Fritz Who?

Tiffany Schuyler was more than a little disgusted with her life lately.  For starters, her boyfriend Rex was such a disappointment. Make that a major disappointment. When she met him he had shared his dream of having his own rock band with him as lead singer, complete with tight leather pants and gruesome tattoos. It hadn't take a very large stretch of Tiffany's somewhat limited imagination to envision an exciting life as the future wife of a rock star. A life filled with plenty of rides in limousines, wild parties after concerts and possibly even a reality show like Tori Spelling's--only Tiffany and Rex wouldn't let the cameras film their fights. Just the wonderful times so that everyone Tiffany had ever gone to school with would be insanely jealousy and regret having ever made fun of her or not picking her to be on their softball team.


But Rex wasn't a rock star. He wasn't any kind of star. The jerk didn't even have a regular job. All he seemed to want to do was sit around their apartment, drink beer, fart and watch The Price is Right--not exactly the dream boyfriend Tiffany longed for.


Then there was her father. Her real father, Tom Hartman, whom she hadn't even known existed until a little while ago. If she had to have a long lost father pop up, why couldn't it be someone with tons of money and a limited interest in parenting. Tom wanted to bond all the time and was constantly asking Tiffany to go on walks with him and take her out for ice cream. She wasn't a three year old! Why didn't he get that? Tiffany didn't want to bond with Tom. She wanted a father who would pay for her wedding, tell her she was beautiful and leave her alone. Was that so much to ask for?


Finally, and worst of all, there was her weight loss. Or her former weight loss. After losing all that weight on Fat Off, Tiffany had gained most of it back. Nothing depressed her more than not being able to fit into the cute clothes she bought when she was skinny. If she could just get her hands on one more can of Fat Off--but how?


"Tiffany? You home?" Rex banged into the apartment, instantly setting Tiffany's fragile nerves on edge. Tiffany was in the bedroom lying down. Maybe she could pretend to be asleep. That way she wouldn't get dragged into another stupid argument with Rex over whose turn it was to go out for carryout. That was another disappointing thing about Rex--he could eat Burger King every single night. What was wrong with Hardee's once in a while or Taco Bell?


"Tiffany?" Tiffany shut her eyes as the bedroom door opened. After a second, Rex left. She heard him flop on the sofa and turn the television set on. Heaven forbid that he should be thoughtful about keeping the house quiet while she was napping. A moment or two later she heard another sound. Rex was talking on his cell phone. She frowned. Who could he be talking to? Although Tiffany wasn't exactly totally in love with Rex, she still didn't want him cheating on her.


Tiffany crept to the door and opened it a crack.


"Yeah, I know," she heard Rex say. "You told me that. I know all that crap. Would you let it drop? I told you that I'd take care of it!" He sounded annoyed and Tiffany instantly felt better. If he was cheating on her, he'd sound a lot nicer to his girlfriend--for awhile at least.


"Look, no one is ever going to be able to trace any of that back to either of us! I told you that I took care of everything."


Tiffany's stomach grumbled. She'd give anything for a Snickers bar. Maybe in a few minutes she'd pretend to wake up and they could go to the store or to Burger King for dinner since she was feeling a little more charitable toward Rex since he wasn't cheating on her.


"In a few months no one is even going to remember Fritz," Rex said. "So forget about it. I have." He ended his call and Tiffany went back to the bed to lie down. That was strange. Fritz who? Her blood suddenly ran cold. Fritz--wasn't that the name of the creepy scientist who got killed?


Why would Rex be talking about him?