GobSmacked82

Good morning, shippers. Well, it's been 20 years since our girl and our hero met to make that fantastic blockbuster movie. I've put together a convo, which could turn out the be Part I, on what these two might have talked about as KC prepared to debut his latest project. Enjoy. Let me know if you think it needs a second part, although I can probably guess at that.

Somewhere in W's rented apartment or hotel room, a phone rings.

WH: (Sounding sleepy) Hello???
KC: Good morning, prom date. How are you? Did you get the—
WH: (CLICK!)

A few minutes later, W's phone rings again.

WH: What?? It is 6 aaayyy emmm, Kevin. I'm not ready for this.
KC: Whitney come on. Don't be that way. When are we supposed to talk? You're the busiest person I know, from the morning, well late morning, all the way through the after parties. You could at least carve out time to speak to me in the mornings.
WH: (sighs) Oh, Kevin. When you give me the hound dog eyes, I suppose. But you are, technically, in violation.
KC: Violation? Not possible, not today. I’m not going in the dog house today, and I don’t care what you say. It’s a beautiful day. The Hatfields & McCoys opens, and I get to see you be a knockout on the red carpet.
WH: You said we could dress casually. Who’s a knockout dressed casually, except supermodels? Anyway, you’re just trying to get a little sumthin’, un-huh, what-what.
KC: Nothing new about that. Anyway, that's beside the point. It’s our anniversary. We’ve known each other for 20 years. It’s time we ramped up this relationship, like me calling you in the mornings, for instance. After 20 years can I at least do that?
WH: Don’t push your luck.
KC: (Groans) Alright, I suppose. But you’re going to thank me in a few minutes.
WH: Why?
KC: I arranged a special delivery coming your way in about 5 minutes.
In 10 minutes, WH is opening a package of warm buttermilk pancakes.
WH: They smell good, at least. Only food, Kevin. Only food would haul me out of bed at this early hour. Otherwise, I would quit you, and I would really, really mean it. Remember that. (She samples a pancake.) Ohhh, Kevin. It’s perfect. Mmmm, oh my Lord.
KC: If you keep that up—
WH: Keep what up?
KC: Those noises. Are we talking about pancakes or starting a family?
WH: Listen here. These pancakes are heaven on earth, but don’t get it wrong. You are not home free just yet.

KC: But are we friends again?
WH: Of course! Baby, I'm ride or die, and you know that! Even if I have to put you on time out.
KC: And the other gift from yesterday. Did you open it?
WH: Oh yes I did. I love Lladro. How did you know?
JC: Twentieth anniversaries call for pottery. Or China. I forget. Something that breaks.
WH: But we are not married, K.
KC: That’s your own fault. But let’s not nitpick and point fingers. Let’s look to the future, Whitney. Now on the red carpet later—
WH: Before you tell me what’s going on, let me give you some ground rules. I know you like to go your own way, but I need you to put on your listening ears for the next few minutes.
KC: Of course I will.
WH: Please behave yourself. Arms on my shoulder, like a regular old friend. Not on my waist like you’re somebody’s date. And speaking of dates, be nice to mine.
KC: Well, Krissy is coming isn’t she?
WH: No. She has an audition. Baby girl is starting on her own path in life pretty soon. It’s going to be Ray J.
KC: Ugh.
WH: What’s your problem? Don’t be like that. You know the deal between Ray J and me. He’s an old family friend. The Norwoods and I go back for years. Lovely people.
KC: Whatever.
WH: You just be on your best behavior. Hands in the friend pose, hold just long enough to finish the pictures. Got it?
KC: You can count on me, Whit. What are you going to do next?
WH: I’m getting back into bed until I’m really ready to get up. Smooches. I’ll see you later.
Much later, after the red carpet and screening. Whitney’s phone rings.
WH: Hello. How do you like it in the dog house?
KC: Now Whitney, I think you’re being unfair. Why do we have to start so many conversations with you lecturing me and punishing me?
WH: Because you have to end up so many nights being fresh and out of line and misbehaving. If we were both single, I might think that was all OK. But you need to watch what you say and what you do and WHERE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS, Kevin!

KC: Oh come on Whitney! You were the most beautiful, sexy, statuesque, luminous, glowing, radiant thing there!
WH: Says the married man. Unbelievable, Kevin.
KC: I didn’t do anything wrong, Whitney. You’re paranoid.
WH: Your hands were on my @ss. The entire time. The flash bulbs would not stop. Oh Lord, it’s the Ali picture all over again. I don’t even want to think what these TV shows and magazines and them stupid blogs are going to say. I could kill you!
KC: My hands were not that low. Just settle down.
WH: And you pushed Ray J out of the way to get a picture.
KC: I did not.
WH: Then how did he go stumbling into the ropes?
KC: It’s not my fault if Lil’ Man doesn’t know not to chase his Similac formula with Petrone and can’t keep his balance.
WH: Nobody was drinking. And that’s a shame, too, because you’re going to have to come up with an explanation for your behavior at some point. People are on to us, I can feel it!
KC: They are not onto us.
WH; When ------ magazine asked you about your CURRENT film, why did you somehow find your way to talk about how it should be obvious to anyone why I was in The Bodyguard? What does that have to do with anything?
KC: He asked me about The Bodyguard, and that’s what I answered.
WH: He asked you about the Hatfields. Twice. And you kept coming back to The Bodyguard. And grinning and scratching your ear. He eventually asked you about it. Kevin, ain’t nobody checking for that movie.
KC: You were watching me the whole time, weren’t you? I’m surprised you didn’t chime in. It’s starting to look a little weird, don’t you think? After 20 years I’m the one who keeps talking about us and our connection on that film. And you just stand there looking perfect with nothing to say.
WH: I will hang up this phone and quit you for good if you don’t stop.
Silence for a few minutes.
KC: Well, what did you think of the movie?
WH: I’m not telling. You don’t deserve it.
KC: Whitney, spill it.
WH: Well, even though I generally like clean-cut guys, that beard was kinda cool.
KC: Oh yeah? You know I had to sit still for an hour while they glued that thing on me every day for shooting. Grueling work, acting.
WH: It works, baby. It works. And who knew you liked to play rough and tough guys so well. That Devil Anse Hatfield was a trip! First there was Frank Farmer. Hey! Why is it that your characters are always whipping somebody’s @ss in the kitchen? It is something to think about, you know? Even if they do get the job done, honey!
KC: Well, yeah. He had to be tough and decisive and industrious. Back then, you didn’t have fancy lawyers and slick publicists to arbitrate your problems for you. You had to be firm and make decisions.
WH: Sounds like this Hatfield was born to run things, though. Taking people’s land. Slapping people around. My, my, my Kevin. You know how to play a thug. Who knew Kevin had a little thug in him? I kinda like it.
KC: (Voice relaxes a bit. Laughs.) Oh, but don’t get it wrong, Whitney. This thug has heart, too. Heart and soul.
WH: What you tellin’ me?
KC: How else did he keep his wife with him all those years? You just have to understand the guy. And if you like all that, I can show you a thug with a little soul in him.
WH: Well, alright now. What you wearin’ baby?