A Very Special Ramsey Christmas
I recall many years ago, my dear Sister-in-Christ Patsy Ramsey and I were having lunch at the Four Seasons (dreadful service) the other day and she was absolutely enraged. She was verily spitting flourless chocolate cake! I know she gets like that, and as a good friend I turn a blind eye to her peccadilloes as her rage seldom leads to death. Anyway, what had set Patsy off this time was that she had gotten her hands on the script to the new NBC television special "A Very Special Ramsey Christmas." I don't think Patsy appreciated my saying, "Patsy, dear, any show about living at your house should be called 'Survivor'!"

Patsy was livid that they had cast Delta Burke as her because of Delta's weight. I had just mollified her with the lie that news television cameras "add 40 pounds in daylight." Patsy slammed the script on the table, yelling: "There is no way that cow could wear my holiday sweaters or get that body down that spiral staircase carrying a cocktail, much less a corpse!" Anyway, I managed to have our waiter quickly Xerox a few pages of the script for all of you while Patsy was in the bathroom purging. I'm sorry that I couldn't get more, but I didn't want to get caught by Patsy because there was no way I was going to allow her to muss my $560 coif with one of her paintbrush garrotes!

ACT THREE

FADE IN:

INT. BEDROOM, LITTLE GIRL'S ROOM -- NIGHT

A pretty, young girl stifles a yawn and begins to tap dance unenthusiastically.
JONBENET
      I've written a letter to Daddy --
PATSY (O.C.)
      Sing out JonBenet!
JONBENET
      The address is --
PATSY (O.C.)
      Sparkle, JonBenet, Sparkle!
JONBENET
      The address is our secret place in the basement below --
PATSY (O.C.)
      I said sparkle Goddamnit!
A WOMAN'S HANDS

Snap a paintbrush

JONBENET (O.C.)

Screams

CUT TO:
INT. KITCHEN - VERY EARLY MORNING

A very well appointed kitchen. BURKE, a young boy, is sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal. PATSY, a plumb woman with dark hair and pasty skin, wearing an outfit too dressy for breakfast, enters the room. She is furiously scribbling on a yellow legal pad.
BURKE
      What are you doing Mommy?
PATSY
      I'm trying to decide what happened to JonBenet.
BURKE
      Last time I saw her she was playing doctor with Daddy.
PATSY
      Eat your cereal!
PATSY continues to muse while writing on a pad.
PATSY (CONT.)
      Maybe she ran away. No, that makes me look like a bad mother. Maybe..she has been kidnapped by a molester!
BURKE
      Daddy?
PATSY
      I'm not talking to you!
PATSY scratches out words on her pad.
PATSY (CONT.)
      Maybe...she has been kidnapped by a colored man!
BURKE
      You mean like Susan Smith's kids?
PATSY
      I said eat your cereal. No, that didn't work. Besides, I keep forgetting we're not in Atlanta. Like we have colored men in Boulder! I mean, HELLO? Never around when you need 'em . . .
PATSY scratches out more words.
PATSY (CONT.)
      Oh, I know! She was kidnapped by Osama Bin Laden. Burke, do you know, is it Ben or Bin Laden?
BURKE
      I don't know.
PATSY
      I don't either. I hate foreign people and the silly names they give their children. JonBenet was - -
PATSY strikes through the words she has just written.
PATSY (CONT.)
      JonBenet was taken by....I'm just going to go with Foreign Faction.
PATSY writes these words on the pad.
PATSY (CONT.)
      Foreign Faction. I like that. Maybe they'll bomb one of those countries than end with stan just for JonBenet! That beats a plastic tiara!
PATSY laughs. BURKE winces.

JOHN walks into the kitchen holding the body of a little girl.

JOHN
      Do I smell coffee?
PATSY
      Decaf. We've had enough excitement for one morning.
JOHN, while still holding the girl, pours himself some coffee and speaks as if he is reading from a teleprompter while he scoops the last bit of sugar from a ceramic container painted with angels.
JOHN
      Oh. My. Someone has killed our little girl. Whoa, this coffee is tasteless.
PATSY
      Well, no one can accuse you of having no frame of reference when it comes to tastelessness.
JOHN ignores PATSY. JOHN drops the body on the floor and moves it with his foot while drinking his coffee.
JOHN
      Is the note ready?
PATSY
      Just about. Remind me not to do this the next time. After that practice note, my hands are killing me with these block letters. They may hang me for this, but no one is going to mock my penmanship.
JOHN
      OK, let's pretend I've just laid her on the kitchen floor.
PATSY
      Wouldn't be the first time.
JOHN
      Just stick to the problem at hand Patsy. Now do your part.
PATSY looks down at the little girl and reads from index cards.
PATSY
      Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. Ask him to raise our daughter. Pray for JonBenet. How's that?
JOHN
      I like that religious stuff. In fact, let's do it by the Christmas tree so more people will hear you.
PATSY
      Oh, they'll hear me all the way to Denver!
PATSY laughs. BURKE winces.
PATSY (CONT.)
      OK, the note is done. Get that little tramp down into the basement and then we'll call the police. Burke, listen carefully! You get back up to bed. One word out of you, young man, and I have got a whole box full of paintbrushes, duct tape and twine with your name on 'em!
CUT TO:
INT. RAMSEY LIVING ROOM

BOULDER POLICE OFFICER IS READING RANSOM NOTE WHILE PATSY IS FLOPPING AROUND ON THE FLOOR CRYING
PATSY
      Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus!
POLICE OFFICER
      Are a foreign fraction - -
PATSY
      Oh, Jes -- Faction, you idiot! Faction! Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus! A dingo ate my baby!

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