View Full Version : Once Upon a Time....

cappy happy
May 1st, 2002, 02:19 PM
Just kickin back in Jen’s Den, ice cold beer in one hand, typing with the other, still glowing from my newly elevated status from “junior member”…

In honor of the battle weary still valiantly waging war with the vapid and the vile over on GM, I thought you might like a thread like yesterday’s poetry and songwriting – another one to stretch the creative legs a little. So pull up a chair, grab a cold one (for you Europeans, I put your beer in the oven ;) ) – here’s the rules:

The idea is to tell the story of Jen’s life – with a lot of silliness and bizarre thrown in between – the more twisted the better but try to somehow get it back to the common thread of Jen’s life. Write as much or as little as you like but always end your post with a mid-sentence “cliffhanger” (I think you’ll see what I mean from my lead-off post below. And please feel free to post often. This could be fun or dumb but we’ll never know unless we give it a try, right? Here goes:

Once upon a time there was a man named Stefano. Stefano, being a temperamental, hot-blooded Italian stud, attempted to achieve fame and glory via a variety of differing sports. Unfortunately, despite all his efforts, he was just a mildly, but not wildly, successful athlete. This proved to be a great source of frustration for him. Then one day he met a young lady who, he quickly deduced, had fine, sturdy bone structure and nice, strong teeth, causing him to swiftly proclaim, “THIS is the one!”

A marriage and 9 months later a child was born. “Damn”, he said, as he swaddled the child in a Fila blanket, “you’re not a boy! Oh well, I’ll just…….<<this is where the next person should pick up>>>

May 1st, 2002, 05:26 PM
...Teach that thing what i know, some good years later, & some junior tournaments, little Jenny (or "Eggplant" as daddy called her) was thirteen, & b4 he knew it, she had more money then him (well... em... i think..), he got upset & wanted to teach her a lesson about beeing a grown up, so he sent her to a real tennis tourny, for his surprise, she kicked buts, he was so upset he...

(this is a crapy one, but oh well....)

May 1st, 2002, 05:45 PM
... got a $3 million deal with Diadora. Why? Because they'll dress jennifer up as a clown and embarrass her when she is older and can look back and think "what a chump i am". Adidas' and Nikes clothes were too "normal" for the flamboyant Stefano.

Then he decided that Jen needed a Rolex watch, this way she can time the time she takes between serves with the teeny-weeny watch within a watch with times the milli-seconds (only happens on expensive watches, folks). Easily distracted by shiny objects, Stefano (or Steffie as he preffered to be know) ...

May 1st, 2002, 06:50 PM
decided that little Miss Jen should win every tournament she entered, therefore receiving many shiny objet d'art, along with bag loads of CA$H. Stefano started putting much pressure on the beloved Jen to win, win, win. He forced her to tour the globe playing meaningle$$ exhibitions as he fattened not only the House of Capriati bank account, but his ever expanding middle section as well. Needless to say, Stefano had lived in America for over 20 years, but he never learned to speak English so he felt that screaming would make every one understand him. Meanwhile little Jennifer was charming the world with her smile, personality and killer strokes. She even...

May 1st, 2002, 08:00 PM
the Media pressure become so imense on the little teenager, who was already a superstar all over the world, especially in the USA, so her parents should have been more carefully with each step she will make and should have helped her more instead of pushing her to the limit! :mad:

May 1st, 2002, 09:59 PM
Nevertheless, she even signed an endorsement deal with Oil of Olay even though she was a mere 14 years old. Rejected endorsement offers included Miss Clairol grey concealing hair-dye and Depends adult diapers. It seemed all of corporate America wanted a piece of young Jenny, who just wanted to be a normal little girl. Jenny was unhappy and confused. She wanted to rebel but Stefano would have none of it, besides which she didn't really know how to yet.

Fast-forward a couple of years. Now truly fed-up of being a teenage cash-cow/media-ho, and suddenly able to bench-press 120 lbs., Jenny told papa Stefano and company to shove it and decided to....

May 1st, 2002, 10:39 PM
...stop playing the game called tennis and started a new game called, 'Let's Get Arrested!'. Jennifer was rather successful at this, clocking up two arrests and many headlines. At this stage, her endorsements were cancelled and she had to find new ways of making money to pay for her frequent hair colouring episodes. She became adept at origami, often being the star attraction at kids' birthday parties and also started busking around the footpaths of Bristol. During this time, Stefano and Jennifer's Mother, who for years never had a name, stayed very quiet, which was rather unusual for Stefano.

Whilst the rest of the tennis world continued, Jennifer returned to school to, you know, complete her, you know, studies-type thing, you know? However, little, innocent, American sweetheart Jennifer, who was no longer little or innocent decided to return to tennis, because...

I like this thread!

May 2nd, 2002, 12:23 AM
.....she got damn tired of of being the poster child for TTGB(tennis teens gone bad), not to mention her origami patterns were kind of "you know", drippy. Bart Simpson patterns and her fav goth bands just didn't transfer well onto delicate paper. And lets be real. Delicate is not the first thing that comes to mind.....

May 2nd, 2002, 08:03 AM
.....you know....;) :wavey:

cappy happy
May 2nd, 2002, 01:44 PM
….realizing that origami birthday parties were a dying breed, having reached their zenith in the late 80s but succumbing to the pressures of rent-able moon-bounces and balloon art, she decided this line of work may not be able to keep her in the lifestyle she’d become accustomed - including her expensive demand for hair coloring, heavy make up and black capes. So, pacing the floor in her roach-infested apartment in Boca Raton, stepping over the beer bottles and nameless drunks and hangers on sleeping on her floors, she thought, “You know, shoplifting clearly isn't my thing, you know, maybe I should.....ugh... try tennis again?” So, reluctantly, she called Steffie to ask what would it take to mount a comeback?

Steffie, who in the meantime had grown an even larger beer belly with his inactivity and lack of purpose in life, had, however, managed to learn a few new choice words in English and behavior tips while filling his days with “Jerry Springer”. When he picked up the phone and heard the small, frail voice on the other end, he sucked in his gut, straightend his back and after listening intently to her new plan, promptly ordered her to pack her capes and move back north NOW – “Do not even say good-bye to those good for nothing friends of yours!!” Slamming the phone down, he looked at Denise, smoothed back his oily Italian mane and shouted, “Momma! We’re back in business!!” And he quickly began preparing for the comeback by……

May 2nd, 2002, 04:07 PM
... following the Mr. Lucic, Mr. Graf, and Mr. Pierce technique of doing absolute bugger all. Hey, it was a tried and tested technique. Anyhoo, Jens hair now purple and orange, proved to be an all too effective camoflage against Steffie's Diadora tracksuit. So he wasn't aware of her arrival for 3 weeks when Jen used her origami techniques to create a high tech communications system to receive his attention, or a letter accompanied by an envelope.

Dear Daddy ....

May 2nd, 2002, 05:32 PM
...I rebelled exactly the same like Jenny, and 1994 was the shittiest for me too. :cool: ;)

May 2nd, 2002, 07:00 PM
What the hell were you thinking? Well, whatever. I’m back now, but I wanna, you know, set a few, like, ground rules.

First of all, no more fluorescent colours. That’s so, like, 1991. Even Agassi’s over it. From now on I wanna be dressed from the liquidation reject rack at Charlie’s Sporting Goods and Apparel Store.

Second, quit running me ragged. I’m still insecure, self-conscious, and self-loathing. I don’t need the added crap.

Third, let mom out of the damn attic already.

So that’s it. Those are the rules. Don’t mess with ‘em, okay? The origami thing may be a bust, but I hear decoupage is gonna be real big this season. The cops gave me back my Rol-a-dex, so the next kiddie birthday party is just a quick phone call away. And don’t think I won’t go there, cuz I will.

Holler back and let me know what you think.



May 2nd, 2002, 08:33 PM
Ok, this is so hilarious!

Snuffkin: I can't stop laughing!!

May 2nd, 2002, 08:39 PM
LMAO kazzmazz. What a great post. I wonder if she did write it?!1!:rolleyes:

May 2nd, 2002, 10:08 PM
...and so, Steffie agreed to the terms laid down by Jennifer and the great comeback had begun. The first thing they did was buy a new tennis racquet. As she wished to get out of the fluoresecent stage, Jennifer insisted on a raquet without a pink grip (go check old pictures!). So, they trotted off to their local tennis shop and asked the nice young man for some advice. His advice? Go and learn eloquent English. After they both told him to f**k off, they ordered a new racquet from the Wimbledon souvenir store.

Jennifer found that practice was difficult to get into the swing of after much time out. In the non-work moments, she and Steffie would compare the size of their guts...Steffie always won, the only thing he's ever been good at! And so, Jennifer started to play tournaments, but the kids' party season was back in full swing and she always left tourneys early so she could do the party thing. Many thought she wasn't winning matches because she wasn't good enough, but the money from kids' parties was just too good to refuse. Anyway, eventually, Jennifer decided that the world should see her new racquet more and so she gave up the parties, personally and professionally, and tried to win a match or two. However, the results weren't always good and her enthusiasm waned, but she decided to hang on in there and try and be the best she could because she really, really, really, wanted to...

cappy happy
May 2nd, 2002, 11:23 PM
….someday again have the opportunity to play with her idol, Billie Jean King. But that day would have to wait. It was proving more and more difficult to resist the pull of origami. She secretly knew her game was suffering by her inability to push it out of her mind and completely focus. She couldn’t keep thinking about it – always there in the back of her mind – while eating, while talking, while watching while “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, even while playing tennis. Each time she tossed the ball to serve, she saw a beautiful paper swan. Preparing for a cross-court backhand, there was delicate tulip. Soon Steffie figured it out and cornered her after a particularly painful first round loss in Philadelphia. “My little Eggplant,” he said nervously as he twisted his shiny ‘Italian Stallion’ gold bracelet, “I think you have a problem. I think we need to take you to rehab.” Tearfully, she agreed and….

May 2nd, 2002, 11:32 PM
also agreed to give up swing dancing...

cappy happy
May 2nd, 2002, 11:36 PM
Snuffkin - OMG - LOL!! I'm crying....

May 3rd, 2002, 09:13 AM
lol, my adds are no good, take it from the swing dancing!

May 3rd, 2002, 09:38 AM
also agreed to give up swing dancing...

on the condition that Steffie would take time out in training sessions to randomly throw her over his shoulder, the buzz she got from being swung by her waist around peoples heads was nearly as great as the ones she recieved from crisply folding a fresh piece of A4 paper, white of course.

Rehab wasn't exactly how Steffie expected it to be. Separated from Jen for 28 days he relasped into wearing florescent socks. Luckily Jen was faring much better, being weaned from paper to corregated cardboard, she found that this new kind of paper didn't fold as easily and her swans more closely resembed Nathalie Tauziat's face. The joy she received from delicately bent, non-adhesified cartridge paper was increasingly reduced to the point that, well, she couldn't be arsed to do it anymore, dammit.

So, folding her sheets into a moped (just one more time, she promised herself), she escaped from rehab and found herself...

cappy happy
May 3rd, 2002, 03:05 PM
A MOPED!! OMG I'm crying again!! STOP!!!

(I'm tempted to add on but I don't want to be too greedy and write too much. C'mon - we need more posters - the more the better!!!!)

May 3rd, 2002, 05:09 PM
...what she thought was her soulmate. Putting the finishing touches on her moped while sitting in the players lounge of an obscure Tier III tournament, Jenny's eyes instinctively raised to meet those of a dashing young Belgian quietly sitting in a corner next to the vending machines. The young man seemed to share Jen's fondness for origami, though his paper of choice consisted mainly of bags of chips, chocolate bar wrappers, and other papers of the junk-food enclosing variety. Jen's heart began to race as she observed him adroitly fondle his bag of Ring-o-los. "This must be fate" she thought...

May 3rd, 2002, 09:16 PM
... until she realised that her moped had run out of oil. "Fuck" she cussed at it and pulling out her iron, "that'll learn you" she cried at her moped as the creases soon became smooth and the moped was quickly being reduced to it's former King-size form. Her blonde knight raced over to her and stopped her before the speed dial became no more, "don't worry" he hollered "just squeeze my hair, there's enough oil in there to murder a colony of penguins."

Jen was saved, and after a bit of repair work (the LAST LAST time she promised herself as she suprised her white knight and herself at how quickly her origami skills had reserfaced) she rewarded her saviour with a moped ride to McDonalds for a Happy Meal.
"You've made me SO happy" gushed Jen "but I still don't know your name"
"Xena" replied the slick foreigner "Warrior of health foods"

Jen was sold and ...

May 3rd, 2002, 09:28 PM
... you know...

May 3rd, 2002, 10:06 PM
(in the absence of anyone else writing funnier stuff than myself, here's my effort)

...began a sordid relationship with the very nice looking young man from Belgium (trust me girls, last Wimby I was stood next to him and yes, I most certainly would!). Anyhoo, one problem with their relationship was that it left no time for Jennifer to practice her tennis. Her days were spent fucking the brains out of the strange creature from another land, to the stage that he would complain that she 'tired him out'. Nonetheless, Jennifer had started to have reasonable success on the tour and had even managed to win a non-existent tournament in Strasbourg.

By now, the end of 1999 (am I right here?) Jennifer was wandering around the lower reaches of the rankings and Xavier's nether regions. Even more remarkable was that Steffie had now been replaced, by a man calling himself Harold Solomon, as her coach. The girl had become serious about her tennis, but one job still remained. Throughout press conferences, she would constantly be asked about her rebellious phase which involved theft, under-age drinking, possession of drugs and ridiculous over-charging for her parties. So, to shut people up, she decided that after she lost at the US Open, she would tell the press to leave her alone. To this end, after losing in the 4th round, Jennifer read out a prepared statement, which read:

May 4th, 2002, 06:19 AM
....Dear Xavier

Screw you. Oops, I already have!:) Really though, whats a girl to think when she's always on top:rolleyes: As for the size of your-umm- "you KNOW"-well I've seen bigger baby:eek:

Don't misunderstand me my little Belgian waffle. The good times were good and the bed time better-but it's Jen Jen comes first from now on. Remember me every time you see my "Jen kick" on the serve and think back on that special trick I did just for you.

Goodbye .

Ps. Origami is good for the soul.

THIS prepared statement was read to the Belgian press, which really couldn't care less about Malisse, so it wasn't as widely reported as...........

May 4th, 2002, 07:54 AM
... like ...

May 4th, 2002, 09:12 AM
... Jen's prepared statement

"I write this letter to you using my own words. Thanks for listening and understanding."


The problem was that Martina Hingis had stolen the rest of the statement, and nobody realised. Nobody listened to Chucky anyway. The crap she usually spouted never made any sense, and when she went off on one about origami parties - the press assumed that she didn't understand the culture of America. Players who know Origami get better sponsers and better money, it has nothing to do with their race.

Martina didn't care anyway, she had a new boyfriend, someone who called himself Xena, he seemed cool, and he was blonde.

So Jen sat down and lay her statement on the bench next to her, before folding it into a shape resembling her now ex-boyfriend, and then bashed it repeatedly with her tennis racquet.

Jen could now...

May 4th, 2002, 01:48 PM
...put origami firmly behind her. As the Xena-resembling pattern brutally shred to pieces with every smack of Jen's racket, a feeling of self-empowerment came over her. Her soul and spirit soared as the inner demons which had plagued her were set free. Her fluorescent outfits having long been packed and shipped to her cousins in Italy, Jen gathered every origami pattern and 2-for-1 Big Mac coupon she had accumulated over the years and promptly burned them to ashes in a symbolic and cathartic move that gave her a new lease on life.

Determined to make the most of her neglected potential and to seize her narrowing window of opportunity, Jennifer embarked on a life-altering transformation of mind and body. She began training with an Italian kickboxing coach Steffie had met when she accidentally tripped over him as he crawled on the doorstep of Fila headquarters. She also trained with a ninja master in a secluded temple of rural China and became a black belt 7-dan in Karate, Tae-kwon-do, Kung-fu, Judo, and Aikibudo, and mastered the art of transcendantal meditation. This would enable her to reach heightened levels of focus and concentration in her tennis matches, except when babies cried. Or cell phones went off. Or someone in the crowd dropped a napkin. Jennifer Capriati was well and truly back!!

The tennis world's first glimpse of the rejuvenated Jennifer came in Melbourne at the 2001 Australian Open. Jaws dropped and people whispered as Jennifer triumphantly walked into the locker room...

May 4th, 2002, 02:55 PM
... and the players promptly ignored her as they were far too busy towel whipping Alexandre Stevenson. *thwack* "ah, you lesbians!!" *thwack* Jen coughed *cough cough* but nobody noticed.

Slightly demoralised her 1st round match went to 7-5 in the third but Jen was happy because the baby crying in row ZZZ hadn't been pummelled into slush, improvements all round then.

Suddenly on her re-entry *tut* into the players lounge, she was stopped by Marat Safin, bursting with pride she said "yes, of course I can go and get Anna for you" and fluttered her eyelids in his general direction...

cappy happy
May 4th, 2002, 05:17 PM
…but he had already moved on to Venus’ eye-(and potentially other body part)-popping black and blue dress. “Damn. Like, I can’t even get the lesbians interested,” Jen thought to herself. “Hey Amelie, Conchita, I can bench press 130 lbs – look at these kick-ass biceps!!” But they just pushed past her to go watch Venus’ match – hoping for an overhead smash…

“Well, I don’t know WHAT I have to do around this fucking place to get attention!!! What do they want me to do, WIN or something.” BING!!! Suddenly a light bulb went off! “Gee, that’s a thought. I really enjoy and miss all the media attention - - maybe THAT’LL get it back!! Happily she started to whistle and slinging her bag over her shoulder she ...

May 4th, 2002, 05:48 PM
... knocked Billy Jean King unconcious ...

cappy happy
May 4th, 2002, 06:10 PM
…who, unbeknownst to everyone, stayed on the locker room floor all day and into the evening. The cleaning people, not even noticing her, mopped around her and there she stayed throughout the rest of the tournament – invisible to all. When she awoke, she was demoralized – SHOCKED – that on one seemed to miss “The Queen”. When she pieced together what had happened, she vowed to herself to one day get that Capriati kid back if it killed her. Rubbing her hands together like “The Grinch”, she launched an elaborate scheme. “It might take weeks, months, years even but I’ll get that bitch back!” She raced home and quickly began crafting anonymous press releases saying that Jen bitchy and was calling other players on the tour “fat”. Then she wrote a fake statement about Jen’s incredible sexual appetites with Xavier causing the breakup and keeping other players awake at night. Next on the list was….

May 4th, 2002, 06:19 PM
... the fed cup. "How can I descredit that?" she wondered "Practising ... alo..?"- but her thoughts were cut off by the sound of the ice cream van leaving.

"No wait for me!!!" she puffed, chasing the vehicle down the road. "I want a flake with that!!!"

Somebody who wasn't chasing ice-cream was...

May 4th, 2002, 06:24 PM
... Amelie Mauresmo, she was chasing a female puppy, asking her to marry her, while the dog barking backwards & running in panic. meanwhile, Jennifer kept going on that campaign of hers, to get the media, of course the 1st step was...

May 4th, 2002, 06:53 PM
...winning the next Grand Slam of the year, Roland Garros. As Jennifer impressively progressed through the rounds, Billie Jean watched attentively as she slurped on her drumstick and hatched the next phase in her diabolical plan for revenge.

Anxious to implement phase 2, Billie Jean approached Jen. "Hello Jennifer" she smiled as she pulled a neatly folded piece of white paper out of her right pocket.

At this point, Jen's recently acquired transcendental meditation techniques seemed to escape her as she fumed with rage. "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU!?! YOU KNOW I DON'T DO THAT SHIT ANYMORE!!!!!!", she hollered. "No, no Jennifer, you misunderstand. It's simply the sign-up sheet for Fed Cup next year. You've been doing quite well on red clay, so...are you interested?"....

May 4th, 2002, 07:02 PM
...Jen replied "only if it's green clay and if we can play the match in a town named after my favourite actress Charlotte Ross"

and since there was no town named Ross, Charlotte it was. But first, onto Wimbledon, where the tabloids were...

cappy happy
May 4th, 2002, 09:34 PM
….more focused on whether or not Henman could bring glory back to England, Goran’s multiple personalities, Rafter’s retirement, Martina’s boyfriends, and Anna’s skirts. “So here the fuck I am,” Jen thought, “on the third leg of a Grand Slam and still no real press – well – except for those shitty, never-ending negative ones. I don’t get it!! God, I’m feeling the need to fold something….” Hands trembling, feeling a bout of depression and anxiety coming on, Jen hustled herself off to an origami meeting (“Hello. I’m Jennifer Capriati and I’m a folder.”).

Meanwhile, toiling in her laboratory created for, and dedicated to, the destruction of Jennifer Capriati, encircled by bubbling, vaporizing liquids coursing through tubes and viles, surrounded by witchcraft books, Santeria chicken feet, and voodoo dolls, Billie Jean was pleased. Her plan to create negative press was working. But still, she was looking for that knockout punch. “But what?” she thought mindlessly picking up one of the chicken’s feet to gnaw on. “Well, I’ll just focus on getting her out of Wimbly for now. How? Maybe I’ll make her allergic to grass? No – too trite. I’ll just fix the draw so that she faces Serena and then, IF she gets by her, someone really hungry for a win. That outta do it. She’s gonna think the draw was prepared unfairly and guess what?!??!! She’ll be RIGHT!” Billie Jean chortled to herself.

Meanwhile back at Wimbledon…..

May 4th, 2002, 09:55 PM
... Serena was dining at "The Olde Balti Shoppe" eating a Balti on the table next to Jen. She ordered a chicken vindaloo knowing that her stomach would be able to stand the intense pressure that Indian takeaways would place on her digestive system.

BJK had broken into the Olde Balti Shoppe and placed "extra spicy hot hot with extra hotness sauce" on top of Jen's vindaloo. "Hyup, hyup, table 14" hollered BJK. Unbeknown to her, the restaurant had recently changed the numbers on the tables, so Jen was not sitting at table 14 as BJK had planned her to 7 months earlier, but.... dun dun duuuun!! Serena was.

So as Serena tucked into her "Extra spicy hot hot with extra hotness sauce" vindaloo ...

May 4th, 2002, 11:21 PM
LMAO VBN!! great one!!
:D :D :D :D :D :D

May 4th, 2002, 11:57 PM
...Jen, mistaking it for puréed tandoori, prepared to drink the high-protein, performance-enhancing shake Billie Jean had originally arranged for Serena's table. "Nooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!" Billie Jean screamed, as she leapt towards Jen's table and slapped the glass out of her hands before it could meet with her mouth. Jen, confused by Billie Jean's increasingly erratic behaviour, nonetheless shrugged it off and settled for a side of nan.

Billie Jean was escorted out of the restaurant by the staff and promptly retired to her secret anti-Jen lair, while Serena, clearly annoyed by the ruckus and not too thrilled with her vindaloo, decided to go back to the hotel and order online takeout, vowing never to play Fed Cup for Billie Jean again, unless of course it was an Olympic year.

Meanwhile, back at the lair....

cappy happy
May 5th, 2002, 06:26 AM
....Billie was furious about her foiled plan. Frantically she began tearing through the pages of her witchcraft books. "Hum....let's see....Tremors, Tumors,....AH HA!!!" Yes, giving Jennifer a nice case of Turrett's syndrome while on court might just do the trick. "THIS will cause most people to HATE her!!! Well, all except those freakish morons in Jenn's Den. But hell, everyone knows they don't count anyway."

Meanwhile, after all the turmoil at the restaurant, Serena awoke in the middle of the night with indigestion. "Gee, I hope this doesn't spoil my match against Jennifer tomorrow. I have that tight little red number I designed that I really want to wear." Rolling over she thought...

May 5th, 2002, 11:05 AM
... "what a great excuse to use if I'm losing!!" As she chomped on a packet of reneez, if I win I can mention it too because then I'll look really really hard.

I wonder if Venus is awake... "Vee - are you awake? Don't go to sleep before me
"Fuck off, I'm trying to sleep. Get into your own bed"

Jen meanwhile, was sleeping soudly after her mum had packed Mr. Cuddles her teddy, her lucky toy wasn't with her in Rome and she was certain that ...

May 5th, 2002, 12:33 PM
... you know ...

cappy happy
May 5th, 2002, 01:33 PM
….someone had stolen it but who would want to do that?!? Jen decided it was her imagination and tried to go back to sleep and push the thought of the Wimbledon trophy out of her mind. Earlier in the day she had gotten a gander at what they give you if you win and she was very disturbed by it. “Well that’s just a damn plate! No one told me about this!!! What? Do they think that all women athletes are teetering on suddenly hanging up their racquets and “going domestic” so they give them stupid plates "just in case"? I mean, I like the punch bowl I got at the French (which could double as a gravy boat in a pinch) and the Australian cup makes a nice sized margarita, but a PLATE?!?! Don’t know if I can get myself psyched up enough for that piece of crap!!” But she decided to try because some nice lady had shown up on her doorstep a few weeks prior claiming to be her mother (Jen had to take her word for it) and said she was sick. So….

May 5th, 2002, 02:16 PM
... like ...

May 5th, 2002, 02:38 PM
...never one to back down from adversity, Jen decided she owed it to all the truly sick people of the world to beat those who were only minorly and temporarily sick, and would use that excuse for their loss, even if they were puking their vindaloo out on the court.

So beat Serena Jen did. But the gratification she received was short-lived as her mind wandered back to the domestic nature of the trophy she was playing for. Further demoralizing to Jen was the requirement to curtsey to that stuffy Dutchess chick, and the fact that she was rapidly tiring of her all-white wardrobe. Having become accustomed to vibrant reds and blues, Jen found that the white outfits, while at least not fluorescent, were a painful reminder of her past and quite frankly boring.

When Jen discovered she would play Justine Henin in the next round, it was the final straw. She simply couldn't muster up enough motivation to win. Jen felt that Justine, having 53 brothers and sisters to singlehandedly feed, would have more use for the large dish. So Jen decided to stear her focus towards the upcoming hard-court season...

May 5th, 2002, 05:54 PM
... & let the belgian beat her, & just to make it realistic, she shouted at some ball boys. the hard court season came, Venus lost to Shaugensy, & Jennifer suddenly was... #2. finally, the media started paying attention to the Californaian lady, just b4 she started losing in the preparation for the US Open. She couldnt care less about the preparations for the Open, so she lost in the little tourny (our of purpose of course), putting her practise session with Steffie, just to prepare to her favorite tournament. Back a certain someone's ...

May 8th, 2002, 06:31 PM
... tattoo. *cough* Jen decided she'd had enough of players and the press thinking she was a push over, and apart from convincing Martina that she was "the best player on the tour at the moment" by hypnotising her with the mind boggling paper patterns. "Look Martina!! Aren't they pretty!" "oooooh" etc... (It was an emergency Jen convinced herself)... The press and players weren't THAT convinced.

I mean what's a Grand Slam or two when Anna Kournikova can win a point?? ... sometimes. Anyways, Jen sought the Magical Tattoo Lady (aka mavis) to make herself look "SOLID" "HARD" and just damn right "SCARY". Instead of writing Matthew on her arm in hindu - she went for a henna which secretly meant "DAMMIT I'M NUMBER 1 IN THE WORLD, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN??"


Unfortunatly Billy Jean King has been to the same Magical Tatto Lady (aka. Mavis) and stole (gasp) the equally magical decoder ring and could translate Jen's tattoo ...

May 8th, 2002, 10:33 PM
...which also translated in Sanskrit as 'I really hate Diana Ross and hope I never have to meet her'. With this realisation, BJK smirked and sat down with a smug look of satisfaction. Her plan was all coming together. She realised that all she had to do was give her bestest, bestest friend Diana Ross, the only Diva, a call and ask her to sing before the US Open women's final. Surely, Jennifer would rather not play in the final..and so it proved, when Jennifer walked away from Flushing Meadows at the semi final stage, because Friends was on and her hotel room didn't have a video and she did so wish to see Matthew Perry and his widening waist, to leave BJK, Venus and Serena (with her pepto bismol in hand) to enjoy the free concert before the final. Jennifer who has stayed on in New York spent the evening of the final enjoying herself, by playing Black Jack with a linesman on the Staten Island ferry whilst downing extra strong Lime cordials, cos she's hard, you know?

But Jennifer was not to be stopped and after Martina Hingis slipped on an oily patch on court in some strange European country with no name or flag, and handed Jennifer the one most coveted prize in the game. Finally, she had achieved her most glorious childhood dream. From now on, she would never need to question her credentials to be thought of as a great of the game. She had done it. And, so it was seen by the world, that on October 15th(?) 2001, Jennifer Capriati had become...

May 9th, 2002, 05:16 AM
the proud owner of a brand-spanking-new flashy red Ferrari, a gift from Fila for getting Steffie to stop flooding the creative department with his personal sketches (Fila did however keep one of Steffie's designs, an interesting pink and white backless number). So excited was Jen from this development that she elected to skip the final rounds of a few European indoor tournaments to go to Ferrari and personally pick out her new set of bad-ass wheels. Jen was informed that she would only receive her car a few months down the road, as time was needed to add her customized options, such as an "Italians do it better" vanity plate and a Billie Jean King air-bag.

Meanwhile, a livid BJK wondered what the hell she had to do to bring her arch-nemisis down, as she put-putted down the road in her 1974 Oldsmobile stationwagon. She had pulled out all the stops, yet an oblivious Jen had somehow managed to dodge her carefully crafted bullets and reach the #1 ranking. The situation was getting desperate she thought, as she pulled up to...

cappy happy
May 9th, 2002, 03:18 PM
(Hey! What happened to the plan that I was supposed to revive?!?! I'm away for a bit and return to find lawless anarchy has erupted on on my thread!!! Just joking. I'm tied up - these bastards are making me work so continue on - - but DON'T finish without me.....)
:sad: :sad: :sad: :sad:

May 9th, 2002, 05:17 PM
... to Lindsay "where are my knees?" Davenport flat. Lindsay who had been a victim of Billie's evil plan to decapitate Anna Smashnova which had gone spectactularly wrong when the secret menacing decapitator (SMD) within a tennis raquet had missed when Anna ducked and met Lindsay.
And because Billie could lull the press into the palm of her hand by offering rides in her 1974 Oldsmobile stationwagon - they were suprisingly popular - AND because, well, no one really cares about Lindsay. The whole event hadn't been noticed and unreported and the tour had just thought Lindsay had gone to queue early for Star Wars 2: Attack of the Clones. (Yes, that is why she makes the wooshing sound effects every time she swings her raquet).

Knocking on the door, a Lindsay on crutches, swung her way into the door and was just about to slam it in Billie's face when Billie asked.
"What would you say if I could make you number one WITHOUT having to win a Grand Slam all year...?"
Lindsay kept listening
"I will give you your knees back - for a limited time only - if you knock Jen off the number 1 spot, right at the end of the year"
"Why would I want to do that?"
Billie decided this wasn't the right time to explain her thesis on destroying Jen and taking over the world and so went with option B.
"I want the debate over the computer ratings to be better news than my scamming money off the WTA for a Lipoexpulsion. And you get tonnes of dosh without having to play the final!! Mwah ha ha ha (<--- evil laugh)" *cough* "and because I love you so much"

And with that, the dirty deed was done. Lindsay got her knees back. Billie got her extra 100 pounds (weight not money :rollseyes:) and the tour came to a climatic um, climax as Jen needed to beat Sandrin Testud for the 3rd time in the year to end as number 1....

May 9th, 2002, 05:35 PM
... Jennifer didnt know, that the little french had a kriptonite (SPELL!!!) hidden in her ass (:eek: ).
BUT, one hour b4 the match, a generous Nathalie Tuziat came to Jennifer, saying
"that french gay woman stole my glory in my last *caugh* year! Now i will tell u her secret!" *Tuziat tells a story of how Sandrine stolle the kriptonite (SPELL!!!) from a certain bold guy, & with a certain sergery, implanted it in her body.
Jennifer heard the story, & began her preperation, the 1st move was to tell the head of the WTA "im fucking sick", & he, worshiping her & drawing little stars on the floor while chanting, agreed to delay the match. Than, Jennifer told Steffie that, & Steffie said: "Little eggplant...

May 10th, 2002, 01:27 PM
:eek: :eek: :eek:

May 10th, 2002, 01:28 PM
;) :cool:

cappy happy
May 10th, 2002, 07:14 PM
InSaNiTy – now I know why you’re called insanity….

…I think we’re in a bit of a pickle. The fact that that feisty French fox also has kryptonite up her ass is a problem – it’s an unbeatable double whammy.” And with that Jen started to cry. “But papa, I really want to end the season number one. There’s got to be SOMETHING we can do to get us out of this! Think goddammn it! Think! …. I know!!! What would my hero Xena do?”

With the mere thought of that name, Jen’s heart skipped a beat. Oddly she’d always had a strange fascination for the princess warrior, but kept dismissing it in her mind as nothing. Someday Jen wondered if her unresolved attraction to Xena would come back to one day break her heart. But never mind that now, she had more important....

May 10th, 2002, 07:25 PM
LOL! ;) :D :cool:

May 10th, 2002, 07:54 PM
... hair to dye. Bored with her blonde streaks Jen decided to dye it a red colour. This way she could stand by her Ferrari and no one would know she was there. Or that was the theory anyway. It worked, but only because Xena was colourblind and mistook Jen for Pink, he wasn't into that kind of music so he hurried along.

Jen played her match. The Kryptonite hadn't been scared off by her hair - she even played with her knickers over her tights (pantyhose ;) ) and it didn't help. Whatever shot she played, she could see everything in the bloody over head video thingy. She didn't want to fucking be distracted by pictures of herself, thank you bloody much.

So as Jen was match point down against Sandrine she ...

cappy happy
May 11th, 2002, 12:16 PM
…started uncontrollably cursing. She didn’t know where it was coming from! Cuss word after cuss word popped out but she couldn’t control it. She momentarily stopped the match to take a drink of water but still, the cuss words spilled forth. BJK, hiding behind a pillar poking needles in her Jen voodoo doll, was smitten with glee that her Turret’s Syndrome spell was finally working! Jen lost all concentration and then promptly lost the match. The press crashed down on her and shortly thereafter, she fell to #2.

Utterly dejected by her year end fall to #2, Jen slipped into a dark depression. For days she stayed locked in her room, burning incense and candles, listening to Emeniem and swing dance tunes. For days she searched for an answer. After a week, she emerged and told Steffie she was sick of tennis (again) and wanted to try something else.

“Papa, I’m thinking of pulling a Michael Jordan and trying something else. I think I could be number 1 in some other sport cuz tennis is just getting too friggin hard.” Internally horrified, Steffie decided it was best to listen first. “I’m thinking of trying soccer” Jen said. Steffie stiffened and replied: “Two words – Mia Hamm.” “Oh, you’re right. OK – how about the WNBA?” “Eggplant, they’ve already got Swoopes and Leslie.” Jen slumped in her chair. “Well, how ‘bout netball or rounders or curling? Those can’t be that hard – I mean, look who plays, just those pasty people.” Steffie looked at her incredulously. “Jennifer! You forget. You’re American! We don’t give a crap about those sports and who the hell knows the rules - besides, the UK has the corner on the curling market these days and you couldn’t wear your FILA blue dress to curl – it’d be too cold.”

Jen was crushed. She could, however, wear the blue dress in ice skating competitions she thought excitedly for a moment, “but again, we already have Sarah Hughes and that Kwan bitch who won’t ever leave. OK dad. I’ll go back to tennis I guess. But first can I

May 11th, 2002, 01:13 PM
have horse riding lessons? I'd quite like to be able to beat Martina at a some more things. It's fun. And in the slag department, I'm not really getting any closer, it's just bloke after bloke after bloke - there are no breaks.

Unfortunately, Steffie confused the horse with Gred Rusedski, and Jen has some taste - no, really - and decided not to go riding with the Canadian. *cough* sorry, English person* She decided she would just play tennis, but only after he had explained the rules of netball, rounders and curling. Who knew netball was played on tennis courts in the winter? Maybe she could play it in the off season ... Hmm, interesting.
It was much safer anyway, no potential smacking in the face by a much harder rounders ball, or being kicked in the mouth by a horse ... Poor Martina - scarred her face for ever, poor kid is just completely unable to move her mouth from that scary evil smile. Didn't she see Billy Jean King on that horse?? Or maybe her mind was playing games with her. (*authors note: it wasn't*)
And what other job can you earn over $5,000 a minute? Not mine.

Before she could get back to training, she had to play an exhibition match for the "Winning a match foundation" established by Anna K. Jennifer thought it was for a just cause, I mean who wants to see this kid not winning first round matches in say, May?? That's just cruel. So as Jen ...

May 11th, 2002, 05:09 PM
...really, really couldn't be arsed, she sent along a lookalike, who lost, and spent the night at home watching 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest'. Everyone was happy, Anna won, and Jennifer got to watch her favourite film again. As her evening drew to a close, she wondered if she would ever find a film that she enjoyed quite as much as that Jack Nicholson classic. Some people liked Bambi, but in truth, it had always made her cry and she wanted people to believe she was hard, so a film about a loony asylum it was!

After the exhibition match against Anna, Jennifer left her racquets alone for a while and decided to find a new sport for the winter months. Realising that she needed to make the rest of the tour believe and how she truly can be, and frighten the crap out of BJK in the process, Jennifer took up kick boxing. However, Jennifer had not realised that her new kick boxing chum from another land was now being controlled by the USTA and was on a secret mission to injure the Aussie champ ahead of the new season.

Still, Jennifer had a party to organise, New Year's was looming. So, true to her nature, she considered her options. Did she want a fancy dress party? She could go as a tennis player and wear the blue dress. As much as she really wanted to wear the dress, Jennifer decided againt it and brought in the new year by...

May 11th, 2002, 09:25 PM
…going to her favourite, coolest, most bestest club in all of Miami, but that unfortunately had a strict dress-code forbidding blue jeans and blue Fila tennis dresses.

Planning to boobie-trap Jen’s table with exploding mini-pizza snacks, Billie Jean showed up at the club. After breaking out into laughter so hysterical it caused them to wet themselves and pull several abdominal muscles in the process, the bouncers picked themselves up off the floor and escorted BJK back to her Oldsmobile.

"Don’t you manhandle ME you slimey thugs!" she cried. "Do you know who I am?! I’m King Billie Jean!! If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be playing tennis in relative obscurity for non-existent wages!" After the perplexed bouncers informed BJK that they didn’t give two shits about tennis, she decided it would be better to leave without further resistence and go to plan B. "I know, I’ll just call my very best friend and the one true Diva Diana Ross. Doesn‘t she go way back with that hip young multi-platinum singer Janet Jackson? Surely Miss Jackson could infiltrate the club and do something about Jen. Yes! Thats what I’ll do!"

So BKJ called in the favour, and as agreed upon, Janet would go to the club and request Jen be kicked out of her table. In return, Billie Jean would buy one million copies of brother Micheal’s latest in a string of floundering albums. What neither Billie Jean nor Janet were banking on was the fact that…

May 14th, 2002, 06:34 AM
LOL! :cool:

May 14th, 2002, 03:33 PM
... Jen hadn't heard of Janet Jackson. Sure she'd heard of Michael but only because he mollested all those kids. Jen had taste - no, really - and was into Pink Floyd, and Oasis, and stuff that had a tune and wasn't plastic.

So. When Janet entered the club and demanded Jen to be removed ...

cappy happy
May 15th, 2002, 03:43 PM
…the bouncers just looked at each other and laughed. Janet, like her famous brother, had once had an interesting look but Michael, wanting to slowly transform himself into a white woman so he could adopt McCauly Caulkin without suspicion, went to a plastic surgeon and told the doctor to make him look just like his sister Janet – he wanted her smaller nose. Admiring the results, their lesser-known, freakishly insecure younger sister LaToya, feeling left out, joined in and went to the same plastic surgeon for the same procedure. Enraged by her siblings’ behavior and not to be outdone, Janet also went under the knife. This soon landslided into a bizarre game of “one ups-manship” with each seeking nose reduction after nose reduction to the point where none of them had anything left but pointy, up-turned spikes with air holes. Janet’s beauty and “uniqueness” was lost and in a trendy club like this one, that was everything.

Jennifer, meanwhile, had on a hodge-podge of colors and contrasting materials that, while unplanned and really only the dismal result of her own gruesome sense of fashion, was a hit in the club filled with Miami runway models – people forced to wear garbage bags and ficus plants under the guise of “sophisticated fashion” while working the fashion shows. With their skewed and jaded sense of taste, they were transfixed by Jennifer’s sequined harem top, pink warm-up pants, her one taupe/one green shoe combination topped off with a brown down-filled puffy coat and a red cap. It was truly something to behold. Sooooo, the bouncers showed Janet to the door.

Billie Jean sitting nearby in her Oldsmobile, watching Janet being removed, was beside herself with frustration. “I MUST get this girl and get her SOON or I’ll BURST! But how? ARRRRRRGH!” Then it hit her. “Maybe if I gain her trust, take her under my wing – get into her inner circle I can find a way. Maybe I can seduce Stefano?………..<long retching pause>……….. Ok, maybe only as a last resort.” And with that Billie sped away, as fast as an Oldsmobile can go – with parts flying off the car as she careened down the road. To the lab she must go to lay out the details of “Operation Sweet Talk” and…

May 15th, 2002, 10:00 PM
... because she had rolled it up, it kept rolling back up when she spread it out on her desk. "GODDAMMIT" BJK swore *gasp* before reaching to her replica Wimbledon trophy to use as a paper weight. While looking into the plate, she realised that there was no reflection. OH MY GOD! She's a vampire!! Billy nearly fainted with delight - before realising she hadn't polished the plate in a while and it was covered in a film of dust. oh well.

Unfortunately Billy had written the details of “Operation Sweet Talk" with washable ink AND because she was too cheap to fix the hole in her roof, the ink had dissapeared leaving the letters. F.F.D.C.U.P on the page. "That doesn't make any sense" Billy complained dissapointed that no profound statement was revealed to her. She sat for AGES thinking ...

May 15th, 2002, 10:20 PM
and still she was none the wiser. So, she thought some more. And then, she thought some more. Finally, when her head began to hurt, she went to her local fast fooderie for a healthy snackette. However, by now, her obsession with the devil, sorry Jennifer, had reached a ridiculous level, to the stage that she was now imagining seeing her serving at the eaterie. She wondered why anyone working in a salmonella haven would be wearing a Fila dress and driving a Ferrari to work.

BJK put her glasses on to see better. It worked marginally better than the two paper cups she had been using, held together by the surgical tape she had stolen from Lindsay left knee.

Suddenly, BJK had clear vision and could now focus on the sight before her. Indeed, it was the devil, dressed in the beautiful blue item of fashionware that would become a classic in years to come. BJK had invaded the filming of a commercial for the state of oranges. Seeing her chance to bother the sportswoman of the year (I like that bit!), BJK took a deep breath and walked over to Jennifer and...

May 15th, 2002, 10:33 PM
:D :D :D :wavey:

May 16th, 2002, 12:05 AM
asked if she could hook her up with free tickets to the Magic Kingdom. Jen wanted to keep the tickets to the Magic Kingdom for herself (she was dying to try out Buzz Lightyear's Spaceranger Spin), but offered BJK her tickets to Epcot Center. "Epcot Center??" BJK asked. "Isn't that where they have all those showcases of different countries from around the world? Like from Germany and Italy and Japan and stuff? Pfft! We already kicked all their asses in Fed Cup. Why would I want to go there?"

"Whatever, freak." The devil, er, Jen replied. "I was just trynna be nice. Anyways, gotta go. My plane to Australia's waiting."

Dammit! Not only did she not score any free Disneyland tickets, but BJK's "Operation Sweet Talk" clearly wasn't working. If only she had fixed that damn leaky roof she thought as she pulled out her smudged plan. "F.F.D.C.U.P....Fire Fila Designers Creating Unblue Pieces? No....Find Flaky Dishonest Chair Umpire People? No, that doesn't sound right either...Ugh!! Forget it!! I'll just invite her to F.E.D. C.U.P!"

Meanwhile on the plane to Australia, Jennifer shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had re-aggravated her kickboxing hip injury while doing the running man on the dancefloor of the club in Miami. It's not that she was bad at it or that her technique was wrong, in fact she was the only one in the club who could (or is that would?) do it, but she had accidentally tripped on her brown down-coat in the process. Thankfully, her fall had been broken by Matthew Perry's beer belly, thus minimizing the damage. "I should send him tickets to one of my matches or something" she thought as she...

May 16th, 2002, 12:12 AM
...screwed the brains out of him...

cappy happy
May 16th, 2002, 01:52 AM
…in her dreams as she slept on the plane. As Jen blissfully slept the flight away with a very big smile on her face, Billie Jean was slinking from row to row, working her way up to Jennifer. Billie had snuck on board by posing as a full-scale poster board cut-out advertisement of herself, and fumbling thru her book of witchcraft incantations, she found the passage she was looking for, leaned in close to Jen's ear and began to whisper, “Evil kritcha toil and grup, you will want to play Fed Cup” over and over. Just then Stefano was returning from the lavoratory. “Billie Jean! How you” as his English was still limited and mostly learned from watching Jerry Springer. “Well, I’m fine, “ Billie stiffened and slammed the book shut in a fluster.
“What chu doin on zees flighta?” he asked.
“Well, um, I was, I was, I was just, you know, in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop in to say a quick hello”.
“Passing on plane?”
“Passing on plane?”
“On plane – you jeez passin througha? How can be?” Stefano eyeballed her suspiciously - sensing something was up. His overprotectiveness of Jen beginning to take hold.
“Oh,” she said nervously, “I mean, oh, okay, you caught me.” Billie braced for the worst and resorted to Plan Z, the one only to be used in the most dire of consequences. “Stefano,” she said taking a deep breath, “I find you a very *gulp * sexy hunk of a man – especially your grossly misshapen Italian belly and I just HAD to get on this plane to tell you that.”
Stefano, reeking pungently of cheap lavoratory soap, slowly slithered a smile across his face said….

May 16th, 2002, 10:07 AM
Originally posted by Snuffkin
...screwed the brains out of him...

May 16th, 2002, 10:23 AM

May 16th, 2002, 11:16 AM
....you know....;)

May 16th, 2002, 09:55 PM
...pardon? I don't understand you. Whatta you say?' Meanwhile, the champ of the land of Oz was stirring and out of the corner of her eye, BJK saw this and decided to get the hell out of first class and move her backside into economy. She turned to Stefano and shouted, 'Food trolley!', and pointed behind him. As expected, Stefano turned to see the food he was waiting for, but it wasn't there. As he turned around to ask BJK where his meal was, she had gone. Bemused he sat down beside Jennifer who had now woken up. 'Sweet dreams, my little Jen-Jen?'. 'Oh, yeah, you know, kind of'. And Jennifer stood up and went to the bathroom...

On her return to her seat, Jennifer sat down to watch 'Friends' on her personal DVD player. Watching various episodes, she noticed the change in her new beloved's girth. Looking across at her father, she wondered whether it was part of a father complex. If, as some people say, a girl marries a man like her father, was she attracted to Matthew for his wit, charm, bank balance and delightful tan, or was it because he now had a gut that was nearing the size of her father's? She pondered on her latest thought...it was truly a confusing one. One which was still on her mind when she played her first match in Sydney. However, she noticed that her left/right hip was giving her some pain. She was bemused as to how she had sustained this injury. Little did she know that it was because of...

May 16th, 2002, 10:21 PM
...*ahem*...Oh right! Doing the running man in the club! She wondered if Alexandra Stevenson was as good as her at the running man. Not likely, Jen thought. Even injured, she was quite confident that her technique was better. To prove it, she challenged Alex to a dance-off, with crowd reaction determining who was better. However, Alex cheated, and everytime Jen started dancing, she would smack a service winner and...

May 17th, 2002, 12:49 AM
You guys have cool imaginations! ;) :D :wavey:

cappy happy
May 19th, 2002, 04:50 PM
…score a point while Jen danced (throwing in a few “special moves” learned from her swing dancing days). Her concentration was torn between conflicting thoughts about the dance contest, Matt’s beer belly and the daddy-syndrome, the weird dream she had on the plane about wanting to play Fed Cup, the baby crying in the little café down the street and around the corner from the stadium, those odd thoughts about Xena, the pain in her hip, Monica’s grunts, that fact that maybe Xavier was right - she really WOULD prefer a dog over a boyfriend (but what kind??) - and why doesn’t Danny just use his special telepathy powers at the end of “The Shining” to summon someone other than that old, rickety black cook? With all this going on in her head, she was stunned when, at the end of the match, Alexandra started waving to the fans! What had just happened? “Oh my god. I just lost. This can’t happen! I’m the number 1 seed goddamn it! Well, I’ll show her,” Jen thought, “I just won’t shake her hand. Naw. Better not. I keep getting raked over the coals about that one. Here, I’ll show them!!” And with that, Jen grabbed Alex, dipped her and gave her a big elaborate smackeroo! And with that….

May 19th, 2002, 05:37 PM
... the press assumed she was a lesbian. With Billy Jean King. (oh the shame).

Who keeps being mysteriously seen at all of Jen's matches, on Jen's plane, at Jen's practice sessions, in Jen's hotelroom (Jen wasn't there at the time)etc. etc. Steffie read this in a paper and became suspicious.

"Theees eees highly irregular. Beeeeelly eees everywhere"

Billy was reading the same article at the same exact moment, but only because she was hiding her self from jen who was walking past with...

May 19th, 2002, 06:18 PM
...her new black dog!...

May 20th, 2002, 01:17 AM
.....A band called Garbage made the song "I´m only happy when it rains" which became Juju´s favourite song and before she plays a match she is listening to this song, hoping that destiny might make it happen.....and BINGO....it works.....

May 20th, 2002, 12:11 PM

May 20th, 2002, 03:17 PM
But in Rome it didn´t work.

May 23rd, 2002, 10:06 PM
...her new black dog!...

The dog, sensing Billie Jean's evil presence, stopped dead in its tracks and started whimpering uncontrollably. "Come on" said Jen as she tugged on his leash, but the dog wouldn't budge. "I said, COME ON!"...still no response..."Ugh. If I wanted a whining lazy bitch, I would have stayed with Xavier :rolleyes: "

Deeply offended at being compared to a belgian poodle, the black dog growled at jen before relenting and trotting away. With that, BJK heaved a sigh of relief.

"Whew! That was close!" she thought as she rolled up her newspaper, took off her baseball cap, and lifted the clip-on tinted lenses from her glasses. "I'll need a better disguise to stalk Jennifer at the Australian Open. I know! I'll dress up as David Dickinson! That'll do the trick!"

However, for some unforeseen reason, Billie's disguise didn't work as well as she had anticipated.....


...and so, when an already suspicious Steffie spotted David/Billie in the lobby of Jen's hotel...

May 23rd, 2002, 10:25 PM
...he asked DD/BJK how much Jennifer's replica trophy from last year's AO was worth. Such was DD's popularity, Steffie had made sure he had every episode of 'Bargain Hunt' on tape and he needed more money to pay for them and so decided to sell Jennifer's trophies. Next in line was the Ferrari...then the blue dress.

BJK had to put on her best butch voice and pretend to be a camp man. Not too unsurprisingly, she managed to do this very well. After shouting a price to Steffie, BJK ran as fast as her extremely small legs could carry her. Steffie was already spending the money in his head so he didn't see the antiques expert run like a girl, with her arms flailing, in that way women run.

Back in the lobby, Steffie made a call to his man at the BBC, and ordered the whole new run of episodes. One day, he was going to fulfil his lifetime ambition. No, not coach his beloved daughter to the Wimbledon title, no, one day, Stefano Capriati was going to be on the red team running round an ockshun house in Reading trying to buy wisely. It was enough of an ambition to keep him awake at night. Quite simply, he didn't care for the AO, Jennifer could lose early, he didn't care. He was going to be a star on a BBC daytime show sooner than soon.

His daughter, on the other hand, was still working her way through the AO draw. Her mind was focused on retaining her title, so she was completely and utterly oblivious to the fact that by the beginning of the second week of the tournament...

May 24th, 2002, 10:09 AM
... John Inverdale had persuaded the BBC to run a "Capriati Corner." This would be of the same principal as Kornikova Korner, but would go on for more than the first round and be spelt in the correct manner instead of using the witty but WRONG use of the letter K. Capriati Corner woudl follow Jennifer through her rounds making sexist and chauvenistic comments about her clothing, make-up, hairstyles, and whether her raquet clashed with her tan - it was vital viewing.

Anyway. John was not a fan of the pink "rugby shirt" deciding that Jennifer would never be able to produce her best rugby in a scrum wearing something so feminine. What a minute. Best tennis. So after a week of phone ins, petitions, chat shows surrounding Jennifers outfit. Billy realising the power and magicalness of the pink outfit, and fearing she would win the title in it. She took it upon herself to inform Jen of her fashion boo boo.


"Jen... the pink. It just isn't working for you.... nor is the yellow"

So for the next match, against an italian - like Steffie! - Jen...

May 24th, 2002, 10:21 PM
...decided to wear her trusty blue dress. But horror! When Jen walked into her room, she discovered that all her dresses had been maimed (a big hole cut out of the front). At the same time, Jen noticed a big pair of USTA scissors lying on the floor. “I wonder if this is a clue” she thought as she picked up the scissors and ran her finger along one of its edges. According to the bellboy, evil laughter had been heard emanating from Jen’s room, and shortly after, surveillance cameras had caught someone resembling David Dickinson scurrying away.


Interesting…but there was no time for that now. Jen had a match to play and a pile of damaged blue dresses to tend to. Remembering the sewing skills she had picked up while in origami rehab, Jen cut squares out of her bed linens and used them to patch the holes in her dresses. The result was something resembling a teletubby outfit, but it would have to do for now, besides which Jen quite liked it. Rita Grande, however, found herself hypnotized by the large white square, and…

May 24th, 2002, 11:23 PM
...was incapable of concentrating fully. Instead she found herself besotted with the patch of white across Jennifer's mid-riff. At change-overs, Rita would ponder on Jennifer's tellytubby name. She knew Jen was no Tinky Winky, it was the handbag that ruined it. Dipsy was too neutral to be Jen. Laa-Laa seemed apt for Jennifer, especially when she zoned out during matches and found herself in Laa-Laa land. The final option for Jennifer's new name was Po(o). However, remembering that Poo was the baby of the horribly warped characters, this was discounted. Jennifer was not the youngest of the tour any longer, nor was she the smallest. And so, during points, Rita would imagine what Laa-Laa would be showing the children of the world. It was enough to make her lose concentration when jumping for a smash on set-point in the second set. It surfaced again when serving to stay in the match as she double faulted. Game, set, match, Laa-Laa.

Meanwhile, back in a hostel in some dark corner of Melbourne, BJK was watching on the communal TV and was disgusted to see that the incomplete dresses had not put Jennifer off her match. What would have pissed her off even more was that Jennifer really, really liked her new fashion creation. Sod Venus...I can design these things, she though with glee. Jen's sense of perspective allowed her to understand that the reason she had gone through hell with origami was to bring her to a place where she could sew patches onto dresses. Ah...closure!

And so, much to the King's chagrin, Jennifer had safely made it through to the second week. She needed a new plan and fast. Only one thing for it, she thought...

David Dickinson
May 25th, 2002, 06:33 PM
Pardon my intrusion my lovely bargain hunters....Couldn't help notice the appearance of me in this thread a litte further up.

First of all, I'm delighted to make an guest appearance! Its a real bobbly dazzler of a pic you chose too! If you think Billie Jean King (mind, I remember her as a Moffat) looks alike to my goodself the Duke, then Billie is indeed LUCKY!

I'm not sure about Billie....But I have a pair of spectacles, ladies, that will make you purrr.....

May 25th, 2002, 06:50 PM

It's an honour to have you here in our humble Den Mr. Dickinson. Unless ofcourse you're really Billie Jean?...DUN DUN DUN!!!!

She been hacking into the Den you know, trying to sabotage our post count...:mad:

May 25th, 2002, 08:08 PM
And so, much to the King's chagrin, Jennifer had safely made it through to the second week. She needed a new plan and fast. Only one thing for it, she thought...

... I'll go and have a quick word to Chris and get her to anounce Jen as her favourite to win the title. This way, Jen'll never win!!

So Billy "No Mates" Jean King plodded over to Chris "I don't think Kim will push Jen very far in the French Open Final" Evert, and promptly spilt tomato ketchup on Chris' top.
"How did you do that?!" squealed Chrissy "darhling" Evert "you're not even holding tomato ketchup in your hand!!!"
"Well" replied Billy "Goats rough" Jean King, "that's because I just poured it over your head. Please. If you could just look at the facts for one minute, you would realise that your judgement was biased in the view of me obtaining a lack of ketchup, and you would've arrived and the appropriate and rational conclusion."
She took a pause for breath. She wasn't as fit as she used to be, and found that 3 minutes ranting without air would probably cause her heart failure. that or the burger she ate for breakfast.
"If you would once just think before you opened your mouth. And you would clearly see that Nancy Loeffler-Caro is a far superior tennis player to Jennifer Capriati." She added a "so there" But Chris "there's tomato ketchup on my top and I'm not very happy about it" Evert had gone to the bathroom to wash it off.

Damnation!! Yelled Billy "i have a mans name" Jean King, but the sound was lost somewhere between her chins and so people just smiled politely at the stange lip-syching woman in the corner. Someone who was very familiar with this odd occurence was Enrique Inglasias who...

May 26th, 2002, 01:41 AM
...still bemuses me because I don't find him attractive in the slightest. Ladies, am I alone on this one? Of course I would ask Billie Jean, who apparently is not my lover. She's just a girl who says that I am the one, but the kid is not my son, King, but I don't think men are her thing.

Anyway, Enrique was enjoying a meal of Yorkshire Pudding with extra gravy alongside a main dish of chargrilled peppers. It was delightful! Enrique was in town to accompany his new girlfriend, everyone's favourite whore, Anna 'Not my nipples' Kournikova. When the former Little Miss Moffat, who may well have at some stage in her life sat on her tuffet eating her curds and whey, saw the greasy Spaniard, another idea flashed into her head. Anna's doubles partner, also known as Chucky, the scariest thing to ever grace a movie screen could well meet Jennifer in the final, should they both make it there. So, to ensure that Martina had every chance of winning, BJK...

May 27th, 2002, 01:28 AM
...prayed really REALLY hard. But who was she kidding? Chucky beat Jen? Even God couldn't help with that one. It was common knowledge that even being the scariest thing ever to appear on a movie screen, Chucky was unable to scare anyone ranked higher than her, and especially not Jen, who was very familiar with the horror movie genre. In all of her viewings of The Shining, even the DVD special edition with additional never-before-seen footage, Jen had never flinched, not even once. Cuz she's hard.

Anyways, it was obvious that Billie "don't call be Bob Thornton even though I lust after Angelina Jolie" Jean King would once again have to resort to foul play. To this end, BJK decided to steal all the extra pairs of socks out of Jen's bag before the final. And then she would break out her voodoo doll and give Jen another bout of Turette's. Icing on the cake. And so it was that on the day of the final...

Jun 20th, 2002, 03:27 AM

Jun 20th, 2002, 01:00 PM
I finally met Jen and we spent the nite together! :D :hearts: :bounce: :cool:

Jun 20th, 2002, 01:08 PM
... that it was hot. SO hot that Jen couldn't wear her jumper knitted for her expecially for this occasion by Billy "I'm in love with Little Mo" Jean King - It had a picture of the Fed Cup on the front, it wasn't the Aus cup, but it would have done - Caught completely unawares Jen had to resort to that pretty pink number.

She pottered out onto the court, and spotted that Billy "thats ****ing Mr. Connelly to you" Jean King had her jumper on, and that the very very bright sun was reflecting of the tin foil used to make the Fed Cup look THAT bit more authentic.

Jenny was transficted. "ooooooooh" she said "tubby cust.. i mean, pretty shiny foil, you know" and that was it. Nothing, but nothing could get Jen to take her mind off of that jumper and onto the court and the match where...

cappy happy
Jun 23rd, 2002, 03:10 PM
…everything was beginning to look like a Salvador Dali painting – melting limply under the intense Aussie sun.
Temperatures on court were so scorching, fans were, erm fanning themselves, Chuckie brought an ice vest and Chris Evert was ordering her hunky “personal grape peeler trainer” to rub ice cubes on her legs. But, this did not deter Jen who was so tickled pink with her new outfit, she sent Steffie off scrambling to dig out one of her old pink racquet grips to play with. When he returned empty handed, Jen was not happy. “But daddy, you saw the black cocktail dress Hantuchova is gonna wear in the doubles final! How the hell am I going to compete with that bullshit now!” Suddenly, in the back of Jen’s mind, the vision of a white square popped strangely into view. "Hum....?" But she would have to deal with that thought later, she had more important things to concentrate on.

Still disturbed however by the lack of a pink grip, the annoying sound of the ice melting in Martina’s ice vest, that gruesome crack in Chuckie’s skull so horrifically stitched together, and the distracting sound of spectators fainting in their seats from heat stroke, Jen lost all concentration and quickly fell behind.6-4, 4-0 and was one point away from 5-1 when suddenly…..

Jun 23rd, 2002, 03:55 PM
...she remembered that to even stand a chance she had to play with a racquet. So distraught was she that she was without her pink grip, she had refused to even use any racquet at all. The games she had won to date were all due to Chucky serving so slowly that Jen had ben able to just blow the balls back into court, and Martina then obliged with errors. So, Jen picked up one of her new racquets, with the new fangled grip thingy. Still, Jen did not settle too quickly, but she could sense that the heat was starting to effect the Chuck-Monster. Knowing that Chucky was in fact a wax doll, Jen waited for it to melt. Chucky complied and handed Jen the break of serve back. Nonetheless, when Jen lost her serve to go 3-5 down in the set, it left the horror doll serving for the match.

However, Jen was made of sterner stuff than the wax doll and proceeded to pressure the Hingis serve. But, when Martina held match point, Jen felt she had no option but to...

Jun 23rd, 2002, 08:14 PM
...give chucky the STARE!!!!

Chucky was so afraid she started playing like a cucamber untill the sun did its job. a hour later Jenn was holding the trophy. The crowd was cheering like maniacs, Jenn looked meanly around, & then saw the dear Billie lefting the stadium with...

Jul 20th, 2002, 07:51 PM
...Meghan Shaughnessy. Wanting to shed a few pounds, BJK had enlisted Meghan's help as a diet guru. It was simple, Meghan explained. Acorns and water. Gave you your proteins, kept you rail-thin, but had the unfortunate side-effect of turning you into a chipmunk


Of course a lot of it was genetic, but Meghan thought it best not to tell BJK her mother had been impregnated by a lollypop. Anyways, Meghan used the shadow cast over BJK's rotund imposing figure for shade in the scorching Aussie sun, so it was a mutually beneficial relationship. In fact, the two got on so well BJK decided to enlist Meghan's help in destroying Jen. But that would be later....

Meanwhile, Jen returned to Florida with her third GS trophy in hand. So excited was she at this accomplishment that she completely forgot about the pink-grip fiasco. The next two months were spent getting drunk poolside with Steven on Coronas and apple martinis, and having pizza sent to Chucky's house down the road. After exhausting every pizza place listed in the directory and putting in a few prank calls to radio talk shows, Jen got bored. Scottsdale was coming up and Steven was going back to school in Arizona anyways. His teacher would be wondering why he wasn't back yet from going to the bathroom 3 months ago. So it was settled then Jen would go to Scottsdale and...

Jul 21st, 2002, 11:34 AM
... lose to Serena. I mean someone had to keep the competition alive, and considering Serena was um, indisposed during most of thier matches last year, Jen's charitable nature was vital in Serena's survival.

Unbeknown to Jen, Serena already had help from the Wicked Witch of the West (BJK) who had struck up a deal with the younger Williams by giving her her magical slippers without having a garden shed killing her, after everything the Wicked Witch fo the West had done for the advancement of tennis and the manufacure of ugly footwear it was the most o-zone friendly solution.

"Click your heels 3 times etc...."

Unbeknown to Serena (there's a lot of unbeknowing in this chapter) the Witch had made the trainers gold not so they would clash with Serena's hair - although they were doing a good job in that department too - the Witch was beginning to realise that Jen couldn't resist shiny objects. Jen was Hypnotised .... "oooooooh shiny colours etc" and was unable to keep her eyes off the shoes while serving, which meant it was a DF fest.

Jen lost 2-6 6-4 4-6 and so went to drown her sorrows in Sminoff Ice "as clear as her conscience"...

Oct 29th, 2002, 06:09 PM
…while flipping through the pages of the latest People magazine.


“Heh. Why not?” Jen thought in her drunken stupor. Besides, since Venus had pulled out of a tournament to get more bed-time with her Italian boyfriend sprained her wrists lifting her own bags, the WTA had implemented a bag carrier requirement for all the top players. So MP became Jen’s official bag-carrier for her next tournament, the NASDAQ-100. He didn’t end up being very good at it though, as Jen had to repeatedly call him in the right direction as he had a tendency to wander off to the nearest hot dog stand.


*Sigh*. In spite of this, Jen managed to breeze her way to the final, where she was meeting Serena. Again. This time, Jen left the traditional telletubby garb behind as Ferrari supplied her with her own red outfit to match Serena’s, plus extra red cap to neutralize the effects of the magical golden slippers. What Jen wasn’t counting on was having MTV camera crews following Serena around on the day of the final for an MTV: Diary special. WTF??? Jen thought. My past is more sordid than Eminem’s, but they’re doing a special on Serena??? Unbeknownst to Jen, MTV really WAS there for her, but BJK had gotten them to follow Serena and annoy Jen instead, in exchange for her promising to stop flooding the lines with Melissa Etheridge requests. Pissed off and distracted by the whole situation, Jen decided to lose to Serena 7-6 7-5 and cancel her subscription to People magazine.

The next couple of weeks were spent preparing for Fed Cup, where…

Oct 29th, 2002, 06:11 PM

something to do during the off-season ;)

Oct 31st, 2002, 06:18 AM
You guys are the funniest! :D

Oct 31st, 2002, 02:43 PM

Oct 31st, 2002, 03:10 PM
OMG, this is ancient stuff :o

Kripnonite up her ass :o:o:o, now I know why i was called InSaNiTy:o

Nov 2nd, 2002, 09:57 PM
BJK had taken the Austrian theme a bit too far. (They were only the opponents, love). As Jen walked into her cell, um, hotel named Auschwitz appropriately enough to find a list of rules pinned to her door.

World Team Tennis Fed Cup Rules

(1) If you're better than me, you're not on the World Team Tennis Team
(2) We are playing to be a World Fed Cup Team Tennis, not to win.
(3) It's the taking part that counts.
(4) It's the taking part as a World Fed Cup Team tennis which counts more than taking part.
(5) World Team Fed Cup Tennis is a team game, an individual has the power of more if you practice as a team.
(6) i am not to be called a control freak.


If this wasn't ominous enough, Babsi can running into...

cappy happy
Nov 6th, 2002, 08:38 PM
….the locker room and announced that she decided to forego the Fed Cup to concentrate on her singles *cough* career. Suppressing gales of laugher, Jen asked Babsi who was going to represent the Austrian team then? “Well, we have Barbara Schwartz. Billie Jean says we won’t need anyone else,” and with that, Babsi tossed her blonde hair and flitted out of the room with an “Irish Bars in Charlotte” guide book sticking out of her back pocket.

Jen was perplexed by Babsi’s comment about only needing one person – and especially Barbara Schwartz – that old has-been/never-was was all dried up Jen thought to herself. “Why I could kick her ass even without the Capri-kik ©” Little did Jen know that BJK’s plan to ruin Jen’s career was finally beginning to blossom. For years Billie had toiled in her lab for this day to come. All those years of failure leading to this! Billie’s eye twinkled with glee when she posted her new Ten Commandments Regarding Practice Sessions the next morning on the locker room door. Those Commandments read, “Thou shalt not……

Nov 6th, 2002, 08:53 PM
1. Thou shalt not practise unless I give my express permission
2. Thou shalt not continue to practice unless they have submitted 2 written requests
3. Thou shalt not practice with a Prince racquet
4. Thou shalt not practice on weekdays if your name begins with a 'J'
5. Thou shalt not be allowed to hit a ball in a manner which might hurt it
6. Thou shalt not practice their serve, because mine is the best.
7. Thou shalt not wear shoes suitable for the purpose for fear of marking the practice courts
8. Thou shalt not practice more than 5 minutes a day, unless it's part of team games
9. Thou shalt not ever step onto court unless tied by string to the other memebrs of the team, expecially me
10. Thou shalt not be any good when it comes to competition time.

Jen read the list through but wasn't too sure she could stick to it. After all, she was particularly bothered about keeping Commandment number...

Nov 9th, 2002, 04:52 PM
...s 1-10. But #9 especially sucked. The last time Jen was tied to a group of people with string was when she went on a field trip with the crew at origami rehab. So bad memories there. Plus, where the hell would they find string long enough to encircle Billie, thin enough to be thinner than Meg, and unstring-like enough to not be confused for Monica's hair?? Completely implausible :rolleyes: Oh, was Lisa on the team too? Whatever.

Jen decided to take her concerns up with her team members, and to this end went to Meghann's room, where she found another, different set of Commandments on the door, which read like so:

1. Thou shalt eat.
2. Thou shalt kiss my ass and do as I say.
3. Thou shalt love and worship me.
4. More importantly, thou shalt make Jen love and worship me.
5. Thou shalt kidnap Jen every night and bring her to my room.
6. Thou shalt not harm a single hair on Jen's beautiful head because Jen is the most perfect creature ever.
7. Why doesn't Jen love me?
8. We could have been so happy together...
9. Jen broke my heart :sad:
10 Thou shalt DESTROY Jen!!

Distrubing. Jen cracked the door open to an even more bizarre scene as Meghann, Monica, and Lisa were drinking Kool-Aid in their "I Love Billie the Queen of Tennis" t-shirts© and sporadically kneeling down to pray at the Alter of Billie©.

Hmmm...obviously her teammates would be of no help, so Jen decided to take the matter to Steffie, who's reaction was to...

Nov 9th, 2002, 06:55 PM

Nov 11th, 2002, 10:32 AM
tell that old "Bastardi" to shove that Calzone where
the sun don't shine. And he wasn't talking about
Antartica. Stefano could not contain himself ,and
yelled... "Cazzo di Billie Jean King" which translates into
"Fu*king Billie Jean King". How could she? Who made
her Queen? Was it the "Bastardi"? How could the
"Bastardi" do this to Jen.

Bastardo Fosso!! Bastardo Fosso!!

We must ditch the bitch! We must ditch the bitch!

It never looked good from the beggining. Lindsay
Davenport? She's a Republican. What can you expect
right? When did FED CUP become so...Republican?

Stefano decided that the day he leaves Jenny's
practice court is the day he DIES. He simply
brought the towels, and the energy drinks, and
planted himself inside the court when along comes
the old hag with her cronies.

"Dio boia(in Shit)" thought Stefano..

Nov 16th, 2002, 08:25 PM
...as Billie walked towards him, her face turning red and even more bloated than usual as the blood rushed to her head and made her veins pop out, like the time her local supermarket ran out of twinkies. She started screaming in incomprehensible jibberish while flailing her arms around and stomping her feet, which was causing considerable tremors in the Earth.

"Pezzo di merda! Calma down, Beelee! Don’ta get your panteez in a tweest! I’ma gonna make you an offer you cannot refuuz!" Steffie challenged Billie to a Battle of the Potbellies Sexes for the right to attend practice and the abolition of Commandement #9. Lisa, Meghann, and Monica started crying like little girls and ran to the Alter of Billie© to pray, while Jen on the other hand had to do some quick thinking. She dug up the pink-grip raquet and pink AO outfit to make sure all the luck would be on Steffie's side.

Billie won the rigged coin toss and elected to receive, afterall her serve was such a big weapon *cough*, better save it for later. So it was that emulating the motion he had taught Jen for years, Steffie tossed the ball 3 meters to his right and 2 meters in front of him. As he chased the ball down, the gravitational pull of his potbelly caused him to fall to the ground, but not before the ball somehow managed to fall in the service box and bounce slightly before plopping down next to Billie, who swung her racquet 30 seconds later and proceeded to dislocate her shoulder. Forced to retire due to injury, it was game, set, and match Steffie!! "Figlio d'un culo! I won!!" he cried as he picked himself up, brushed himself off, and twirled around in his lovely if not very tight pink dress. At this point Billie's face turned red again and she started doing the flailing arms thing, informing Jen that she was off the team, to which Jen responded...

Jennifer's wife
Nov 23rd, 2002, 05:22 PM
....f***ing motherf***ing miserable sonofa godamn bi**h!! (with the emphasis on "son") screw u and your team of brainwashed zombies! your just jealous ive made freinds with martina navratilova who u hate coz she ended your winning streak and her glasses were better than your dame edna everage replicas!!! (see 1970's pics-author) Cant wait to see how your precious team does against Austria without me...............

Nov 23rd, 2002, 08:04 PM
This thread is so brilliant!

Jennifer's wife
Feb 23rd, 2003, 12:41 AM
:bounce: BUMP!:bounce:

Feb 23rd, 2003, 03:44 AM

have you thought of sending this shizz to Mary Carillo and or Pam Shriver? If so let's see if this gets mentioned on air. ;)


Sep 26th, 2004, 07:26 PM
I'm going to continue this story and try to catch it up to the present time.....

Billie Jean's team wound up losing that tie, thanks to her stupid decision to kick Capriati off the team.

The following year, Billie tried to persuade Jennifer to play in the Fed Cup semifinal. She knew that the team would be toast without Jen. So she decided to give the Capster a call.

Ring, Ring

Jen was in the kitchen, munching on some delcious carrot sticks when she saw Billie Jean's name appear on the caller ID.

"Oh no, not that bitch again," said Jen.

She let the phone ring for ten minutes just to turture Billie Jean. Finally she picked up....

"Hello?" said Jen.

"Hi, Jenny. It's me, Billie Jean King."

"Oh, hi there Billie Goat."

"Please, don't call me that. You're too old to be talking like that."

"You're not my mother. Now why the hell you are calling me?"

"I wanted to know if you could play the Fed Cup tie in Moscow?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm not going back to Moscow! You must be the worst coach ever. I mean, do you not know how bad I play indoors during this time of the year?"

"But, Jen, I need you! Nobody else who is any good will play."

"So are coaches allowed this time?"

"Yes, of course!"

"And there are no mandatory Yoga and team bonding sessions?"


"And I can do whatever I want?"

"Yes! Yes Yes! So are you in?"

"No fucking way!" and with that Jen hung up the phone.

Bille Jean started to cry. "Nobody likes me! Everybody hates me! What is wrong with them? I AM women's tennis!!! They should be kissing my feet and bowing down in my presence! Those bastards! I'm going to get even with everybody! Those bitches! Those bastards! Those straight fools! Those..... Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!"

And with that the US team lost in the Fed Cup final and Billie Jean was asked to resign (aka being fired).

Sep 26th, 2004, 07:34 PM
Now that Billie Jean was no longer Fed Cup captain, she had to come up with a plot to seek revenge on her former Fed Cup slaves, er team. Not only did she want to get revenge on Jen and Lindsay for turning down Fed Cup, she wanted to make life miserable for all the players. She reasoned that none of them took Team Tennis seriously, therefore all of them must hate Billie Jean King.

She thought long and hard. She tossed and turned. Finally after five days of plotting, Billie knew what to do. She would become the new CEO of the WTA.

So Billie called up CEO Larry Scott and paid him 2 million dollars, gave him five cars, two houses and a lifetime supply of chocolate. She was now the new CEO of the WTA. Now she could come up with strict rules and would get her revenge!

Sep 26th, 2004, 07:54 PM
Now Billie knew that the first way to bug the hell out of the players was to make very idiotic rules. Among her new rules were...

1. Any player who is asked to play Fed Cup will do so, otherwise they will be fined $25,000 and suspended for a year.
2. Players who play fewer than 15 tournaments a year will be fined $100,000.
3. Players will be required to wear BJK patches on their tennis outfits during matches.
4. All players will be required to wear "I love Billie Jean King t-shirts," during press conferences.
5. Every single WTA event will now be a team competition. Only the Slams will be individual events. The top 8 teams will make the WTA Championships.
6. During the off-season, players will attend a mandatory two week session which will include videos on the importance of team spirit and how Billie Jean King influenced women's tennis.
7. Players will no longer be allowed to have coaches present at ANY WTA event. Only I will be allowed to give advice to players.
8. Before every match, everyone will be required to sing, "Billie the Great."
9. Every WTA player will think alike, talk alike and times will even walk alike.
10. All players will be required to promote the WTA 20 hours per month. Any failure to do so will result in the loss of 100 ranking points.

Nov 18th, 2007, 12:32 AM
Once Upon A Time :sad:

Nov 28th, 2007, 01:57 AM
Once Upon A Time :sad:


Nov 29th, 2007, 02:38 AM
those were the days:)