

"Going somewhere?"

Alexis moved from where she had been standing behind him, and Sonny furrowed his
brow in confusion at the look she aimed at him.  "You look all packed," she explained
after a moment, gesturing downwards.  Sonny glanced down and saw that, indeed, a
suitcase fairly bulged at his feet.

"Ah, whatever.  Do I look like I'm going to stop you?"  Pulling at the chunky necklace
that seemed to be tightening around her neck, Alexis brushed past him and strode across
the room to the fireplace, where Kevin Collins and Jax were deep in conversation with
Zander and an angry-looking Stefan Cassadine.

"Oh, don't worry, buddy."

The new voice came from beside him; Sonny turned abruptly to see a dark-haired man in
jeans and a leather bomber jacket sitting at the desk.  As the man folded up his
newspaper he smiled grimly and continued, "You're gonna like what happens next.  Trust
me."  His voice carried the hint of a drawl.  Even though Sonny knew he'd never met the
man before, he also knew he recognized him...

...Somehow...

The elevator dinged, and the music screeched into silence.  The man at the desk full-out
grinned.  "Here she comes!"

The reaction was instantaneous.  Luke whooped, then winced and pressed his ice pack to
his forehead.  Jax looked startled, then turned and tried to jog into the grey smoke that
Jason and Brenda had disappeared through, only to find it as solid as the wall would have
been.  Kevin smiled and joined Zander, Stefan and Alexis in an enthusiastic round of
applause.  Elizabeth's puzzled expression was replaced by a grin of joy, the Carlies and
Luckies began to cheer, and over at the table--

--The table was suddenly packed.  People were tied to the chairs, tethered to the table
legs--one person, a dark-haired woman Sonny thought he recognized but couldn't place,
was trussed on top of the table like a Thanksgiving turkey.  Roy was joined by that nurse,
Melissa Bedford, Angel, Sorel, and the latest illegitimate Quartermaine, Skye.  But there
were so many others--mostly women--who Sonny didn't recognize at all.

Suddenly, Sonny felt strong hands plant themselves against his shoulders and *push*.  He
stumbled over the suitcase and into the penthouse, then turned in time to see Johnny and
one of Helena Cassadine's boytoys giving the room a thorough once-over with narrowed
eyes.  Their attention lingered on the crowded table, but they were apparently satisfied
with what they saw; a moment later they stepped forward and apart...

...Revealing a young woman standing in the doorway.  She wore blue jeans and a red tank
top.  Her eyes gleamed maniacally behind the lenses of her glasses, and her dark blonde
hair fell in strange helices past her shoulders.  She held something in her right hand; after
maintaining her entrance pose for a suitably dramatic length of time, she swung her
burden up to shoulder level, revealing it to be a complicated contraption consisting of a
coil of rough-looking rope, a number of switches and pulleys, and two lethal-looking
snapping blades.  The trademark on the side proclaimed it to be the Nifty Bundler 3000.

The man at the desk whistled, low and clear in the sudden silence that permeated the
room.

In the doorway, Jayne's face split into an evil grin.  "I'm ba-ack!"

* * * * *

Sonny awoke with a start, his eyes flying open and fixing on the blackness above.

Bits of his dream echoed through his mind, some as clear and vibrant as if he'd watched it
all happen in real life, others foggy and becoming progressively harder to recall: Skye
Chandler Quartermaine tied to his table, two Luckies, a strange man who Sonny
nevertheless recognized, a girl with curly hair and a demented grin, someone
named...Erin?  Karen?...begging for mercy while the girl did something with a...Nifty
Bundler, whatever that was.  There had been another woman beside her--Peg-Anne, or
something--also sobbing in terror because...because that girl, the one with the Bundler
thing, wasn't letting her change out of the grungy white clothes she was wearing.  And he
was sure someone had mentioned plastic jewellery at one point, and...green things?  And
there had been music, really loud music...

Sonny sighed.  He also had a perfect mental picture of the curly-haired girl sitting in his
lap while they laughed at...something.  He didn't know what it was, but he knew it had
been evil...and richly deserved...

Deciding he needed a glass of water, the mobster reached out and turned on the light,
then sat up and swung his legs out of bed.  He was halfway to the bathroom when he saw
it.

His suitcase was standing by the door.  He hadn't put it there.

Sonny paused for a long, thoughtful moment.  Then, moving methodically, he went back
across the room, picked up the suitcase--which was heavier than it should've been
empty--and carried it to his bed.

He knew he shouldn't touch it.  He knew that there was a very real possibility of being
blown up the second he unzipped it.  Nevertheless, he took the zipper between his thumb
and forefinger, and pulled.

Nothing happened.  Sonny held his breath and opened the case.

After a long moment Sonny realized that he hadn't started breathing again, and sucked in
a lungful of air.  He then reached into the suitcase, pulled out the item it held, and stared
at it.

There was a sticky note stuck to the side.  It read, "For all those times you want to have
someone's undivided attention.  Love, Jayne."

Sonny read the note a few more times, and felt his mouth curve into a very evil grin.

Dimples flashing, he hefted his brand new Nifty Bundler and laughed.

End.  ;)

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