OUTRAGEOUS EPISODE EIGHT: WEIGHT LOSS
Anna gets skinny enough to feel successful again. Trimspa, baby.
Can you admit you don’t know what it fucking feels like to be me?
2003
In her kitchen, Anna struggles to open a bottle of her Trimspa diet pills.
“A week into this weight loss journey and I still can’t see shit,” she says.
Alexander, muscles gripping tight to his chef uniform, prepares her a single egg white and half a grapefruit. He looks like a blonder, hotter Arnold Schwarzenegger – built, lean and tan.
Still struggling with the cap, Anna whines until Alexander does it for her.
“I’m so weak,” she moans. “I can’t even open my pills.”
“You’re not weak,” he coos in his Austrian accent. “These ones are just really childproof.”
He unscrews the cap for her. She picks the cotton out of it and pretends she’s going to eat it.
“That’s how hungry I am,” she says.
“You’re not hungry, you’re bored,” he says.
He grabs her tight and they kiss like porn stars.
“Wait,” Anna says. She shakes out six Trimspa pills and swallows them with the juice. Then she presses her body back against his.
“No, no, no,” he stops her. “Not until after training.”
He takes off his chef top and reveals his Under Armor underneath. They head to the backyard.
“Let’s go! Tap your shoulder, tap your knees. Warm it up Anna,” Alexander barks.
She reaches her hands out and brings her knees to tap them one at a time.
“But I’m tired,” Anna complains.My boobs hurt.”
“You are lucky to be able to use your body this way,” Alexander reminds her. “You are stronger than you think.”
“I’m not,” Anna says. “I don’t have a core.”
Alexander draws close to her and whispers in her ear erotically.
“Are you going to be a good girl for daddy or a spoiled little brat?” he asks her.
“I’m going to be a good girl,” Anna tells him. “I’m a very good girl. I’m on my program. I’m inviting newness into my life. I’m inviting newness into my life. ”
He barks commands to keep her moving.
Later to rise, Kimmy and Daniel meet over bowls of cereal in the kitchen island. They sit at the kitchen island and watch Anna workout through the window.
“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Kimmy says.
“I’ll drive myself today,” Daniel says. “I told you, I don’t need you to drive me anymore.”
“C’mon Daniel, you only have your permit,” Kimmy worries.
Daniel glances out as his mom does a labored bicep curl.
“Later,” he says on his way out the door.
“Don’t slam it!” Kimmy yells.
It slams.
As Kimmy finishes her cereal, she fixates on Anna and Alexander. The attention. The affection. A tear falls into her bowl of cereal-dyed milk. Splat.
Outside, sweat pours off of Anna.
“I want to be done,” Anna moans. “I’m done. It’s too hot.”
“15 crunches to finish or no...,” Alexander threatens.
Anna lowers onto the warm grass and curls her body up.
“Tighten those obliques,” Alexander coaches.
“I told you I don’t have none of that,” Anna pouts.
“Count it down,” he tells her.
“5-4-3-2-1,” she heaves as she finishes.
“Stay there,” Alexander commands.
Alexander kneels by her feet and lifts her legs in the air. He licks her sweaty belly and thighs until he reaches her pussy and licks that too. She moans louder than ever.
OUTRAGEOUS
Anna wears an oversized sweatsuit and lays on top of her big pink bed. The ceiling fan blows so strong it rocks, off-balance. The lights are off and the curtains are closed. The TV blares an episode of the ABC soap opera “General Hospital.” Some drama with Port Charles’ resident crime lord crime Sonny Corinthos is going down. Again. Anna watches intently.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Anna says to the TV as Jason, Sonny’s henchman and the Brad Pitt of the show, fills the frame.
Outside, the September day radiates with the light and warmth of LA’s endless summer vibe. People are out walking, biking and lunching on patios.
Anna’s house feels nothing like this. Pharmacy bags and mail in hand, Howard uses his key to get inside. He’s met with nothing but darkness. Lights off, curtains drawn. He marches toward Anna’s room and finds her in the dark.
“I’m gonna get a migraine in this house, turn a light on,” Howard tells her.
“You told me to lay low,” Anna replies.
“You can’t leave the house, you don’t have to live in the dark,” he says.
“Same thing,” she says.
“Wasn’t this on when I left?” Howard asks. “That was almost three hours ago.”
“That was All My Children, this is General Hospital,” Anna explains. “All My Children is Pine Valley, Port Charles is General Hospital. One Life to Live is Llanview, but characters from Port Charles end up there. That comes on in between.”
“Don’t you think you should do something during the day?” Howard asks.
Anna rises, angry.
“I’m working full-fucking-time to make you and everyone else happy ok?” Anna asks. “Aren’t I on my program? Aren’t I being good? Losing weight? Stayin’ home?”
“I know Anna--” Howard starts.
“No, you don’t fucking know Howard. You don’t know, ok? Can you tell me? Can you tell me you don’t know what it fucking feels like to be me?,” Anna chides.
“I don’t know what it’s like to be you,” Howard admits to her in a heartfelt but cloying tone.
Once she nods, he drops that attitude and gets back to business.
“Have you thought about the press rollout?” Howard asks her.
“Can you just let me lose the weight first?” Anna asks. “Who knows if it’s even gonna work.”
“I think those pills are really doing something,” Howard tells her.
Anna parodies herself as a powerful preacher.
“I told God, please, please merciful God, oh compassionate Lord, please make me less fat, please take this fat away! I beseech you, oh Lord!” Anna preaches. “Make me skinny so people love me again. Amen.”
“I know you’re bored at home, but when the world sees you skinny again, like you want,” Howard says. “You’re going to be really happy.”
She grabs one of her pillows and hits him.
“Can we not talk about my body for one goddamn minute?” Anna asks. “What’s going on with my federal fucking court case? Sometimes I wish we could all just drop it. But I’m not giving up if they’re not.”
“Well, we can’t,” Howard says. “And we shouldn’t, given the mortgage and Daniel’s college fund and your overall lifestyle preferences.”
“I’m like Dolly,” Anna says. “It takes a lot of money to look this cheap.”
“Didn’t you throw up on her at the Oscars?” Howard asks.
“Shut the fuck up Howard,” Anna says. She turns her attention back to the TV and ignores Howard until he leaves the room.
Once he’s gone, she lifts her shirt and traces each curve, corner and stretch mark. She picks up a pair of scissors from the desk and traces her stomach with the pointy tip, then her thighs. She squeezes her flesh tightly, hard enough to leave bruises. She brushes herself with the scissors like she wants to cut her fat off.