Season 11/1: The One with the Jinx
by R. John Burke

DISCLAIMER: Friends and all characters belong to Warner Brothers and Bright/Kauffman/Crane productions. This is non-profit fan fiction; no money is involved and no infringement is intended.

ACT ONE

Three Years After “The Last One”...

“Okay, here goes... now remember, this is a very technical operation, so if I get confused, you might have to just talk me through it. Ready?”

Chandler Bing waited until he got a serious, wide-eyed nod from his son Jack. Then he loaded up a spoonful of oatmeal. “Zzzzrrroooooooooooommmmm... here comes the airplane.. zzrrroooom... open up the hangar... Flight 31 from Chicago-O'Hare, coming in for a...”

At the last instant, Jack turned his head aside and a spoonful of oatmeal landed on the preternaturally clean kitchen floor. He giggled and clapped his hands-- adopted or not, the boy had inherited his father's comic timing. Not to mention his appreciation for his own jokes.

“Sure, -you- can laugh. Between this and the sippy cup incident, I can kiss my pilot's license goodbye.”

“Meanwhile, I don't hear you cleaning that up,” said Monica Geller, his wife, who stood with her back to them while she did the dishes.

Chandler groaned as he dropped to his hands and knees. “This never would have happened if I'd listened to the Quaker on the box and gone with the horse and buggy. Damn my love of engine noises!”

“Okay, sweetie... seriously... I need to hear scrubbing.”

“Yes, dear.” Chandler reached for a hand towel and ran it over the spot. Then he started to laugh.

“What's funny?”

“Oh... I was just remembering when I used to do this for Joey.”

Monica frowned as she put away the last plate. “You used to clean up oatmeal for Joey?”

“He went through a phase in the late 90's. Long story...”

She frowned, but decided not to ask. “Speaking of Joey, when's his flight getting in?”

Chandler glanced at his wrist. “Well, this watch stopped running during the kids' bath last night and the clock on the microwave has been blinking for five months, so that would make it a quarter past I-Have-Absolutely-No-Idea.”

“I'll check the clock in the living room,” said Monica; she moved in that direction while she stripped off her rubber gloves.

She almost ran into the door as Jack's sister Erica came toddling in from the other side, a sheet of paper clutched in her tiny hands. She shoved it toward Monica, who crouched beside her.

“Drew a picture, Mommy!”

“Ohhh... sweetie, that's wonderful! This is very good! This is--” Monica stopped cold. “This... looks like it's drawn in marker. But it can't be that, because nobody in this house is allowed to buy her markers.”

“Um..” said Chandler.

“And if he -did- buy her markers, I know they'd be the washable kind that comes right off. Chandler, tell me they'd be the washable kind that comes right off.”

“Funny story...”

“Drew it good, huh, Mommy?” said Erica. She pointed at the living room. “Drew another in there!”

“Awhh!” Monica whimpered. Glaring daggers at Chandler, she slowly found her feet. “I'll be right back.”

“I'll be waiting,” said Chandler. When she was through the door, he turned to his son. “I say we board the 9:30 oatmeal spoon to Argentina. If we're quick, she'll never find us.”

“AWHHH!” came the tortured sob from the living room.

“You should know, I've left you well-provided for,” he said to Jack.

The door swung open. Monica came through a step at a time, her face ashen. “The walls... on my walls... there was... it was...”

“Pretty, huh, Mommy?” said Erica.

“Awwwwhh...” her mother moaned.

Something chimed from the other room. Chandler jumped out of his chair.

“Doorbell! It's the doorbell! I'm gonna-- I'll-- there's a bell on the door! I'll be right back!”

Doing his best to ignore the 'I will totally kill you later' look in Monica's eyes, he lunged into the living room, ready to buy at least 37 of whatever the person at the front door was selling. Instead...

“Anybody up for some foosball?”

“Joey!”

Before Chandler could elaborate, the handsome Italian on the other side of the door pulled him into a bear hug. Chandler wouldn't have thought he could so miss the faint whiff of pastrami sandwich that always came with proximity to his old friend.

The hug lasted until he heard Monica behind him, clearing her throat.

“Joey!” he exclaimed again. “Look who it is! We like Joey! We love Joey. We would never kill in the presence of Joey... would we?”

“No, but he has to sleep sometime.” But Monica couldn't stay angry, and she hugged Joey too. It lasted almost as long as the hug with Chandler. Not -quite- as long, but almost. When she drew back, she said, “Let me take a wild guess: You're hungry?”

“Aww! It's like I'm home!” said Joey, and they all marched back into the kitchen. He beamed when he saw the twins: “Aw, man, they got so big! C'mere and give your Uncle Joey a hug!” While the kids did so, he continued: “Oof! Wow, I gotta hand it to you guys. They look great. I bet this guy here's gonna be a football player... and Erica, she's so cute!”

Chandler cleared his throat. “Joey, could you do me a favor and not talk to my daughter for the next forty years?”

“Aww, you guys!” Joey hugged the kids again, then stood and sniffed audibly. “Man, have I missed Monica's cooking. What's that I smell?”

“Breakfast,” she said.

“My favorite! No, wait, dinner's my-- no, it's breakfast. Wait-- lunch! Aww, but man-- breakfast”
As they sat down at the table, Chandler said, “I know that's a toughie, Joe. Say, here's an idea-- why don't you stay for a while and try all three?”

“Well, y'know, if you insist,” said Joey, and he allowed Monica to fill his plate with a huge helping of ham and eggs.

“So how was Hollywood?” Monica asked as she sat down with Erica on her knee.

“Not so good. My show got canceled. Then a couple of movies bombed. Then my other show got canceled. Then I went to Disneyland and got really sick on the Teacups. Oh, but hey-- my sister and nephew said to say hi.”

“Hi, Joey's sister,” said Chandler. “Which one lives in California, again?”

“Oh... Gina.”

“Mmm-hmm, and Gina is...?”

Joey jabbed a finger at him. “Dude, you better know the difference by now!”

“What? No, of course I-- c'mon, I'm just yanking your chain!” Chandler met Monica's eyes across the table and shrugged as if to say: Not a clue.

She said to Joey: “You know, if things aren't working out in California, you could always come back to New York.”

Joey brightened. “Oh, hey, I know, believe me-- I been thinkin' about it. That's why I'm so psyched for my audition tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “My agent got me an audition for a Broadway play. It's a really big deal, you know? Big budget, the works. It's supposed to be an adaptation of 'David Copperfield.'”

“Well, that sounds pretty good,” said Chandler.

Joey grinned. “Yeah, I know! Wouldn't it be perfect? I could stay here with you guys and be on Broadway! Plus, I think I'd make a really good David Copperfield. I -love- magic! And I could totally see myself making the Statue of Liberty disappear.”

“Uh, call me crazy, but I think it's more likely to be 'David Copperfield' by Dickens.”

“Dude, I don't care who wrote the play! I just want to star in it!”

Chandler blinked. He'd forgotten about that shooting pain behind his left eye, too. “No, Joe... I think...”

“Forget it,” said Monica.

“But...”

“Look, we don't have two hours.”

“Yeah, okay.” Chandler sighed. “So it sounds like that whole California thing was really disappointing. I'm sorry, man.”

Joey shrugged. “It's okay. I mean, I had a lot of fun. For one thing, everything you hear about the women in California? Totally true. I mean, they're -beautiful-. On the other hand, the pizza and the sandwiches suck compared to New York. I feel like I'm facing this defining moment in my life, you know? It's like, which do I love more? Food... or women? It's a conundrum.”

Chandler stared at him. “How long did you practice that word?”

“The whole cab ride,” Joey said, sheepish.

Chandler nodded along with him. “Well, Joe, I'd like to help you choose, you know, between the great food and the beautiful women, but with Monica, I have both.”

He squeezed his wife's hand. She made a face at him. “Yeah, I still haven't forgotten about the markers.”

“...did I mention she's smart too?”

It was worth a shot, but judging by the look on Monica's face, it didn't do him much good. She got up from the table and put the gloves back on. Chandler had learned that the gloves were never a good sign.

Meanwhile, Joey was saying: “...but enough about me; you guys look great, how's everybody else? How's Ross and Rachel?”

“They're doing... fine,” said Monica carefully. “Actually, while you're here, you might get to see Ross propose.”

“Yes,” said Chandler. “What -are- the chances you'll stay through the year 2055?”

Monica tried to hit him. He dodged. Joey looked confused, which was pretty normal for Joey. He said: “Wait... you mean those two aren't married yet?”

Chandler stared for a moment. “I'm curious. At what point do you remember attending their wedding?”

Joey shrugged. “I dunno, they've gone back and forth so much over the years, I get confused. Plus, I did a -lot- of partying out in California, you know what I mean?”

Chandler did know what he meant, so they both grinned-- until Monica came around for another pass and smacked him upside the head.

“Ow!” he said. “What did I do to deserve--”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Do NOT get me started. She drew a FULL-SIZED MURAL”
Chandler winced. “Yeah, okay...”

“Anyway,” said Monica, “no, they're not married yet. Ross has been pretty frustrated. He says that everything's been so weird over the years, he wants the moment when he finally proposes to be absolutely perfect. But you know Ross... always worried about something.”

“Wow...” said Joey.

“I know, it's shocking,” said Chandler. “Who ever thought any of the Gellers would turn out to be a control freak?”

He cringed as soon as he said it, but this time Monica only glared. Meanwhile, Erica piped up:

“Daddy, what's control freak?”

“It's a-- well, you know, we don't have to go into that right now.” Clearing his throat, Chandler hopped up from the table and ushered his son and daughter into the living room, whispering as they went: “Just look in the dictionary; it'll be right beside Mommy's picture.”

“I HEARD that!”

“She's just so pretty and smart,” he said to Joey. Monica glared at him as she followed after the twins.

“So anyway,” Chandler continued, “about Ross and Rachel, we're really starting to worry about them. Ross has tried to propose like six times; he never gets all the way through it. We thought it'd get better when Phoebe took the curse off, but...”

Joey looked blank. “The curse?”

“Oh, that's right, you missed that. Okay, long story short, Phoebe thinks her aura may have been thrown out of whack by Y2K and that's how she accidentally cursed us.”

“I've been cursed?! Whoa-- that makes total sense! No -wonder- my shows keep getting canceled!”

Chandler held eye contact for about ten seconds, then said, “Yes, Joe, that's the reason.”

Just then, Monica came back through the doors, grumbling: “You HAD to get them ALL the markers? You couldn't have taken out the PURPLE one first? It TOTALLY clashes...”

Before her husband could respond, the phone rang and Monica picked up:

“HELLO! I mean, hello. Oh, hey, Pheebs. What's the-- where's Joey? What do you mean, where's... hold on.” Monica looked up and covered the receiver. “Um... Joey, did you happen to ask Phoebe to pick you up at the airport?”

“Yeah! I mean, she offered. She's got her cab, and I thought that'd be great, and then I got an earlier flight, and I thought, man, that's even better. We'll totally surprise them!”

“We, Joe?” said Chandler, gesturing around the room.

“Yeah, because you know... I didn't think you'd expect us this early.”

“'Us?'” said Monica.

“Yeah! You know, I thought you'd be--Ohhhh.” Joey's eyes went wide. Chandler winced and nodded-- he'd also missed the 'Joey Take.' The actor craned his neck toward Monica and called: “Sorry, Pheebs!”

Monica uncovered the receiver and listened for a moment, then nodded to Joey. “Yeah, you're cursed again.”

“Aww!”

“Okay...” said Monica. “Okay... yeah, I'll tell him. Okay. See you tonight. 'Bye.”

“Well?” said Joey.

“Well, she said she and Mike will meet us for dinner tonight like we planned. She said she's really looking forward to seeing you. And oh... something about your children's children.”

“Aww!” said Joey again.

Chandler stared at him. “Dude, how could you forget Phoebe?”

“LOT of partying, man.”

“Okay. You know what? Let's show you to your room, and then as your penance, you can help me scrub a mural off the walls.”

“Wait, wait!” said Monica. “As much as I want the wall scrubbed... and BELIEVE me, I do... first I want to see you do it just one time.”

Joey said: “Do you really think...”

“C'mon, yeah, do it. Do your Joey thing. I've really missed it.”

“Well... okay.” Joey looked her up and down, smiled his most dashing smiled, and said, “How -you- doin'?”

Monica giggled. Chandler frowned at her. “Did you just ask another guy to flirt with you in front of me?”

“My walls are PURPLE!” she said, and hurried back into the living room.

“...yeah, okay,” Chandler muttered, turning to follow her.

“Whoa, hold on!” said Joey. “Now -you- gotta do it one time. C'mon. Do your thing.”

“Uh, sure.” He sighed, then in a familiar tone of voice: “Could we -be- anymore glad to see you?”

“No, man!” said Joey. “I mean, that was good, but... the -other- thing!”

“Joey, I don't...”

“Please! For old time's sake?”

“Oh... okay.” Chandler sighed, picked up a spoonful of oatmeal, and said: “Zrrrrooooooommmm... here comes the airplane...”

CONTINUED IN ACT TWO