Chasing Abby
Part 1
by: Melissa and Tammy


Author's Note: This is a rip off of 'Chasing Amy'. The plot, characters, even dialogue is taken from the movie. There is lots of profanity, sexual innuendo, and not so nice stereotypes. Remember that this is a parody. Exaggeration comes with the territory. First song is by Jennifer Paige. Second song is by Sting. Third song is by Beth Nielsen Chapman. There is also a scene in which the police don't follow protocol, and someone is injured. Now we know this never happens.


(Spielberg Convention, 2009)

“Hi, are you Dawson Leery, author of ‘Steven Spielberg: Just a Name? I Think Not’?” a boy asked.

Dawson smiled. “Yes, I am.”

“Dude! You rock! Could you sign my book?” the rabid fan pushed his book across the table.

“Sure. Who do I make it out to?”

“Me.”

Dawson rolled his eyes, but signed the book. He wrote, ‘To a very big fan: Best Wishes and Reeces Pieces. Dawson Leery.’

“You are awesome. Your insights are so insightful. I mean, this is some deep shit you write about…”

Joey Potter sighed and tried to ignore the obnoxious fan that was talking to Dawson. She knew going to the convention was a bad idea. All these fans. Couldn’t they get a life? She took out the manuscript to their next book, ‘Steven Spielberg: Just a Genius? I Think Not’.”

A fan interrupted her. “So, you’re Joey Potter, right?”

She pointed to the poster above their table: Meet Dawson Leery and Joey Potter, authors of ‘Steven Spielberg: Just a Name? I Think Not’.

“Dude, I totally thought you were a dude! You see, I was thinking that only a guy could think up these insights and shit. But then my roomie told me that you were a chick. And I was like, no way. And then he was hell yeah. I mean, what kind of chick has a guy’s name? Then my roomie said to me, ‘Hey Jeff, what if she’s a lesbian?’ And I was like, dude, that would totally make sense. I mean what if she’s this angry ass dyke or some shit? But now I see you and you’re kinda attractive. So I’m thinking that maybe you’re not a lesbian after all. And if you were, then damn girl. So anyways-wanna sign my book?”

Joey grunted and signed the book.

“So, you and Dawson are co-writers of this book?”

“Not exactly. I’m more like the contributing composer.”

“Say what? So that means you like write the first half of the book?”

Joey shook her head in disbelief, “No, we both come up with the ideas for the book. Dawson writes the first, second, and final draft. And I go over them, revising and adding in funny comments and insights.”

“So you’re a spell checker.”

“No. I’m a contributing composer.”

“Yeah right. You’re a spell checker.” He turned to a fan passing by. “Hey dude. If some guy writes a book, and you go over it looking for spelling mistakes: Doesn’t that make you a spell checker?”

“Uh…yeah I guess.”

“See I told you. You’re a spell checker. Just admit it.”

“Listen, do you want your book signed or not?”

“Now don’t get bitchy with him just because you’re insecure with your station in life.”

“Oh, I’m secure with what I do.”

“Then say it. You’re a spell checker.”

“I’m gonna spell check your ass, mother f*cker!” Joey jumped out of her chair, lunging for the asshole. She only got one punch out before Dawson grabbed her. “Let me at him, Dawson!”

“Security!” Dawson yelled, “Someone get this asshole out of here.”

The security guard dragged the fan away.

“Joey, what were you thinking? Remember the audience principle. If you insult them and beat the shit out of them…we don’t have an audience.”

“Whatever. Next.”

“Hell no. I don’t want the spell checker to sign my book. I want the real author.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” Dawson grabbed Joey’s arm.

“C’mon, we have to go. Show starts in five minutes.”

(Conference Room)

Pacey stood up behind the podium, glaring at his audience. As he began, Joey and Dawson entered and sat in front. “For years in this industry, whenever a white character was introduced in his movies, he was beat down. Called bad names, vilified, even killed. He was the big bad white guy. Everyone hated him.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Indiana Jones was a white guy, and everyone loved him,” Dawson said.

“Who said that?”

“I did.” Dawson stood up. “Indiana Jones is white and a hero to the youth of America and all aspiring archaeologists.”

“Shut the f*ck up.” Dawson sat down. “Indiana Jones? Nobody looked up to Indiana Jones. Sure they watched his movies, but he was no hero. They were just watching his rippling pectoral muscles move under that tight leather jacket of his. They watched him snap that whip and wish they could be on the receiving end of that blow.”

Joey cleared her throat.

“Uh…anyway.”

“What about ‘Schindler’s List’?” a voice from the audience called. “Schindler was a good guy. He saved all those Jews.”

“And what color were those Nazis, fan boy? Purple? Green? No, white!”

“What about ‘Jurassic Park’? That’s just some good wholesome dinosaur fun.”

“Excuse me? Who were the dinosaurs trying to eat? The white man. Sure, I know there’s one token black in the movie. But Spielberg just put him in there to fake us out. Speaking of fake-the black guy wasn’t even eaten. All that we see is a fake ass arm. For all we know-he could have gnawed off his own arm off, trying to get away from them.”

“What about ‘Jaws’?”

“What color was the shark, mother f*cker? White. And not just any white. Great white. A great white who just so happened to kill hundreds of people and injure several others. They’re making the white guy out to be some malicious and violent guy.”

Joey stood up. “What about ‘E.T.’? Elliot was a white kid, and he took care of E.T.”

“Yeah, sure he did. But what happened to E.T. when he was away from home too long and spending too much time white folk? He turned white. Pasty white. He got sick and sh*t. Do you know what Spielberg is trying to say? Deep inside, white man can’t do sh*t. They can’t even help a poor little alien.”

“Well, isn’t that true?” Joey asked. “I mean, look at the Bay of Pigs Invasion. The white guy got his ass kicked by the Cuban commies. And how about peace in Ireland? You white men can’t do sh*t.”

Pacey snapped. “I going to kill you.” He kicked over the podium, and drew a gun. People in the audience screamed. Pacey pointed the gun at Joey, and shot her in the chest. She fell over, and the audience evacuated the room. Dawson stayed in his seat, looking bored.

When the coast was clear, Pacey nudged Joey. “You can get up.”

Joey stood up. “Is it clear?”

“Yeah. Damn bitch, I almost peed in my pants when you mentioned that Bay of Pigs thing. Where do you come up with that sh*t?”

“Pacey, that really happened.”

“Oh.” Suddenly he leaned over and kissed Joey.

“Ew!” Joey wiped her mouth. “What the hell was that for? Aren’t you supposed to be gay?”

“Yeah, but it looks good for my audience.”

“What audience? You scared them away with your fake white supremacist act.”

“Oh, right.”

“How long are we going to be doing this?” Dawson asked. “You can’t go on pretending to be a skinhead forever.”

“Hey, I need that angle to sell my book, ‘A White Knight in Spielberg’s Castle’. If my readers found out I was gay…. Well, it wouldn’t be pretty. Speaking of which, Dawson, I love what you did to your hair.”

“Thanks.” Dawson patted his hair. “I used Pantene Pro-V this week. Hair so healthy it shines.”

“Damn, I wish Pantene Pro-V sponsored my book. But then again, I’m not a Pantene guy. I’m more of a-”

“Wham, bam, thank you man, kind of guy?” said a new voice. The threesome turned around and saw the petite blond standing behind them.

“Actually, I’m a wham, bam, bam, bam, thank you man, kind of guy, Jen.”

“Bam, bam, bam? You can only stay hard for three seconds. That’s okay, I guess. You’re probably on the receiving end most of the time.”

“Bitch,” Pacey said affectionately. “Guys, I want you to meet Jen Lindley. She’s the author, ‘E.T. Was Really a Girl: The Exploration of Lesbianism in Spielberg Films’. Jen, this is Dawson Leery and Joey Potter. They wrote ‘Steven Spielberg: Just a Name? I Think Not’.”

“Oh yeah, I read your book. It’s cute. Chick stuff, but cute,” Joey said.

Dawson smacked her. “Don’t mind her,” he told Jen. “She’s dealing with being a contributing composer.”

“Oh,” Jen said. “You spell check.”

“I liked your book,” Dawson told Jen, gazing longingly in her eyes. “I’m just surprised we didn’t meet at any conventions before.”

“Jen never comes to these things,” Pacey explained. “Too many guys around for her liking.”

“What are you, some man hating lesbian?” Joey asked.

“Joey!” Dawson bitch slapped her. “Tact. Look it up.”

“So, I invited Jen out for drinks. Do you guys want to come along?” Pacey invited. “Or is there a Movie Night you have to go to?”

“No,” Dawson said.

“Yes,” Joey said at the same time.

Dawson stared at her. They locked in a battle of the wills. Finally, Joey said, “Okay. We’ll go.”

(At the Bar)

“C-3PO was not gay,” Joey told Pacey. All four of them were sitting at a table, downing Sam Adams’.

“Oh really? He was awfully attached to R-2D2,” Pacey countered.

“He was British, I’ll give you that.”

“Honey, he was flaming! Don’t deny it. Anyone with half a brain can tell you that C-3PO was a little AC DC.”

“What’s with all these acronyms? I’m getting confused,” Dawson mumbled.

Pacey turned to Jen. “What do you think, Jen?”

“I’ll have to agree with Pace. C-3PO never did find a girl robot.”

“Hello?” Joey said. “Remember ‘The Empire Strikes Back’? C-3PO got a little girl action in Cloud City.”

“But when R-2D2 came calling, guess who came running?” Pacey reminded. “Like I said, he’s AC DC.”

Joey stood up. “C’mon,” she told Pacey. “We’re going to Blockbuster. And I’m going to prove to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, C-3PO liked chicks.”

Pacey sighed. “Fine, I’ll come. You guys stay here. We will return.”

“Is she always like that?” Jen asked when Joey was out of earshot.

“Joey? Hell yeah. I remember in high school, this guy Warren started hitting on Joey. You know what she did?”

“Hit him back?” Jen guessed.

“Hey, how did you know? Yeah, she broke his nose.”

“She just seems to be that kind of girl. Plus I heard about the assault on one of your fans.”

“You know, you are the most beguiling woman I have ever met.” Jen rolled her eyes and Dawson noticed. “You don’t seem to take men’s compliments very well.”

“I take what I need.”

“And what’s that?”

“Another round, fast.”

“Coming right up.” He went up to the bar, grabbed two more beers and walked back to the table. As he sat down, he tried to look suave, but ended up spilling one of the beers all over Jen.

“Sh*t, this dry clean only.”

“I’m sorry. How bout I make it up to you?” Dawson waved his hand, “Another round of drinks.”

Jen stood up abruptly, “Uh…no, that’s okay.”

“Well, can I at least pay for the dry cleaning bill?”

(Joey and Dawson’s Apartment)

“And then she said, ‘No, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal. Remind me to call you whenever I feel like getting something spilled on me.’” Dawson sighed, “She wants me. I can feel it. We just met, and she’s already planning our future dates.”

“So that was your moment? Wow. I’m so impressed. You had a moment,” Joey mocked.

“We didn’t have a moment. We shared a moment,” Dawson said, gesturing with his hands.

The phone began to ring and Dawson reached over and picked it up, “Hello?”

“Hey D. I’m bar keeping tonight. Feel like joining?” Pacey said.

“Naw. Joey and I need to meet a deadline for our first draft and we haven’t even started yet.”

“I told her you wouldn’t be interested.”

“Told who?” Dawson asked.

“Jen. I think she had her heart set on you coming. But since you can’t make it-”

“What time?”

Pacey laughed, “10 o’clock. This place is called the Meow House. See you then.”

“Bye.” Dawson hung up the phone. “Jo, I’m going to go to this new bar tonight.”

“Why? We just went out last night. Wait a minute-is it a girl?”

“Yeah, Jen.”

“Thought so. So when are we meeting Jen?”

“Who said anything about we? This is all about me. I’m flying solo.”

“I’m not gonna rain on your parade. I’m perfectly capable of finding people to converse with.”

“But what happens if I hook up with Jen? Where will you be without a car?”

“Ha. I doubt that.”

“Ye has little faith.”

“No, ye has common sense.”

(The Meow House)

Joey and Dawson entered the bar and immediately spotted Pacey and headed towards him.

“Hey Pace. What are you doing here?” Joey asked.

Pacey held a hand up to his chest in mock shock, “What? Pretty boy here didn’t tell you that he’s finally decided to come out of the closet? It just so happens he and I are having a date tonight.”

“No, it must have slipped his mind.”

“Excuse me, I’ll be back in a moment.” Dawson headed towards the bathroom.

“Pace, where are all the guys?”

“You mean my adoring fans?”

“No. Normally in clubs, there are equal amounts of sexes. Here all I see are girls. What’s with that?”

“Are you serious?” Pacey shook his head. “Honey, you’ve been hanging out with Dawson too much, his child like naivete has been rubbing off on you.”

A girl tapped Joey on the shoulder. “Hey, do you want to dance?”

“Can’t you see I’m busy here?” Joey said impatiently. She turned back to Pacey. “Jeez, that’s like the sixth girl who asked me to dance. Can’t they tell I don’t want to dance?”

“It must be your charm. It’s drawing them in.”

Dawson saw Jen on the dance floor. “Jen!” he called. She beckoned him over.

“So, Dawson, glad you made it.”

“You’re happy to see me?”

“Yeah. You’re not holding any drinks this time.”

Before the conversation could precede any further, the music stopped playing. “Hi,” the lead singer said to the audience. “Are you having fun tonight?”

“Yeah!”

“Tonight, there is a very special guest in the audience. She used to be a guitarist in our band, but she left to write books. Maybe you heard of her stuff, ‘ET Was Really a Girl: The Exploration of Lesbianism in Spielberg Films.” The audience cheered. “Good, you have heard of it. Well, she used to sing all these Madonna songs. And I was thinking, if we can get her up here, maybe she can treat us to some of her vocal stylings. What do you say, Jen?” Jen shook her head. “C’mon up here and sing, girl.” Dawson pushed Jen up on the stage.

Jen murmured something to the band about a song. Then as the music began, she sang,

"I can’t get you out of my dreams

I tell you I’ll do anything

Just to have you here with me

I know that I’m in way too deep

I will give up everything

Just to have you here with me

There’s a fire in my head

Making me sweat

Keeps me coming back for more

Well, it’s crazy in here

Cause I want these tears

But it’s justified, it’s justified, it’s justified.

I swore you never make me feel this way

But I can’t stop this runaway train.”

The song continued, but Dawson didn’t hear it. He just let the words flow about him. Her sweet voice making him rock back and forth (like dancing, but not quite). He knew she was singing to him. During the midst of all this, Joey crept up behind Dawson and began to mimic him. Right down to the ‘dance moves’. Suddenly Dawson turned around.

“Knock it off.” He said and hit her.

Just then Jen finished her song. The crowd began to cheer, Dawson clapping the loudest. Jen ran down the stage in Dawson’s direction. Her arms were extended, as if she meant to hug him. Dawson opened his arms as well. Just as they were about to embrace, Jen grabbed the girl in front of him. The two began to kiss passionately as Dawson looked on, stunned.

Joey was stunned too. Then she looked around the club. Chicks were kissing other chicks. Chicks were dancing with other chicks. There was a pattern developing. Suddenly it dawned upon her. She started laughing hysterically.

(Later that night)

Dawson and Joey were sitting at a booth drinking. Jen brought her friend over. “Guys, I’d like you to meet Christy.”

Joey leaned over to Dawson, “Oh my god. We know that girl.”

“We do?”

“You know, Christy-the-airhead-cheerleader. The one Pacey fawned over during his 'I’m a hetero' phase.”

“Oh yeah. Christy Livingstone. Nice to meet you Christy.”

However Christy was too engrossed in Jen, as Jen in her, to answer. Dawson got pissed off and left.

(The Next Day)

There was a knock on the door. Dawson answered it.

It was Jen. “Hey, Dawson,” she said breathlessly. “I just got an idea for a new book. It’s called, ‘ET didn’t phone home when he took off after he found out his friend was gay’. What do you think?”

“Sounds like I can contribute to this book.”

“Good. Because I wanted to talk to you. You know, get a first hand account about what happened last night at the bar.”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Dawson invited.

“Okay.” Jen sat across from him on the couch. “I freaked you out last night, didn’t I?”

“Well, I haven’t seen Christy in so long and all-”

“Cut the bull, Dawson. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He shrugged. “Only if you want.”

“I like you, Dawson. I haven’t liked a guy in a long time, and it’s not because I’m a man hater. I just haven’t met a man who doesn’t think of me as a sex object for his enjoyment.”

“So, you haven’t been with a man?”

“Never. Have you?”

“No, of course not.”

“You’re not the least bit curious? You have been friends with Pacey for a long time, right?”

“I’m curious about what motivates Pacey to get such a stupid looking Caesar haircut- not what he’s like in bed.”

She sighed. “So are we friends?”

“Of course! Until I can sway you from lesbianism, that is. Then you’ll be my love slave.” Jen stared at him. “Oops, did I say that out loud?”

“Smart ass.” Jen slapped him.

(Two Days Later)

“Another convention, Dawson?” Joey asked.

“Yeah. But it’s only for two days. So why do you have such a big bag?” He said, gesturing to her large duffel bag.

Joey opened the bag, to reveal many ‘toys’, “Oh, this is for the nights.”

Dawson closed the bag hurriedly, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You just can’t go around showing your things at an airport.”

“Jesus Christ, Dawson. This is the 90’s. What’s your problem? I bet half the people here are carrying the same things.”

“I’d love to continue arguing with you but I’ve got to get to a payphone. See one anywhere?”

“Yeah, right over there.”

Dawson looked down at his pager and punched in the 7 digits. “Hello? Jen?”

“Hey Dawson. So I was thinking about coming on down to LA this weekend. Will you come and pick me up at the train station?”

“This weekend? Damn, I’ve got a convention.”

“You do? But I planned business this weekend down in LA just so I could spend the rest of the time with you.”

“Really? Well, the convention’s not really that big of a deal. I’m sure Joey can handle it on her own. So what time does your train come in?”

“10 a.m.”

“See you then.” Dawson said before hanging up. As he walked back to Joey, he found her entertaining a small child with the contents in her bag.

“Then women decide that men really don’t satisfy them enough. So women decided to invent this little toy. Now while it may seem little to you and me, trust me it’s large compared to other things,” Joey said to the little girl. Dawson came up behind her and whacked her lightly on the head.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m merely informing a little girl about the world,” Joey said nonchalantly.

“More like perverting her. Anyway, I need you to do the convention solo.”

“Solo?”

“Yeah, I’ve got something to do this weekend.”

“What? Sort your socks?”

“No. I did that last weekend.”

“Don’t tell me you’re ditching me for that Jen girl.”

“As a matter of fact…”

“Dammit, Dawson. You always pull this shit on me.”

“So I do. What are you going to do about it? Stand up for yourself, develop some backbone? Tell me off? Give me an ultimatum?” She didn’t answer. “Well?”

“I’m-I’m going to pout and scowl and grimace. Next time I see Jen, I’m going to be a bitch to her. Even though she’s not the cause of my anger. But I can’t take out my anger on you, the right target, because I’m half in love with you. So I’m going after her, because it’s easy.” Joey stopped talking. “Oops, did I say that out loud?”

Dawson turned back to her. “I’m sorry, were you saying something?”